fleeting

Ever since she was a kid she loved it. The sky was enormous and at nighttime the stars would light it up like nightlights. For Carol, connecting the stars to form the constellations was her favorite form of puzzle. As a result, more often than not, instead of watching the courtyard, her gaze was pulled upward, in a way that it appeared as if she was defying gravity.

It was for that reason that on one spring night, her shifts from then on would be changed forever. Carol had been yearning at the sky as usual, which was why she didn’t hear the pitter-patter of slippers against the stone approaching her. She didn’t even realize that she had been joined by someone until their lavender fragrance wafted into her nose.

One blink and she was on alert, immediately unsheathing her sword, standing back, and pressing the tip of it to who was sure to be her attacker’s neck. Only when the person let out a mangled yelp did Carol realize who this was, and her eyes widened before she hastily pulled her sword far, far away.

“Your highness!”

Composing herself, the Princess straightened her posture, forcing out a dignified laugh. “Knight,” she greeted, curtseying.

“Please accept my deepest apologies, Your Highness. I mistook you for an attacker,” Carol explained, bowing her head.

Shaking her head, the Princess retained a polite smile. “It is fine. I’m glad that our Knights are on high alert. You are just doing your job,” she brushed aside, in such a leaderlike, future Queen-like, voice that it must’ve been drilled into her by her parents and teachers. “I just came by to look at the stars since I couldn’t sleep . . . Is that Orion?” She turned to the sky, pointing out a constellation.

Narrowing her eyes, Carol blinked, finding that the Princess was correct. Biting her tongue to stop herself from wording this poorly, she said, “Yes, it is. I didn’t know that Princesses were taught about the sky, Your Highness.”

Y/N chuckled, letting her true laugh ring, her true voice accompanying it. “I studied the stars in any free time I had when I was younger - and still do now,” she said.

This sparked the Knight’s interest. They launched into a conversation, discussing all the constellations they could see. It began that every night the Knight was on duty, the Princess would join her, murmuring about how she wasn’t able to sleep, even though they both knew that it wasn’t true. Still, the Knight didn’t stop her and the Princess didn’t allow herself to be stopped. After about the third or fourth visit or so, they began a contest of who could spot as many constellations as they could first. There was no prize and neither kept count, but it allowed them to talk for hours until the Knight’s shift was over or the Princess retreated to her quarters.

This went on for months, and neither had any intention of stopping. Their conversations grew into topics other than the sky, although they’d always come back to that, and they learned a lot about each other from it. At some point, the Princess started calling the Knight “Carol” and the Knight started calling the Princess “Y/N”. Although such informalities felt strange at first, with each other, they soon grew accustomed to and comfortable with it.

Then, one night, Y/N did not show. There was no way exactly for Carol to tell that she was late, for there was no clock outside, but as the breeze grew colder and the other guards grew tired, Carol could tell that there was something - someone - missing.

This set her off. She had never been so comfortable with someone than she was with the Princess. Anxiously, Carol craned her neck back to watch the entrance that Y/N came from. It was quiet. Abandoned. Give her a few more minutes, Carol told herself. She was a member of the Royal family. Perhaps she just got busy or fell asleep early.

That never happens, her conscience told her.

After a couple more agonizing minutes of rocking side-to-side slowly, the Knight decided she couldn’t just stand there when something could be wrong. Her duty was to take care of the Royal family, wasn’t it? She had to do that.

Hoping the other Knights were too tired or bored to notice, she crept over to Y/N’s usual entrance, which led to a winding, steep staircase. With her clanky boots, she made more noise than she would have liked to, but descended down it all the less. Leaving the little tower, she saw the palace’s library nearby.

From their talks she knew that Y/N would go there to study frequently, or use it as an oasis to get away from the chaos of being a royal - it wouldn’t hurt to check there.

Walking inside, Carol was adamant to make as little noise as possible. It would be a dishonor to disrupt Y/N’s quiet, safehaven. At first, she figured that no one could be there, with all the lights out. Then, something shining out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Turning, she had to squint to make out a small lamp.

Gravitating towards it like a bug would, Carol made out Y/N’s outline as she approached. Y/N had her back faced to her, one hand supporting her chin and the other resting on an open book. Rounding the table, Carol noticed that the book had a photo of the night sky on it, with stars dotting it. That brought a small smile to her face, until she looked up to see Y/N asleep. She must have just fallen asleep, as the arm supporting her wasn’t limp yet, but would be soon.

Wanting to prevent her face from smashing into the book, Carol quickly reached out and shook her shoulder. That little touch was enough to jostle her and quickly, Y/N reentered consciousness. Her eyes went wide as she first saw Carol and then when she saw the book. “I didn’t mean to - I need to study,” she said, pushing back her chair and almost throwing herself at the nearest shelf, scouring it.

Blinking in slight shock, Carol followed her. “Study for what?” She asked, watching her fumble through the books, a couple falling onto the floor.

When Y/N’s only response was a mutter about how mad her teacher was going to be, Carol decided to step in. Narrowly avoiding getting hit with a book as it flew off the shelf, she grabbed Y/N’s wrists, forcing her to take a pause.

“Whatever this is, it needs to stop. You need to rest,” Carol said, not bothering to stuff her concern behind her usual tough exterior.

Y/N shook her head, struggling against Carol’s tight grip. “No, no. I have a test. I need - to - study.”

After a brief back-and-forth, the two ended up mere inches away from each other. With her tiredness, Y/N’s attempts grew weaker, but she was still adamant. It only got through to her when she realized the effect this was having on Carol, her blonde hair getting disgruntled, frustration and worry in her eyes, her straining muscles. “I would not be doing my Knightly duty if I step aside while this continues, Y/N! You need to rest, and I will make it my job to make sure you do so,” she said.

As this set in, Y/N dropped her struggle. With that happening so suddenly, Carol just barely caught herself before she knocked into the shorter royal. Once she regained her balance and loosened her grip, Y/N stepped away, rubbing her face as she felt the exhaustion overpower her. Turning around, Y/N slumped in a chair.

“I might just sleep here,” she said, leaning against the back of the chair.

Letting out a small scoff, Carol knelt in front of Y/N. “Can I help you back to your room, Princess?” She offered, smirking.

Y/N cracked one eye open and then turned away. “I’m good here,” she replied in a sing-song voice.

Rolling her eyes, Carol stood up. “I can carry you?” She offered next, shrugging. “Belova is guarding your quarters tonight. She won’t care.”

When Y/N didn’t respond, just shifted in the chair uncomfortably, Carol took the decision upon herself. She bent down and scooped the Princess up in her arms, eliciting a small squak of surprise from her. Carol just chuckled, heading out the door. “Adorable,” she teased, making sure Y/N was secure.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Y/N grumbled, resting her head against Carol’s shoulder.

Feeling butterflies from the touch, the Knight nonetheless carried her to her quarters. Passing Yelena, the guard smirked at the scene, but didn’t say anything. When they got inside Y/N’s room, Carol laid her on her bed and helped her pull the covers over herself. Carol turned to leave, but Y/N caught her wrist.

“No goodnight kiss?” Y/N pouted. Then, she added, “Only if you want, of course.”

Turning back to her, Carol was grateful that the darkness only allowed them to make out the outlines of each other, so Y/N didn’t see her blush. She barely contained her gasp as it was. Leaning down, Carol’s lips met Y/N’s. They engaged in a nice, sweet kiss before they pulled back. “For you, Princess? I’d give you the stars,” she admitted quietly.

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The room was dark, his attention clearly elsewhere, but you waited for him to groan and throw his head back, waited until you could force yourself to lean downward, to slot your chest against his. You moved as slowly as you could, touched him as gently as humanly possible – letting your lips ghost over the edge of his jaw, raking your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keen and whimper and arch against you, to forget about anything that wasn’t you and your touch.

You knew what he liked, by now, been locked in his penthouse long enough to learn, and you knew how to keep him distracted, how to keep his attention where you needed it to be. He used to guide your hands, used to mutter instructions under his breath as you screamed and cried and struggled against him, but you hadn’t disobeyed him in weeks, months, hadn’t shown any signs of resistance beyond a soft glare and a habit of biting at his fingertips whenever they strayed too close to your bared teeth. Nothing he couldn’t overlook, if it suited him. Nothing he couldn’t brush off as imperfections he hadn’t yet smoothed over.

Before you could think better of it, you kissed him, roughly and harshly enough to bruise. He was stunned, for a moment, but he melted into the gesture soon enough, his tongue pressing into yours with an equal amount of desperation. His teeth tore into your lips, drawing blood, but the pain was numb, hollow. You tried not to let it distract you, either way.

It was one long, fluid movement. Your hand slipped under the pillow closest to him, taking hold of something cold and metallic, then you jerked back, raised your arms as high as you could think to, and brought the blade down, aiming for his chest.

You felt a hand wrap around your forearm, stopping you mid-swing. You blinked, and suddenly, you were on your back, his cock still inside of you and his stare prying into your chest, your flesh. He squeezed your wrist, digging his nails into your skin, and you let go automatically, knowing better than to try to fight him so directly. The knife was discarded easily, thrown off of the bed with little more than a flick of his wrist and a shallow sigh.

“Don’t.” Brash, blunt, border-line cruel. He didn’t raise his voice, but he never did. He liked to act as if, despite everything, you still weren’t worth the effort it would take for him to yell. “You’ll only get yourself hurt. I’m not going to spend the rest of our night washing your blood out of my sheets.”

You considered saying something, for a second. He wouldn’t yell, but you could, you had before. You’d snap at him, writhe and thrash until he decided you’d be easier to handle restrained, or sedated, or too exhausted to care what he did to you. You could, if you wanted to. You could.

But, you didn’t. You went limp, instead, letting your head fall to the side and your gaze drift to the far wall, only barely in focus. You could feel him start to thrust into you, again, hear his panting, his voice muttering bittersweet nothings in your ear, but you couldn’t make any of it out. You didn’t want to.

.   .   .   .

everything was nothing, but a bunch of fuzzy spots and body tremors. and she knows it’s sinister, but ellie can’t help but smile down at you. you are so fucking helpless. nervous system broken, saliva pooling and stringing onto the pillow beneath you. shivering, floating, spinning. so fucking dizzy. her poor, poor baby.

ellie’s hand is an anchor that pulls you back into reality, gliding down the slope of your body and surfacing chills and heat among every spot she touches. you respond with a soft whine and a gentle, reflexive clench of the pillow beneath you. “good girl…” you hear her shush you but can’t quite yet make out the rest of what she says. it only lingers over your side – like her hand, making its rounds. and you melt, your body slumping and yet your back deepening its arch as her touch passes through it, like your body truly does belong to her.

ellie hums, biting her lip in amusement and pure sexual frustration. “look at you.. you’re such a mess, aren’t you baby?” your eyes flutter closed as a broken, whimper slips past your lips. ellie’s eyes follow her own hand as it glides down your side, to your ass. she grips a cheek, pulling it apart and sighing at how your pussy looks. glistening in the lamplight, clinging to her silicone cock. a faint “fuck” falls under her breath as she pushes herself back inside of you, and you almost choke on a gasp. “taking it all so, so well.” ellie bottoms out inside of you with ease, and you don’t even hear the cracked moans that leave your lips. instead only feeling her as she takes advantage of your slickness, burying herself inside you in steep, deliberate thrusts, again and again, and again.

your eyes start to roll and your body begins to crumble. but she catches it, hand keeping your ass raised. “e–llie,” you choked, reaching back only for her to grasp both of your wrists, bind them to your own back, and fuck you harder.

“mm mm, you said you wanted me to use you, didn’t you? wanted me to fuck you until you couldn’t fucking take it anymore? you fucking slut, were you lying to me?” it was so fucking deep, she was so fucking deep, you felt your brain shortcircuit and your eyes begin to well–

a sob gets caught in your throat as ellie, gripping your wrists with her left hand, pulled your head back by your hair with her right. you were dumb with pleasure. mouth ajar, eyes stinging, voice fading. fucking pathetic. “was that it? were you fucking lying to me? you just didn’t believe me, huh?”  the pain from your scalp combined with ellie’s gritting near your teeth was so much, you swore for a second you saw god. you probably did.

and ellie wasn’t stopping. ellie didn’t slow down. ellie was menacing, knocking against the spongy bundle of nerves inside of you with stamina fueled by mock-indignation that had your body twitching and that pulled tears down your cheeks. it was so much. you were going to break, it was so fucking much. but holy shit, it was so fucking good, it was so, so fucking good–

“e–ellie– p–ple–” “please, what?”

“please– pleasedon’tfuckings–stop, f—uck–”

a cocky, shit-eating smile spread across ellie’s lips. therefore, her chuckle was dangerous. “yeah?” ellie pulled your hands back swiftly and you gasped at the feeling of her body against yours. the warmth was so sudden, and it was enough for you to nearly completely slump against her, mind empty as she held you there. she was as sweaty as you, if not more, and hardly gave you any room to process the change in position before she’d already begun to fuck up into you. hitting that spot from a newer, direct angle, and not caring. her hand reached to massage your clit in sloppy, yet calculated passings. her teeth sunk into your neck, creating another hickey, and then another.

and you took it. helpless. that tingling sensation building, piling, collapsing inside of you, rendering you unable to do anything other than slur her name like it was a chorus. like it was a prayer.

“cum for me. fucking let go, i want you to fucking squirt all over me. do it. you can do it, one more time for me, angel. let me see how fucking good i make you feel–”

your orgasm hits you before ellie can finish her sentence.

it pours of you, warm and pornographic. and everything is nothing, but a bunch of white noise and spasms and trails of saltwater down your cheeks making way for your tongue. ellie fucks you through it, slow, and suddenly so careful. kissing away the tears, and over your jaw, and behind your ear. her hand, spanning part of your abdomen, massages you tenderly, while she hums coos into your ear of that’s it and i know, baby. “good girl..” she whispers. “that’s my good girl.”

it was so good that had it weren’t for the state of your fucked-out mind, it was something you wouldn’t allow yourself to forget any part of. but you couldn’t breathe. couldn’t think, head swimming with just the idea of her and her loving, tending grasps on the parts of your body that needed them the most. eventually, she decided that you had enough, and laid you down. you felt empty during the period where she’d undone her strap, and took her own second to breathe. but it wasn’t long before she was there again, denting the bed and making her presence more than noticeable.

she kisses up your shaking thighs to tease you and laughs when you flinch and whine, immediately reaching to shove her off but she catches your hands with a bundle of laughs. “okay, okay okay okay, i hear you,” she giggles. you feel yourself smile as she peppers kisses on your lips and briefly lets go of your wrists to instead take your palms as though they were fragile.

“you want me to clean to you up?” ellie offers, between pressing kisses on your cheek. incoherently, you mumble and ellie snickers, understanding the answer almost immediately. later. and later she would – maybe by showering with you and massaging your scalp, letting you slip into one of her shirts after, and letting you lay on her while you guys played uncharted, or something. but for now, she understood. she reaches for the covers which she thankfully pushed away before the deed, and engulfs you both. naturally, ellie pulls you close. her kisses against your forehead are firm, her shushes are featherlight, and her hold is unbreakable.

“you did so good, baby. m’so proud of you,” ellie mumbles near your ear. you barely respond in the crook of her neck and hear her chest vibrate as she chuckles silently.

she tightens her embrace slightly, kissing your forehead one more time as if to solidify that she was real, and not a figment of your fragmented mind. “it’s okay. i’m right here,” she promises. “go to sleep.”

and of course, you were helpless. unable to do much of anything, except believe her.

so you clenched your fists against her skin, and she’d kiss you, one more time.

When he followed you home that first night he did something he hadn’t before with his other victims, he watched you. Watched you walk into your duplex apartment, watched you eat a less than appealing looking frozen dinner. Watched you scroll through your phone mindlessly, the everyday movements and actions of your average human. Except he couldn't seem to look away from you, didn't find himself bored the more he watched or the less intrigued to put you out of your misery the way he usually felt when he watched humans. No, there was something with the way you chewed on your bottom lip, the way you radiated every emotion that your face didn't show even without him having to enter your mind. Without him so much as having to put in the effort.

You let everything show with the sag of your shoulders, the deflation of your breathing, the cast of the dark shadows in your eyes. Druig had always found human emotions interesting in the sense that they were fun to toy with. To pick and poke, to muddle and bend and tease their host with when he took over their mind. It was his way of making his prey suffer before he gave them an out, before he saved them of the human condition; true misery.

But without so much of his eyes turning that deep gold he knew you were already there. That no matter how lousy your frozen meal, the contents that shone on your phone, or your attention on other things—tv, writing, drinking—you were already in misery.

And maybe that's what intrigued him. Maybe he could smell the scent of your poor soul begging and pleading with him to put you out of your misery from miles away. Maybe that's why he just kept watching you that first night, his eyes following you every place you went throughout your space; kitchen, living, your sad looking couch, bedroom, and the shower. Where a devilish smile had etched across Druig’s stone demeanor, the only emotion he seemed to posses; devilish thrill, lust, the smirk of sickness from getting joy at the dark luck and deceiving of others, to others.

He watched you strip completly bare, he had never quite found the appeal of fucking his meals, his prey, had never given it a second thought. But as his eyes roamed your body; your tits that were just begging for him to sink his teeth in, the thought of blood pooling around your nipple as it ran down the top of our breast, his tongue coming to lick and suck it off, your body convulsing in pleasure in pain from the action: had his cock straining against his pants. Had him wanting to light your eyes with that gold that he knew would be the nail in the coffin, doing him in once he had full control of you, once he could make you tip your neck back and let him sink his teeth into you.

And that's exactly what he did after you dried yourself from your shower, slipping into bed and drifting off to sleep. It taking little to no effort for him to break into your house, something that made him smirk, he loved when his prey was already helpless, dumb, easy for him to ensare. When he reached your bedroom, when he stood beside your bed looking down at your sleeping form, he did not see peace on your face. He did not see the somber look most humans got when they slept—he hadn’t done much watching of them though, he didn't like to strike when his meals were not awake. The blood tasted different when they were all riled up, when fear set in.

No this was the first time he allowed himself to spend this much time watching, biding his time. And he felt the anger in his chest begin to prick at him as he wondered what was so special about you, why he had stood and watched for so long, why all he wanted was to pull back the covers and let his hand run up your legs and delicious looking abdomen.

But as he watched your sleeping face contort and body twitch, soft whimpers falling from your lips, and that devilish thrill shot through him, all too familiar, all too much like a drug that made the lack of blood in his veins strain—almost pumping with joy.

The nightmare that was overtaking your sleeping mind was like foreplay to him, to watch and listen to the helplessness; Druig was an expert at providing nightmares to people's minds, for fun, to eat them, when he was bored. Sprite had once named him as the Boogeyman, the thing that only haunted your mind at night, while you were fast asleep. And he wore the nickname like a badge of honor, the only thing incorrect about the sentiment was that he didn't need to haunt, to hunt, at night. He was just as pleased to watch mortals squirm and cry in the daylight. Misery had no time stamp, neither did his hunger.

And the salivation he felt in his mouth, his jaw tight, his teeth aching, begging, pleading to make contact with your flesh. His tongue tingling at the thought of running across your skin, of feeling the warmth of your blood coat it. Druig knew now, understood why he was so ensnared by you; his prey switching the roles with him completely. You made his job easy, you made the hunt less straining—something he hates—but with you, the scent you gave off as your heart pounded faster in fear? Misery? Both. The way your body looked so fragile and beautiful as misery and suffering wracked through your form; it was tantalizing to him. It made lust and thrill make his entire being ache.

He moved the covers from your body, watched your body shiver. Let his fingers run up your withering legs, the desire to grip your thighs so hard that bruises stuck, leave his teeth marks in them, taste the blood so close to your sweet cunt. Images of your naked form, that beautiful mound between your legs, from earlier making his fingers linger at the edge of your panties. He could do it, could rip them off right now and devour you whole until you were a mess around his mouth, or his cock. He could turn your mind into molten gold at his control and whim. Could make you even more helpless and fuck you, bite you, taste you, suck you until he got his fill. Until you were holding on to your last breath.

But that would end the fun, his fun. It surprised him how much will power he had to let you live, how much interest had taken over him to only allow himself to press his teeth to your wrist, your closed eyelids shining gold behind them as his lips pressed to your skin. Your veins pumping against his tongue as he took his fill, your taste sweet, too sweet; Druig‘s eyes rolling in the back of his head, trying to hold on to control of himself, of you. The willpower to keep you alive becoming stronger, filling him with a sick need and want that had him smirking against your skin.

He was going to have fun with you.

And fun he had. Visiting you every night since then, watching from afar. Ignoring the offers from Ikaris to go on one of their demented hunts. There was only one prey, one human with the sweetest blood, softest skin, bleak and gentle whimpers that he needed, wanted, craved.

“They’re not pets.” Ikaris had said to him after him, and the rest of them, had found out where he had been spending all of his time. Had seen his interest quickly become obsession; obsession that left anyone who showed an ounce of interest in you dead in the street with their blood sucked dry, friends turning up missing if they took too much of your attention and took up his play time with you. You were his now, he had set his teeth in every part of your flesh, had laughed when he always saw your reactions to new marks, new bruises that mysteriously showed up on your body. Smirked at how you thought everyone hated you because your friends soon ignored your calls, dates never to be seen or heard from again. It only added to your misery and the sick desire Druig was getting out of it.

If he had a heart he was sure it might feel something from seeing you cry, from watching you beg to some God that didn't exist to take your hurt away. But he was your God now. You his sweet angel who he couldnt get enough of torturing. Of showing the closest thing to love as Druig could feel to you in doses of misery and beautiful bite marks. He would take away your pain, or add to you it. Both would bring him joy, and soon enough bring that same joy to you, he had let himself hope.

That's what obsession was wasn't it? Love felt so strongly that it drives you crazy and makes you do insane things. Makes you cum across your fingers as the love of your life pleaded for help, all thanks to you.

“They're food.” Ikaris had reminded him. “You either eat them, or fuck them. Don’t get attached, Druig. Don’t be pathetic.”

And maybe he was pathetic. Maybe Druig let himself slip so far into the beauty and intrigue of you that he was pathetic, if anyone knew pathetic it was Ikaris, the family joke. Even he hadn't let himself become obsessed like this. But much like he did any other time, Druig couldnt give a fuck what anyone had to say. You were his favorite toy, his angel, his who he would keep for as long as your blood didn’t run out. And fuck was that hard. To not feel your body go completely lifeless against him, that familiar coldness to press against him as he took everything from you, as you gave it over to him willingly—thanks to the beautiful gold in your eyes.

But he couldn't, and wouldn't do that. Not yet. Maybe not ever. He loved you too much to do that, needed you, craved you, your scent, your helpless touch, your sweet tang on his tongue. He doesn't know how he survived this long without your taste, without watching you sleep, without caressing your warm skin. No, the only way you were going to leave this Earth was if he let his venom seep into your veins—draining you lifeless and dry—and you becoming just like him; dead. Then he would truly have you forever. You'd be his forever, he would have made you, helped you ascend your misery into something so sinister and beautiful that you would have no choice but to be grateful to him. With a life like yours he was sure it wouldn't take much for you to be grateful for a small gesture, and this one would be huge, would be the type of devotion one could only beg for.

Until then though he was having fun with you this way.

He never took it past letting his teeth graze, sink and suck parts of your flesh that was exposed while you slept. He never removed anything but the covers. Never let himself go that far, never let that line be crossed. The thought of having you coherent and aware as you took his cock got him off more than the sight of your sadness.

And he knew that was a fine line. He also knew he had stepped over it just an inch as he currently had your body pressed to a cold brick wall in an alley, your eyes golden, body compliant. Druig’s resolve had taken a hit when he had followed you to a bar, had seen you dance and drink and have a good time with the friends he let live. Had felt his fist clench and slam into a nearby tree; leaving a larger than humanly possible dent in the bark, as he watched some guy rub up against you. The anger flaring in his dead veins not just cause from your happiness—he didn't mind you being happy, sometimes, he actually found himself fond of the times you were happy, to see your smile and hear your laugh. It was the point that you weren't happy with him. If anyone should be making you feel any emotion other than complete misery it was him. You were his, claimed with blood and gold and if he wanted you to be in misery then you would, if he wanted you to be happy then you would.

At least that's what he told himself what his anger was about, and not that you let some other man touch you, even press a kiss to your lips before even he had done that. He was pathetic, just like Ikaris had said. To allow himself to feel things like this for something made to be eaten was pathetic.

And yet as his palm pressed to your neck and nails dug into your skin, his hand shaking and begging to cut off your air supply with a kind of need that fueled his rage even more; he found himself hesitating, found himself dreading the thought of losing you. Of no longer having his angel to toy with, to taste, to possibly make into a blood thirsting monster such as himself. He couldn't do it.

His fingers ran along your bottom lip, your pulse point, across your chest. His eyes never leaving the molten gold of yours as he watched the way—even under his hold—how your body reacted to him even when he didn’t make it. Druig thinks that's what he found the most interesting about you. How even when he was controlling your mind and body you still let out hitched breaths, or soft moans that he didn't permit for you to. As if there was one part of your brain that he couldn't fully posses, but still mewled and keened at his touch. That craved it, if the way you were slowly gyrating your hips when his hand moved down between your legs, let the slightest of grazes touch over your clothed core like he had done many times—but never let himself linger there.

But maybe tonight was the night to do that. Maybe he needed to claim you in another way, to cross that line to solidify that you were his, that you belonged to him. Maybe that's what he needed, what he's been craving all along. Not just a toy, or prey. Something that was more than just blood on his tongue, maybe if he did this he could put his midas touch on your brain that would have you recoiling any time someone else tried to touch you. Your body not letting you make a fool out of the both of you because it would know who you belonged to.

Or maybe those thoughts were just an excuse for him to slip his fingers past your underwear and let the warm slick of your pussy coat his fingers. Whatever it was he couldn't stop the ache in his cock or the tick in his jaw at the feel of your velvet walls as his fingers slipped inside you. He could smell your wetness, the sweetest smell, sweeter than your blood. Could feel his teeth draw his own blood as he bit his lower lip trying to control his need to sink them into you, to take pleasure from you while you were feeling it. To completely connect the two of you in more than one way.

No, he wanted to watch you right now. The wire of your brain flicking with golden pleasure from his fingers. Making you grip the side of his leather jacket, your hips thrusting into his palm, your clit rubbing up against it making your legs shake. Fuck you were beautiful, a beautiful angel, all his. To take from. To steal from. To love. To own. No nightmarish whimpers, or cries of misery could hold a candle to how you sounded like this, how your moans were like a siren song to his ears. Pulling him in closer, making him want you more, making his body feel impossibly warm with life he didn't have.

Druig had let himself become completely consumed by a human, had let himself be taken as prey to a beautiful angel that provided him with more than any bite to another's neck could. And if this was what pathetic was then he truly felt alive with it.

His fingers found the back of your neck, wrapped in your hair and brought your lips to his in a sweltering rough kiss that had his teeth nicking your flesh and licking the cut. Druig had lived for longer than he cared to count for, he had tasted many, destroyed many, driven many into insanity to the point of sickness. But nothing felt as good as your lips on his and your walls spasming against his fingers as you came, your moans landing on his tongue like the sweetest sedation.

“Fuck,” Druig groaned once he sliped his fingers from you, tasting your juices. His eyes rolling back, his body craving more more more. Of you, of your cunt, every bit of you. It was no longer just blood he was in need of, could live off of; it was you. And the next time he was going to taste you and make you cum would be with his mouth, and on his cock; aware and coherent.

And so the next time Druig sees you, when you look into his eyes they're not gold, they're normal, unclouded. And you're giving him a sheepish smile when you say “oh, I’m so sorry” after bumping into him and dropping the contents in your arms.

Druig bending down politely and picking up the fallen items, giving you a devilish smile as he handed them back to you, “no worries, love. I was distracted.”

“You do see what you look like, right? I mean… My auntie dresses weird, but I know her. I’m not letting some strange man into my home to see my baby. Thank you for trying, bye.” I closed the door on him, but it wasn’t the last I had seen of Bo.

Bo came back the next day, asking to see Sebastain again. But as I was going to close the door in his face he earnestly said, “He’s a very special baby! I’m here to help him!”

I glared at him through the crack in the door. “What are you talking about?”

Bo sighed. “Your son’s birth has been foretold for generations. He is meant to be the most powerful sorcerer this world will ever see.”

I scowled. “Is this Harry Potter?”

“No. I am serious. My kind have been watching over the great magic users and sages since the world was new. It is my responsibility to see to your son’s well-being, and teach him magic so he may use it wisely.”

“Your kind?” I asked.

“I am a qilin.” Bo laid his palms flat on his chest. “To put it in the simplest of terms, a unicorn.”

This was a bit hard to swallow. “Then why do you look like a guy if you’re a unicorn? Where’s your horn?”

Bo huffed in disappointment. “This is a form I have to take in order to walk amongst humans. My real form is sealed until your son performs his first spell under my tutelage. I know this must be strange and even hard to believe, but this is extremely important.”

“I’m too broke to be buying nonsense. So either come back with some sort of proof, or stop trying to be weird around kids.”

I was about to close the door when suddenly his hand closed over mine. The ring on his finger shimmered brightly, leaving a trail of pink light behind it, and the gem set in it reminded me of the pink moon I saw the night Sebastian was born. “Please. I only want to help, Ms. Valynsia” Bo pleaded gently.

His expression was soft and gentle, and dare I say he even looked beautiful, which made me soft. “The last time I let some strange man into my house I ended up pregnant.”

Bo’s brows pursed. “The child’s father is not around?”

“No. He vanished not long after I found out about the baby. So I am mother and father for as long as I have to be.”

“How odd. Usually the father is supposed to…” Bo stopped and lifted his chin. “All the more reason I should be here. You won’t be alone, Ms. Valynsia.”

It took some more convincing, as well as my own research online. Qilin are supposed to bring prosperity and good luck, and much like Bo said, they appear during the arrival of great rulers and sages. Bo visited each day until I let him in to see Sebastian and then I realized there was real magic involved. Sebastian floated out of his crib to meet Bo, like an infant Peter Pan. He instantly took to Bo, too, and after that first meeting Sebastian would cry and scream when Bo was not around. It started wreaking havoc in the house, as his cries made things fly off shelves, walls move, and even changed the layout of his nursery.

At wit’s end, I let Bo in. It was strange at the beginning, having this man in my home. Bo’s clothing and movements both hinted that he wasn’t exactly human. But Sebastian adored him, and after some time I got used to him too. Having Bo there was a blessing, especially when I went back to work.

Time passed, and Bo became a normal part of our lives. I was able to help him try to acclimate to human behaviors, and pick out a new wardrobe, although his taste was still suspect. He helped me understand Sebastian’s abilities and importance, although that still terrified me. “He is meant to do important things, but he will always be yours,” Bo told me. “He will always have your wisdom and strength with him, which is part of what makes him so powerful. Because you’re a good mother, he will be a good leader.”

I sighed and rubbed at my cheeks. “You’re going to make me cry, Bo.”

Bo chuckled. “It’s true, Ms. Valynsia.” He placed his hand upon my back, and his palm was warm.

Sebastian’s sixth birthday rolled around, and I got busy planning the party. Sebastian was excited, as he had so many new friends from school to invite. This was his first big-boy birthday party. “Six is a big age,” Bo was telling him over breakfast one morning. “And a very powerful number.”

“Really?” Sebastian looked up from his plate.

Bo nodded. “Six is a sign for happiness and harmony, which means this could be an important year for you.”

“Every year seems big,” Sebastian said in awe.

The smile on Bo’s face as he looked at Sebastian always made my heart flutter. Something about it was so adorable, and I could tell he loved my son, which meant more to me than I knew. “This one is going to be extra-big.”

“Whoa!”

I chuckled and handed Sebastain his lunchbox. “Hurry up and finish eating. Your bus will be here soon.”

“Okay, Mommy. Thank you.” He picked up his toast with both hands to eat.

“Is there anything you’re wishing for? Since it’s going to be such a lucky year for you, it will probably come true.”

Sebastian got a look on his face I couldn’t quite read. “Will you and Mommy be getting married?”

Bo choked on his tea, and I very nearly put the knife I was cleaning through my palm. “Sebastian, what are you talking about?”

“What?” he asked with a slight pout.

“As honored as I would be, your mother and I are not…” Bo hesitated and adjusted his glasses. “Your mother and I are indeed very close, but there is nothing…” He seemed to be having a hard time saying that word.

“The bus!” There was no time to think about it now. I rushed Sebastain out as the bus honked and the kids inside yelled, and when I came back into the house there was a curious tension in the air. “I had no idea he had such thoughts in his head,” I sighed. “That boy.”

Bo sighed. “It is not so silly when you see things from his point of view, Ms. Valynsia. He has two people who have cared for him all his life, and who love him. Of course he would get that idea in his head.”

“Well…” I murmured, unsure of where I was heading.

“It’s hard to say what he knows of romance aside from those cartoon movies he adores.” Bo had a strange expression on his face. “He may assume more than we know.”

I put the dishes away and stood there for a second. “Didn’t you say that his words have power once?”

“All words do,” Bo said softly. “Sebastian, though, has a funny way of knowing what’s true, even if he doesn’t grasp it yet.”

I made myself laugh. “It’s silly, though!”

“Yes,” Bo looked distant. “It is.”

I screwed my mouth into a tight line. “I have to get to work. You don’t mind picking Sebastian up today, do you?”

“Not at all. I’ll be happy to see him. Is there anything you’d like for dinner?” Bo asked.

I shook my head. “Whatever you make will be fine.” The tension in the air was growing.

A big storm came that weekend, and we had to reschedule Sebastain’s birthday party. He was beside himself with disappointment, and stayed snuggled up with me or Bo all day. I read to him and made a blanket fort in hopes of cheering him up. That evening, in hopes of lifting his spirits, I let him go stay with his grandparents, who promised to spoil him rotten the next day. He always loved staying the night with them. They had a bigger TV, and his grandmother made his favorite food.

After he was gone, I felt a bit heavy. I was disappointed too. I had been working so hard to plan for this big party, and now it had to wait. I went back into the living room to clean up the blanket fort and noticed Bo was inside. “What’re you doing?” I knelt in the entrance.

Bo quickly put his glasses back on. “I’m sorry, Ms. Valynsia. I was going to clean up, but it seemed cozy in here.” He smiled up at me. “Did he seem excited to be going to his grandparents?”

“He was still a bit pouty.” I sat down with him inside. “I thought turning six was supposed to make him happy.”

“It will, just in ways that won’t seem obvious at first.” Bo smiled at me. “Even this disappointment will have meaning for him.”

I smiled back, then looked down at the book we had been reading. I went to pick it up, but Bo reached it the same time I did. Our fingers touched and while I started to chuckle, Bo’s cheeks bloomed bright red. “Are you hot or something?”

I reached up to touch his forehead and he pulled back, grabbing my hand to keep it away. “No, I’m fine.” He scooted back until his head got stuck into the blankets.

“You’re acting weirder than normal, and that’s saying something. You’ve been a little iffy all week. Is something wrong?”

Bo huffed and pulled his hair over his shoulder, stroking it through his fingers. I had only noticed him do this a few times before, once when Sebastian had an extremely high fever and had to stay overnight in the hospital, another time when Sebastian had a bad splinter, and then again when he went to school for the first time.

“Something’s up. If you can’t tell me, then I’m going to worry.”

Boo shook his head and had a slight frown on his lips. “It’s not something that needs to be worried about. Not by you, at least.”

I gave him a cross, concerned look. “That sounds like I need to.”

Bo licked his lip, then tucked it between his teeth. “This isn’t something that should happen. It’s strange.”

“Bo!”

He looked back up at me and his cheeks went red again. “What Sebastian wants for his birthday, what he told us a few days ago…” His voice cracked and he turned away again. “I don’t think it is entirely ridiculous.”

A jolt went through my heart. “That we should get married?” I laughed.

“Yes. I have been dealing with some complicated feelings for a long time, but I did not want to admit it until Sebstian so boldly announced his wish.”

I held my breath as Bo continued to stroke his long hair. “I do have feelings for you,” he breathed. “For a long time, actually.”

My heart was racing. “You do?”

Bo couldn’t look at me. “This isn’t supposed to happen. The legends stated the child would have parents who embodied wisdom and kindness. I am not supposed to fall in love with…” He stopped and hung lower.

“Bo, I…”

Bo shook his head. “You don’t need to say anything. You don’t have to tell me it will be okay, or that you care for me. I know you do, and I understand if you do not feel the same. Sebastian is what matters, and I will overcome these feelings with time. All I require is your friendship.”

I placed my hand on his cheek and raised his head. At first he resisted, but then he gave in and let my palm meet his cheek. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him. I sat up to reach his lips and I felt myself melting into him. Bo’s lips parted in surprise, and then he placed his hands on my shoulders. His long fingers slowly moved up, touching my face as the kiss deepened. “Ms. Valynsia,” Bo whispered as we parted. “I don’t think my heart can take this.”

“You don’t have to call me Miss. Just call me by my name.” I smiled softly at him before I leaned in to kiss his cheek.

Bo turned slightly, our lips brushing together again. It felt so right, felt so needed. His touch was gentle, and his hands shook. Both of us were nervous, but so sure of what we were doing. I ran my fingers through his hair, and Bo took hold of my braids and let them sift through his fingers. “Alright,” he breathed. “Valynsia.” He made a face. “It sounds so weird, I’m sorry.”

I kissed him again. “You’ll get used to it.”

I woke the next day inside the blanket fort with Bo’s arms wrapped around me. His glasses were set to the side, but his eyes were closed. I’d never seen him with the sunglasses off. He had always been beautiful, but in slumber there was a fairy tale quality to him. His long lashes fluttered in sleep, and as I rose he began to stir, although he fought rising.

Last night, when he confessed his feelings, I was too overwhelmed to fully voice my own. All these years my fondness for him had grown, and the more he loved Sebastian the more I fell in love with him. His smile, his odd ways, even his odd dress - I adored them all. I suppose I had been afraid of falling in love again and being that vulnerable around someone. In fact, I was still afraid.

Bo’s eyes fluttered open, and I saw a bright flash of pink. He quickly put on his sunglasses again and sat up. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I muttered.

He smiled shyly. “So…” he looked around, confused. “Morning.”

I chuckled to myself. “I hope your back is okay, having slept on the floor all night.”

“I’m fine. Are you?”

I looked at him and my heart rumbled again. “Mhm,” I nodded.

“Oh, good, good.” His cheeks began to redden. “Well… let's clean up, or I can make breakfast. Either way,” his voice cracked, “you probably want a shower. You should go first. I’ll, uh… I’ll wait here.” He stroked his hair.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes there is, and it is mortifying!” Bo huffed. “Please, just give me this grace.”

I glanced down to his lap. “Are you…?”

Bo placed a pillow over his lap. “Ms. Valynsia!”

I smiled and started laughing. For some reason, that broke the tension inside me, and I couldn’t help kissing him lovingly. “Okay, I’ll go take a shower.” I kissed him again, not really wanting to leave.

“Don’t laugh. Ms. Valynsia, it isn’t funny.” He kissed me in return, laughing between each embrace. “You’re making it worse.”

I grinned. “I thought you were some proper, slightly stuffy gentleman. I’m a bit shocked.”

Bo’s smile was big and beautiful. “Even proper, stuffy men like me can be felled by a beautiful woman. Now I beg you again, leave so I can calm myself.”

“It’s natural. You don’t have to be so ashamed. But I’ll leave you be.” I rose to crawl out of the blanket fort. “Maybe we should have a better talk later. About last night.”

“Yes, of course.” Bo said from inside. “I’ll make breakfast.”

I took my time in the shower, allowing myself to cool down as well. Once I was done, I changed into comfortable clothes and went into the kitchen. Bo was cooking, and wearing a new change of clothes as well. His hair was tied back and I could see the elegant nape of his neck, which looked kissable. “I know you’re there,” he said.

“I know you know,” I jibed. I stood beside him over the eggs he was frying. “Do you feel better now?”

“I’m still mortified,” he scoffed. “But I will survive.”

“I do love you,” I murmured.

He stabbed the yolk of the egg. then quickly moved the pan aside. “Don’t startle me like that! I love you too,” Bo huffed.

I could almost cry. “I have for a long time, just like you said. But I was so scared, Bo. Scared it would hurt, scared it would hurt you and Sebastian. I was… am terrified of opening up like that again.”

“You don’t need to explain anything to me, Valynsia. I was scared for the same reasons. I mean, this job is important. Sebastian is everything to me, not just because of my responsibility, but because I love him too. You’re both…” I saw tears slip down Bo’s cheek from under his glasses. “There is so much at stake here.”

I stood on tiptoes to kiss him. “And that is what made me fall in love with you.”

Bo took off his glasses, and I saw the pink moons in his eyes. I wiped away the tears on his face and he held my hand there, kissing it lovingly.

Not long after his sixth birthday party, Sebastian came running up to me, more excited than I had ever seen him before. “Mommy! Mommy!” He tackled my legs and nearly knocked me over.

“Easy, baby, easy!” I knelt down to be face to face with him. “What’s got you so excited?”

“I finally did it! Bo taught me!”

Bo came into the room, having chased after Sebastain from the yard. “Show her. Go ahead!” He sounded just as excited.

Sebastian held up his hands and concentrated hard until his fingertips began to glow. Small sparks of light flew between his palms, and then a ball of light began to form. It grew bigger and bigger, then folded out and created petals. He then held a lotus blossom in his hands. “I did magic! Like Bo said!” Sebastian bounced excitedly, showing me the lotus he had made.

It was his first spell. Sebastian raced back over to Bo with a big grin. “Remember your promise?”

“I do,” Bo said softly. “Now that you’ve mastered your first spell, it means I can show you what I really look like.”

I had forgotten about that. When Sebastain was still a baby, Bo had told me his appearance was locked until this milestone. Only then could he reveal his true appearance.

Bo took off his glasses, and his eyes began to glow. Sebastain stepped back, standing with me as Bo began to change. The light in the room shifted, flickering and dancing, turning pink around Bo. Bo then shook off the light, standing before us as the mystical beast he was. His hair had become the mane draped over his long neck, and pink flames rose around his face and legs. Dark purple scales covered his body, and a single horn jutted from his forehead. His back legs were hooved, but his front limbs ended in clawed hands, which he extended to us.

“So, how do I look?”

“Cool!” Sebastian ran up to him, touching the pink flames - which didn’t burn - and giggling over how cool his best friend looked.

Bo turned, looking expectantly at me. I approached him and smiled. “You’re so beautiful.”

His gaze softened and he chuckled. “You don’t think I’m odd?” His voice was human.

I took hold of his hand. “Of course I do, but I still adore you.”

Sebastian went to bed easily that night. Mastering a spell and seeing Bo’s true form really tired him out. He snored loudly as I tucked him in and shut his door, then headed towards my room to get ready for bed. I hesitated. I instead went to Bo’s door, which had once been a closet, but which he had magicked into a full-size room. I knocked on his door and nervously waited.

“Come in.”

I stepped into Bo’s room, seeing he was still in his qilin form. He looked up at me and suddenly shifted back to his human guise. “Why did you switch?” I asked.

“I figured you would…” He stopped and shrugged. “I’m a bit nervous.” He sat down on the foot of his bed.

“I think you’re handsome both ways.” I sat down beside him and placed my hand into his. “I’d like to see it again.”

“Really?”

I leaned in and kissed him, feeling the shift in his lips, his mouth. I saw those pink moons in his eyes as I pulled back, and the dark scales as well. I smoothed my hand over his long face, gently running my fingers through his mane.

“Is there something you wanted?” Bo asked shyly.

“Just you.”

His eyes went wide. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Only if you want me too, that is.” I ran my hand down his thigh.

Bo took a breath. “Of course I do. I just don’t want to rush. But I so want you.” He smiled. “Ever since that morning in the blanket fort, it’s always been a thought, a wish.”

“Wish granted.” I kissed him, falling over onto the bed as it deepened. I lost my breath as his kisses went down my body, and I was not prepared for the exceptionally long tongue he had. I hadn’t been so worshipped like this, touched and comforted, lit aflame.

“You’re so wet,” Bo breathed against my thigh.

“It’s been a while,” I caught my breath. “And you’re…”

His long tongue pushed between my folds and flicked up, hitting that very sensitive bud. Bo moaned and pressed more kisses into me, and it was almost becoming too much for me. I had to push him aside and lay him out, kissing him as I reached below his waist. “Ms. Valynsia,” he breathed.

“Shh.” I took hold of his shaft, gently caressing it. It was surprisingly thick, with a flared head. “Let me take care of you now.” I kissed him again, grasping his length and stroking slowly. “There. Have you been wanting this?”

“Yes,” Bo whimpered.

I kissed his cheek. “Is this how you imagined me touching you?”

He grunted in reply.

“Or did you picture something else?” I teased.

“Where did this come from?” Bo panted. “I didn’t imagine you being so… so verbal.” He whimpered and jerked his hips as my touch became more intense.

“I like seeing you fidget like this.” I kissed him hungrily. “Now tell me, is this how you imagined it?” Bo whimpered. “Or do you want something else?” I purred. I moved my hand away and hiked my leg over his, straddling his thighs

Bo’s mouth opened and he sighed. “Valynsia, this…”

I slowly took him inside. He was quite thick, so it took me a moment. His eyes glowed brightly, and his pink flames shuddered. I whimpered once he was all inside. “Like this.” His hands wrapped around me, holding me firmly. “I wanted to see you like this.”

“Oh, Bo.” I squeezed around him, rubbing him deeply within me. “Touch me.”

His hands roamed across my body as I lifted myself up. I lowered myself again, feeling him slip in more easily. The more I moved, the better it felt. I watched him, eagerly taking in his pleasured expressions and voice. I rode him harder and harder. My legs would be useless come morning, but it didn’t matter. I wanted him, I needed this, and it felt so much better knowing he felt the same.

I woke to Bo’s kisses on my shoulder. His sweet smile greeted me when I opened my eyes. “I’ll go get breakfast started,” he whispered. “And I’ll bring you some clean clothes after I check on Sebastian.”

“Wait.” I pulled him down and kissed as passionately as I could. “I love you.”