So, I want to make it very clear that while ‘Breathtaken’ itself is rated mostly for things that (at the moment) will happen in the future, this is a oneshot and as such is rated for the entire thing. Especially the very first scene. Not really my fault, either. This is how it came out. Another one of those things where I wrote it, and looked at it, and said, “Really?” …Then I kept writing because I only had a page-and-a-half at that point…In the middle of my German class.

I swear I pay attention. Yeah. Let’s go with that, shall we?

Beauty

Kendrick's PoV

"He's gone, Beauty." I whispered, nails of one hand digging into the pale flesh of a once-Hunter's arm, just before the elbow. A whimper sounded from the slim form, and I would have smirked, but was far too distracted by the tender neck that was obvious below me. I lowered my face to the flesh, grazing my fangs over soft skin. Breath quickened, blood pounded in my ears, and I could hear his blood rushing through his oh-so human veins. No wonder what had been mine before this white arched throat had craved it so.

My desire, however, was different from his. I knew Armand truly wanted him. What I wanted was to make him hurt. To make him bleed, cry for me, and need me. He would become mine in a way he had never belonged to my other lover. I always received what I wanted.

The hand not already surrounding one of his arms moved to his chin, dragging it down a little towards his chest so the boy (for he was in no way a man- Armand had never bothered to take him as I planned to) was forced to look at my face. Amber eyes were narrowed up at me and I again wondered that I hadn't taken him yet. That I'd waited until now. I tightened the hold I had on his chin, just a little, and his skin broke. The air was think with the smell of his blood, but then, that smell had hardly faded since I'd claimed him. The boy took my blood every night to heal, yes- and then I would bleed him again. It wasn't my fault that I delighted so in his blood.

Or that I was quite insatiable.

"He's gone, and I wasn't responsible for it. Oh no." I could see the pain in his eyes. Even without the flinch it would have been impossible for someone like myself to miss the extreme emotion. I kept speaking, after a short brush of my mouth across his lower lip. "It was your pretty sister, wasn't it? And she's gone too. I didn't do that either, of course."

The boy opened his mouth, or started to, and I smiled. He didn't bother to say anything. I'd allow him to talk, mind. There hadn't been a reason not to. Outside of his first evening in my home, when he'd been sobbing his pretty little eyes out and nothing more, I'd had no purpose to hit him. And it had been no small miracle that when I backhanded him across the face, his jaw hadn't snapped. This evening made almost three weeks exactly since that night: the night of Armand's death.

I released my hold on his face and pulled a single nail down the centre of his stomach. He shivered, arching his back slightly. A low chuckle emanated from my throat as I dipped the nail into his navel. "Yes?" I asked quietly. "I know you have something to say. So out with it." As I spoke the last few words, I dug further into his arm and brought one knee between his thighs, resulting in a gasp.

I'd hardly allowed the boy clothing so far. He didn't need it. My property would take what I chose to give.

"Bastard." The young one hissed, despite the obvious glow in his eyes. "Why not kill me?"

"Ah, but why kill you?" I changed the question to suit my needs. "Admit it or not," I said, leaning down and pulling his earlobe between my teeth. "you want this. Because it lets you stop thinking about the fact that you are responsible for those two deaths. Even if it was physically something else, you killed what belonged to me and that demanded her elimination." At the hands of Darrick, to be precise. The reason the boy had refused to have any contact with he or his Bonded since.

In the darkness, I watched as Alister Rowan took the arm I wasn't gripping and touched my chin, signifying the thing he wanted but would never come right out and ask for. Dear Lord, the child amused me. I wondered what he would possibly do without me now. I'd done far too much to him for him to be anywhere but with me. My face dipped closer to his, where my nose brushed the tip of his. I came quite close to kissing him.

Then I changed my mind.

If he wanted me to kiss him, now, after three weeks, he could ask me for it.

"Say it." I demanded, my hand abandoning his stomach as I leaned away from his face. I still hadn't let go of his arm. The pathetic being, however, I'll give him the credit, didn't even dare to cry. Perhaps he'd grown accustomed to the pain I inflicted, learned to accept it, or perhaps he even wanted it now. Or if he didn't, he would. Still, he never cried. He whimpered and flinched and sometimes tried to push me away, but I'd never seen or heard him cry since the night Armand died. "You have to say it, Beauty."

The boy drew in a sharp breath between his teeth, those damn amber eyes never leaving my face. His lips then drew together in a tight, rather unappealing line. I mused about what he may be thinking. Admittedly, I didn't understand him. The hand I'd taken from his stomach touched the lips, and I was so very tempted to cut the skin there. I managed to resist this urge, but couldn't help nibbling at his chin. Poor thing.

"What do you want?" I repeated cruelly. Inside, I wanted to make him scream right now. He was nothing like the lovers I'd enjoyed this much in the past. He was far too fragile, too pale, and much too human. Still, there was something delightful about him and his gentle looks, his soft voice, and his intoxicating blood be damned- there was nothing I wanted more than this little bastard. For the last few weeks, something in the boy had possessed me. Maybe whatever it was that had called out to Armand's sense. God knew what 'it' was. "All it takes is asking me."

The boy managed to surprise me then. Humans are mostly mundane creatures, predictable even at their best. Especially when someone has been around as long as I have. Thus not only did he shock me, I felt a deeper shock at the feeling of shock itself- something I hadn't felt in the longest of times.

He had decided to use the very same hand with which he'd told me (without telling me) what he wanted to take my chin and pull me to himself. Oh my. The boy's confidence was growing- he'd never done this before. I hissed, mentally damning the child. He wouldn't be walking tomorrow, but he wouldn't regret the cause. Because now even I couldn't possibly fight wanting him.

It was selfish of me, but I was in the mood to be selfish. That same mood had been a constant since I’d received him. There were many things I had felt endlessly since receiving him and yearning was one of them. As far as I was concerned, I had every right to be selfish. It was selfish of him to make me feel these things even if he didn't know he was doing it. It was selfish of both of us to do so much touching.

I took my lips from his as my eyes narrowed to match the child's in all but colour. Mine were far darker than his could ever be. This was selfish as well. He wanted to kiss me. Yet he had no place being so demanding. My fingers, tips still buried in his arm, itched to slap him.

"Defenceless child." I hissed at him, spreading his legs with my own. It was an effortless activity. Everything was effortless with him. Perhaps that was part of why he affected me in the same fashion alcohol would a human. "Tell me what you want."

Heightened senses allowed me to see every tremor in his lithe body. He took in a determined breath, his chest shaking and exciting me further. He'd be mine, fully and completely, within the next few minutes. The sonuvabitch wouldn't want to be away from me when I was through. "I want-" his voice broke off in a loud gasp as I ground my hips slowly against his. The fabric of my pants, I knew well, would have created amazing friction for the helpless beauty. Yet he was smart. He knew I wouldn't give without a finished sentence and so he struggled through the words. "Kendrick… I want- want you."

Oh yes. He did want me, didn’t he? A smirk touched my face now. "Is that so, Beauty?" He nodded desperately as I halted the motions of my hips. "Then tell me you belong to me."

The boy hurried his way through those words as well, and I deemed to satisfy him. …After a little bit more teasing. I lifted myself entirely off of him, finally releasing his arm as well. It appeared deliciously bloody, and the liquid was still coming from it. Being the oldest of my kind came in handy at times like this- I was able to resist draining him from the wound without a problem. I rested comfortably on my back beside him, a smug expression reaching across my lips.

“Alister,” I let my tongue slide over the word, relishing his name in my mouth. “Beauty, or perhaps Kitten- that’s what he called you, wasn’t it? Don’t worry, I won’t do that to you. Certainly I’m cruel enough… There is no doubt about that, am I right?”

He sobbed just once, hand searching out one of mine atop the satin sheets. White satin. A lovely colour when fresh, and even more beautiful once stained crimson. I had an endless supply. They weren’t exactly reusable and I wished for the power to always have previously unstained bedding. It had been this way with every lover I’d taken and he could be no exception in this area. This was my room, a place I carried him when I wished to do these things to his poor little form. Every night he demanded I take him back to his own quarters, and I obliged, having no reason to tell him ‘no’. I let him have my hand, wrapping the fingers around his. For once the action wasn’t to hurt him or even to bleed him a little.

“Such an exquisite little puppet you are. Isn’t that right, Beauty?” I purred as he struggled to climb onto me. I was even kind enough to help him up. How sad, that he needed me. “Show me how badly you need me. All it takes is a good job.”

The ex-Hunter pressed his mouth against mine softly, then with more force- or possibly it was urgency I sensed in him. Fascinating, because I could feel him quite well in his nudity, and he had yet to even harden against my leg. Despite all the coaxing. Not that it mattered if he was feeling it between his legs, because it was obvious that his mind was telling him what was most important right now.

And that was me.

I opened my mouth to his, letting him kiss me for all he was worth, feeling his tongue in my mouth. Half of me, or maybe less, wanted to lift a hand to his chest and toy with a nipple, just to see how he would react. The other half demanded I remain still to see what he would do. To see how far he would go to have me. Remaining unresponsive was not always easy when it came to this boy. Somehow he was still innocent and all I ever saw in his eyes was longing. Not necessarily longing for me, but a wish for something, sure enough. The boy had his hands on my shoulders, blood from the arm wounds I’d inflicted dripping onto my shirt. Too bad. But I could replace it easily.

I decided to bite his tongue. He yelped, breaking the kiss. I hadn’t bitten hard, though, and he still wanted me. How sweet.

“Kendrick…” His voice was ragged. I felt his slight weight (the young one couldn’t have been heavier than one-hundred and fifteen pounds) leave my chest, instead moving lower. This was interesting. Arousing even before I took note of his teeth against the button of my jeans. After a moment, he had both that and the zipper undone. His breath came warm against my flesh. I inhaled almost-sharply, reaching for his hair. Oh god. His mouth was deliciously heated and moist around me, his tongue delightfully talented. A marvellous wonder, considering he certainly had no experience with Armand on this end. I would have known about it by this point if he had. There was no way to help the sound of satisfaction from my throat as he swirled his tongue gently over the tip.

A natural talent, surely enough. Thank the gods I hadn’t killed him as my immediate instincts had said to do upon Armand’s death. The guilt he felt was enough, and I would have sacrificed this if I’d done it. This was the next-best thing when I no longer had my immortal lover. Strange that a human would suffice.

He worked on me steadily, allowing me to somehow feel the desperation emanating from him as he bobbed his head up-and-down, up-and-done without a problem. A lovely gag reflex as well, it would seem. A wholly wondrous child- in the matters of sexual contact at the very least. Sometimes, however, he made me feel like a bit of a child molester. It never took long to disregard these thoughts- he was eighteen, a legal age for me to claim him. Plenty old enough to consent, and it wasn’t as though he ever fought me whole-heartedly. The little brat wanted me as much as I wanted him.

I heard a strangled gasp from him when I reached my end in his mouth, and it didn’t surprise me in the least. If he’d hardly experienced most of what I did to him, there was no way he’d had such a thing done in his poor, untried mouth before. Devil take me.

Feeling the need to do him a kindness, I touched a hand to his shoulder and dug in a few nails. Using these as a hook of sorts, I pulled his body upwards to meet me, letting his hardness (it was about damn time) brush against me, and in that moment I was aroused all over again. “Pretty, pretty boy.” I murmured, trailing my other hand across his chest. He had at this point made me quite pleased by taking care of my pants on his own, getting them out of the way beforehand. “And so very helpful as well. I do like you, Beauty.”

Alister gave in to my tender kiss without a fuss of any kind, his body shivering under my hands stroking his hips. Such pale flesh and such a soft, gentle manner to match. I wondered for a moment what he would be like when I took him. There were those who came as unexpected once they were beneath me, either being far more easy to handle or far louder and rougher. Which was he?

It was time to find out now, wasn’t it?

I guided his hands to the buttons of my shirt, waiting patiently as he undid them one-by-one. His breath was staggered now, the wanting for me having a lovely affect on him. There were few ways left to make him mine. I would take him, and that was one. Number two was making him need me in every way, and I was very close to complete success in this way. The final way was make him love me- a thing I wasn’t even sure I wanted. He’d loved Armand, and I wanted no human attached to me that way. Though I could always force him to…

This thought I pressed away immediately. A vampire so fragile? Nonsense in every sense of the word.

He took only a short time to be finished with my shirt and as I drifted from the line of thinking I’d begun to travel down he was pressing desperately at the fabric, trying to get it around my shoulders. I sat up a little, letting him remove the irritating clothing from my body. Things could be far more interesting now that we were both entirely nude, or so I imagined. A smile lifted my lips for once, a smile just for this human. His mouth touched the junction of my neck and shoulder, teeth scraping the skin there.

“Calm down.” I whispered to him. If the boy or I rushed things here, pain would forever have an entirely new meaning to him- one even more interesting than what I had already created for the poor thing in the last few weeks. I didn’t wish that to happen. While I wished to have him screaming my name, I wanted the sounds to be those of pleasure, not of distress. Anguished cries were so very irritating after so many years of hearing them. “Do not be in such a hurry, Beauty. We have as long as we need.”

“Dammit.” The word came out choked. “I want you…Kendrick, please.”

Hm. I rather liked the sound of that word from this person. Right now, though, I wasn’t in the mood to take the time to make him say it again. He needed me, as I wished, and I - loathe as I was to admit it - needed the little brat. Almost as badly as I had needed Armand the first time. I kissed him, holding his face to mine with his hair. Even I wondered at times how he had possibly received it. I’d seen his family. It was the same with his all-too expressive amber eyes. Gods, he was delicately beautiful. So very breakable. I released him after several moments of kissing, letting his lips move hardly an inch from mine, our breaths mingling between us.

“Drink.” I whispered, cutting myself open easily on a place at the bottom of my throat. There was no need to repeat myself in a more demanding voice- he had latched onto me in the instant my nail left my body. As he drank, I let my hands traverse the pale form of the young boy. Each of them cupped his ass carefully. I allowed my nails to drag over the skin, lightly enough to not cut him open, but hard enough to make him shiver with pleasure and further desire. “However much you want.”

Whatever the result, it would not be my doing because I was allowing him to choose the amount he ingested.

When the boy had finished taking my blood, I brought his arm to my mouth and carefully cleaned away the blood of his I had caused. Much as I loved putting it there, I personally preferred to claim pure-looking people as my own. This applied to all except for Armand- he and I tore each other apart whenever we slept together. It was expected, however, considering he and I were the same in race and almost the same in power. This one… This Alister Rowan, was something completely different and desirable.

“Do you know what you’re giving me permission to do?” I inquired of him, more out of curiosity than of actual caring. By this point, he could be screaming that he changed his mind and I wouldn’t give a damn. After everything in previous nights and this particular evening especially, all I wanted was to be in the little bastard.

And he was eying me with nothing resembling hesitation- rather with pure want. There was no concern for himself involved. This was good, because considering it would be his first time, it was possible there would be blood involved if I weren’t entirely careful, and it would hurt no matter, and truly if I had my way - which I always did - he wouldn’t be on his feet for at least three or four days after this. “Yes.” Came the simple answer. I gave him a moment and he went on as I expected. “Just do it, damn you.”

Unable to help it, I laughed, and watched the chill making its way up his spine, or at the very least watched the shudder that went with it. He had to be moved, of course- I rolled him off of me and place myself atop him. There would be no use of the human object lotion, or any of their forms of lubricant, for both of these things were too disgusting and oily. I never understood how humans could bear to smear it on themselves and each other. For me, there was only saliva, a natural and useful object. One of my hands slid up his body and to his mouth, where I probed for entrance. The young one opened his mouth eagerly, swirling his tongue around them the same way he had done to my cock earlier. A wondrous memory. He’d need to do that again tonight.

Once I felt my fingers were wet enough, I took them from him and kissed him instead. Sliding the first finger into him wasn’t the hardest, nor was it the easiest. It took a moment to work my way into him with the second as well, and this time he broke our kiss to lean his head back with a sharp cry. It sounded nice to me. “One more.” I informed him under my breath. “Just one.” Not that they matched my size by any means. It would still hurt him terribly when I took him completely. Still, I added the final finger and splayed the three inside of him. Not surprising me at all (for he had done this once and he wouldn‘t be doing it again), be bit into my shoulder. At the very least, he didn’t break my skin.

After the splaying, I gave him a moment to adjust. Finally, after what felt to me like an eternity (which I had lived through at least one of by now), he leaned up a little and whispered in my ear, “Okay.” I nodded carefully and pulled the fingers mostly out before pressing them back into him. I did this once. Then I used my other hand to spread his legs as wide as I could, lift one of them over a shoulder, and it was time to press my cock, which by now far beyond hard, into his supple body.

How very accepting he was. He cried out once more as I pressed in to the hilt. His fingers grasped at the bed sheets, not helping him very much. Satin didn’t grip very well. I groaned, my own head falling back a little as his tight (gods he was so delightfully tight and the feeling of his walls grasping me…) body surrounded me. I did love fucking people for the first time. I once again allowed him a moment of adjustment- then I pulled out except for my tip and slammed back into him. It was like I could see the lightning running across his frame when I did this. The boy arched up towards me with a shout of my name. Looking between us, I could see his own cock standing straight up as I again removed myself and pressed in unbelievably far. The way he had arched pushed him further towards me.

Alister lifted his other leg on his own, wrapping it around my neck and joining it to his other one. Oh yes. He looked so beautiful, so hot… He’d been sweating all night, and now it was on him in sheets. He fucking glowed with it. I reached for him and wrapped my hand around his cock, pressing a finger against his slit. The boy jerked and moved his hands from my sheets to my hair. We moved together - me pulling out and pressing in, and him moving his body to get me into him as far as possible - for a number of minutes I’m not positive about when, with no warning at all, I pulled out and stayed out. He whimpered, dragging my face to him by some miracle of his flexibility and begged against my mouth, “Please Kendrick why’d you stop- I need you so much please please, keep going you bastard-” and he just kept talking, hardly pausing for air.

I pushed him away and laid down beside him, smiling. My cock was up still, as was his, and this pleased me. “Come here.” I said, voice nearly as ragged as his. “Come here and sit your ass down on me and move.”

He nodded, desperate for me- and this I knew well. The boy was quickly astride me, legs spread wondrously so I had a most amazing view of him. I placed my hands on his hips, listening to that first beautiful moan as he lowered himself. He needed me to steady him. And then I helped him move. I listened to him crying out for me, I listened to the shocked sob of pleasure when I returned my hand to his cock, having licked said hand and wrapping it around him tenderly but moving it harshly. This was what he needed from me. It was what I needed from him. It didn’t take him long to have a rhythm, with me rising from the bed to meet him. I watched him come that first time, pulled out, and dragged him up to suck at him eagerly. Even this brought me pleasure and it had him hard again soon, ready to have me in him again. This time I flipped him on his stomach.

The time after that I tied his hands to the bed with him facedown and myself underneath him to make it all the more entertaining.

It wasn’t until well into the following morning that I allowed him to have some rest, and even then he only had an hour because I wanted him all over again.

--

“Kendrick?”

The boy’s voice came quietly from behind me, weak, telling me he was still half-asleep. He’d been tired the entire day and I couldn’t blame him. Neither of us had left my bedroom. Rather, he had slept and I had moved from watching him to looking out the window to picking up books, throwing them each aside moments later, repeating this cycle countless times as the hours dragged themselves by as a person would drag themselves across the floor with their tongue. I considered this for a moment and pressed the thought into the back of my head as a reminder to force this fate upon some poor human one day. Bringing pain to people was one of those things that had begun to amuse me when I ran out of further methods.

“Yes?” I turned my body from the window, where I’d been watching darkness descend on the world outside. A few steps brought me to the side of my bed. It was easier to study him from this vantage point, looking down at him through always-cold eyes. “What do you want, Beauty?”

“I’m cold.” For an eighteen-year-old boy, he sometimes behaved more like a small child. Sometimes I wanted to laugh at him. He reached thin arms toward me, not moving any part of his body beneath his stomach. “And I’m a little hungry. Or thirsty. Or both.”

I shook my head with a sigh, sitting beside him and trailing a few fingers over his chest while those on my other hand stroked his hair. “How silly you are, child. If you’re so cold, why are you reaching for me rather than remaining bundled tightly in this blanket?”

Alister Rowan gave me a sheepish smile, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. “And I want you to hold me.”

The words left his mouth and I closed my eyes. How precious a being I’d gained for myself. How fragile, how tender and how very curious (perhaps intriguing would be a better word?) he was. I slid under the covers with him without reopening my eyes. “What did Armand do to you?” I inquired. The question, I could only hope he would realise, did not refer to anything physical. I knew enough about that part of the situation- that they’d had mild sexual contact only, nothing like what I’d done to him. I was far more interested in the fact that this boy - this child who had once Hunted and hated my kind as a mere matter of principle - had now begun desiring the first of those he killed.

“Huh?” He snuggled against me, fitting far too easily under my arm, pressed to my skin. “I don’t-”

“Nevermind.” I interrupted. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Perhaps the more important thing was why I found myself wanting him so. At the moment it wasn’t sexual- it was… I didn’t know what it was. A rare thing, for me to not know something. “Are you very sore?”

The boy nodded, an embarrassed redness, deeper than before, spreading all across his face. Strange, that he maintained this kind of innocence after all of the things I’d done to him. “I don’t think I can move at all.”

That was the goal. I reflected as he kept speaking.

“But I’m hungry. Please?”

I used the arm he wasn’t lying on to reach for the phone on my bedside table. This item came in handy. Humans could be useful when it came to inventions such as this. I dialled the number of the cell phone allowed to Brandt, and waited the few seconds it took him to respond.

“Yeah?” He answered dully. The Bonded man had lost his spark since Armand was gone, but he remained useful. Besides, he was a memory of the one man I may have admitted to loving (in a manner of speaking) and that was something I didn’t want to lose. Maybe it was this that caused me to keep Alister Rowan, or to be so fascinated by him.

“Beauty is hungry.” I informed him coolly. “I would be much obliged if you would deliver a tray for him to my room. He is indisposed, and even were he not, he is unable to walk right now. This does include, I’m sure you realise, a glass of someth-” My mouth closed as the boy pressed a finger beyond my lips. I shivered, immediately feeling a need to take him again. But this was a desire I pressed back. Me inside of him was the last thing he needed now. There were rare instances in which I had mercy, as it were. I cocked my head curiously.

The young one removed the digit and brushed it instead against my throat. I felt my eyes widen. My, my, my. Had he unintentionally Bonded himself? No, it couldn’t be that, or he wouldn’t be in the mood for human food so soon after. An acquired taste then? No matter the reason, it was fine with me.

During this, Brandt hadn’t said a word, and I began speaking again. “Cancel that, will you? We’ll need the food, but apparently he doesn’t wish for a drink.”

I set the phone down without waiting for him to answer. With a nimble movement, I brought the now unused hand to his soft flesh. “If you would be so kind, Beauty, I will take my breakfast before yours arrives. Following, you are welcome to drink of me once more.”

A nod touched him in a moment and I had to fight not laugh on the inside. I’d wanted him to belong to me, had I not? Unless I was much mistaken, I’d been so very successful. He needed me. Right down to the blood running through my dead-but-alive veins. Knowing he would be unable to do any moving regarding coming to me, I bent my head as he leaned his own back. My nose nuzzled against his neck and I felt as well as heard the blood in him, the heat of it rushing underneath my skin. At least his blood hadn’t yet grown cold- he’d be fine if I only fetched him another blanket. After locating my preferred spot, at the place a little below his ear. I smiled on his skin, piercing through with my fangs. The boy mewled, using the parts of his body he was able to and wrapping his arms around me. I drank deeply, long enough to sate my current appetite (even if not enough to completely destroy my lust for his sweet, all-delightful blood), a short enough time to not tire him any further or hurt him.

“You are delicious.” I let him know, an appreciative note in my voice that overpowered anything I was feeling. Alister replied to my words with another nod, another smile. “Still thirsty, my Beauty?”

“Yes.” His softness led me to a wanting that didn’t shock me in the least- I felt like hurting him. His arm… It would be so easy to snap the bone as I’d done the night I met him. The night I’d first looked on those amber eyes and wanted to break each bone in his body or worse so Armand could never love any but me. My fingers twitched on his arm as I removed it from around me. “Please don’t.”

I frowned. “Don’t what?”

“Break my arm.” A careful laugh. He knew what I was thinking. Little brat. “It hurt enough the first time. I don’t want to go through it again, if it’s all the same to you. I just want to drink…and eat…and then go back to sleep. Then I want to wake up later tonight and-” He broke off, turning his head. “May I drink now?”

“You may drink if you finish your sentence first.”

“Uhm…” The boy’s eyes looked on me in pain. Hm. Since he’d said it himself, I wouldn’t hurt him right now. The hurt in his eyes was enough for me in any case. “I want to wake up and… And I want- I can’t say it!” In his voice was a plea. This sort of thing, however, had never mattered to me. If anything it made forcing him to finish all the more attractive.

“You spent most of last night with me inside of you in some form or another.” I reminded him cruelly. “What makes saying something to me any worse than that?”

He opened his mouth as though to argue and then it fell closed as though he’d thought better of this. I smirked, leaning down to kiss his nearly-bruised lips. “Shall we continue our words then, my darling?”

“Don’t call me that.” He whispered. Smart as he was, he then continued to talk. “I want to wake up later tonight and I,” he swallowed hard, visibly. I wanted terribly to keep drinking, only there was no reason and I believed in ‘waste not, want not’. “I want you in me for a few more hours.”

“Good boy.” I chuckled, cutting into my wrist just on the vein and offering it to the boy. It felt nice to feel the blood leaving my body as he suckled cheerfully where I’d opened myself up. Both of his hands were wrapped around my skin on either side of his mouth. He wasn’t Bonded yet, I knew. Soon it would be different. If he kept drinking… I lost my train of thought as he continued to drink. Only when he stopped was I able to think clearly. His lips and tongue and teeth were now stained with blood. “How lovely.”

“Shut up. I told… I told him,” No need to question who exactly he was referring to. “plenty of times that I’m not.”

“You know,” I said smoothly, rising to my feet as a result of the knock at the door. He squeaked and pulled the blanket back up over himself, snuggling into it. He appeared to have trouble with this, being unable to move anything low on himself. When I pulled the door open, I saw Brandt standing there with a nice-sized platter filled with food. “If you don’t mind,” I said with a smile, “Beauty could also use another blanket or two.”

“Fuck you.” He muttered. He seemed to blame me for his loss. As I told the precious in my bed so many times, it was in no way me. Poor things. Regardless of his words, I knew Brandt would retrieve what I asked.

“I’m afraid I’m far too busy with the Beauty right now.” I called after him down the hallway, then closing the door.

“Kendrick?” Alister’s voice rang out in my ears again.

I turned with a question on my lips. “Yes, my Beauty?”

“Come back?”

I nodded. “Yes.” With that, I approached him. Sliding back under the cover, I pulled him to me easily and rubbed my nose against his cheek. “You know what you’re doing?”

There was no answer. In other words, a yes. He knew very well.

I laughed, wondering how much I could get away with hurting him for the rest of eternity- he never put up much of a fight, after all.

Well then… That’s at least one oneshot down. I mean, it wasn’t the first request, but… For some reason I was urged to write it really fast. In any case, this is the request (from Angelhacker, and in the exact words):

‘Hm…who do I want… Well, I sort of have had this slight…fetish, you could say since the last chapter that you updated. For some reason, I thought, wow, they would really make a rather interesting couple with or without all the violence the other one likes to do. XD

Would you mind if you do one where the pairing is Alister X Kendrick? That last chapter has made my mind sort of go into shock when the whole Alister cowering underneath him. Now that was just…yeah. I need more.

I was wondering if he could go along with the song Hellfire from Hunchback of Notre Dame then possibly Favourite Drug from Porcelain and the Tramps. If there are any other songs like those that you know, then you can throw them in. Hopefully I explained it somewhat. Mostly this is free range for you.

However, could it please be in Kendrick’s point of view? That would be very interesting to see. And could there be some torture? Just pain. He doesn’t have to go too drastic and break Alister’s arm or something. That Favourite Drug might be a hard one to write about with these two. If you can’t think of anything to include the song, sort of, then you can throw it out.’

So… First thought: Alister and Kendrick- for cereal? Second thought: Hang on- I have the power to create characters that people end up with fetishes for. Amazing! -pause for ego trip- And then I moved on to: Sonuvabitch- Kendrick’s point of view? Do I even want to know what goes on in his head?

It wasn’t as sick as I expected, to be honest.

So, moving on…The songs. I had to look them both up. I’ve seen Hunchback of course, but not in a really long time, and the only song I remembered was ‘God Help the Outcasts’ so it was research time. And I was like ‘all right’. As for the other one, I expected it to be easier. Of course, I didn’t insert lyrics thanks to those things called ‘copyright laws’ rather, I just tried to get the words across in the way I wrote this thing. Good job- yes or no?

The other thing I really want to bring up is, uhm… This is my first try at a real sex scene. I mean, I’ve read a million, but writing them? Not so much. My stories usually die before I get there, or I do a fade-out. How’d I do, though? My biggest question, really, is what terms to use: like, what’s better- butt, buttocks, or ass? I obviously went with the third, because to me, after a great lot of consideration, it made the most sense. And the best word to refer to the male genitals? To be honest, the slang terms for said area (like d--- or c---) disgust me. I refuse to say them. Writing them every so often is all right, but really…? Eew, thanks much. Yet I’m sure you can tell I prefer the one starting with a ’c’ when I need it. It’s the same with what I feel are horrible names for the female genitals: I refuse to say c--- or p----. Personal opinions, but what are yours? Also on this topic, this oneshot is about 6200 words long. Around 4400 words of it makes up the sex scene. That’s what came out without me thinking of what I was writing. Tells you something, doesn’t it? (Totally different message than the fact that I got a 3-hole punch for Christmas. …Don’t ask.)

Let’s see… For the moment, all I have to say is I hope you had good Christmases, or whatever you may celebrate.

And am I the only one who thinks it’s weird that my writing comes out the best when I’m in Zombie Mode (as in 90% asleep)? Plus, I’m watching Darkwing Duck. I haven’t quite outgrown my childhood. I happen to think that if I can’t marry Darkwing, he and Negaduck would make a great couple.

Well…I’m going to leave now because I’m tired.

Buncha oneshots left to go…I’ll get to them.

Bye!