There is no deliberation from him now; Alastor's smile is manic as he takes her hand and seals their deal. Their skin meets with a thunderclap, and the solid strength of Alastor's hand in hers is the only thing that keeps her on her feet as the heavy air suddenly shifts around them. It swirls like a cyclone, dropping the air's humidity against her skin as the cold flash of magic collides with their heat; Clover had seen the theatrics of Alastor's deal-making before, but this? This was something new. The ghastly green she'd come to associate with Alastor's voodoo swirled with a deep magenta, bleeding together between them into the antiqued sepia of old photographs and painting his hallway with watercolor chaos. Clover's question was swept by the wind, so she looked to Alastor instead, hoping to communicate with a simple furrow of her brow; The glistening curiosity in his eyes told her everything she needed to know- This was not his doing.

Beneath it all she can feel the buzz of power that runs between them; It's electricity in her veins, static that consumes her soul as they come together in perfect synergy. Clover's eyes can't move fast enough, her head twisting to watch the shadowed shapes that wind around their feet and turning to take in the blurring bokeh backdrop before looking to him again as palms shift to twist their fingers together.

And Alastor is captivated by her.

He'd cursed the spectacles that inhibited his view of her gaze, but even through their lenses, he'd been able to catch the polychromatic fractals that had filled her eyes upon their deal's completion. Clover glows with a brilliance that could outshine the sun itself, lit from within as she basks in the glory of her own, unrealized power; If only her camera could capture her like this, then perhaps she would see how darling- how divine, she appeared without the saboteur of her subconscious distorting her self-image. But, for once in Alastor's life, he'd found himself at an absolute loss for words, gawking at her like some simpleton on the street, unable to move forward without her guidance despite the desperate need to devour her that dripped from his tongue.

"Well?"

Clover's voice squeaked against the tightness in her chest; She wasn't quite sure what to make of the intensity he looked at her with now, but it spread scarlet across her skin, tinting her chest pink and making the tips of her ears burn.

"I…must admit I don't know what to do next."

A sharp tug of his arm sent him stumbling into her, and Clover's embarrassment crumbled beneath her adoration.

"Oh, yes you do. You touch me all the time," The words are soft, sweet beside the teasing lilt that bristles up his spine. "You've been an awful tease since the moment I met you,"

Her fingers curl against the skin of his wrist, gently tugging him to press his palms against the swell of her hip before she leads the other to the haphazard fastening of her cardigan. His fingers slip the buttons from their holes with encouragement, each tiny press of her fingertips into his knuckles guiding him down until it hangs open from her shoulders; She can almost feel the threads snap beneath the tension of his claws as they catch in its weave.

"Just- Touch me honestly, I'll tell you if it's ever too much. But I need you to show me that you want me- To take the first step," They're impossibly close, yet he feels a thousand miles away- Staring down at where his hand had slipped beneath her sweater to slide against the silk of her nightgown like it did not belong to him. Clover's fingers find his chin, catching it between them as she tip-toes up to meet his lips; The kiss is impossibly innocent yet it elicits a sinful sigh from them both, but the sound Alastor makes when she pulls away is so sweet she nearly sobs. "Alastor, please,"

Those dark eyes searched her for a moment, the thin ring of crimson around dilated pupils catching the low light of his hallway. They drift lower to cast their glow across the bare expanse of her neck, leaving them to linger on the rapid rise and fall of her chest as they cloud over with desire. Clover can't bring herself to look away, or to move at all for that matter, out of fear that she'd startle him- Or that he would stop. The spotlight had never been home to her, but she'd gladly spend eternity beneath the flickering warmth of Alastor's eyes, as long as he looked at her like that for the rest of her days; Like she was the center of the earth, the sweetest fruit, the brightest star- Like he wanted to dig in his teeth and eat her whole, licking her from his fingers to savor every drop.

Another shaking breath presses the swell of her breast against him, his heat bleeding through the thin fabric to burn the bare skin beneath. Her stomach twists at the shudder the contact seems to send through him, the purring static that lays heavy against them sinking into her core as she is flooded with fire.

When those eyes snap back to hers, everything changes.

The heavy wood of the door rattles against her back as she's pushed against it, knocking the air from her lungs as the cold shock of its surface meets her shoulders. It's a sharp contradiction to the hand that cradles her head, cushioning the blow before warm fingers trail down her neck to splay across her sternum. Where there is push comes pull as Alastor's arm encircles her waist, tugging her against him as his knee slots between her thighs. The sounds that spilled from her lips are swallowed as Alastor's crash into hers with a messy fervor she hadn't been prepared for; She'd expected to ease him into such actions, yet here he was, pushing her against doors and kissing her like she'd wanted him to for months.

For a moment they simply savor each other, reveling in the softness of lips and the way their bodies slot together like lock and key; Then Clover shifts her weight, falling from her toes to sink into him, and the brittle links of decorum shatter.

Deft fingers drop from her throat to hook beneath her knee, lifting her from the floor with an ease that swoops into her stomach as Alastor hitches her legs around him and presses impossibly closer; Legs cling to the thin curve of his waist as the ground disappears beneath her feet, his hands gripping into the backs of her thighs to crush her against him and leaving little room for breath in between as his lips caress hers. Alastor huffs as her fingers slide upwards, leaving his shoulder to travel the length of his neck before they curl around his jaw, tilting his head just enough to further deepen their kiss, and Clover can't help the soft whine that leaves her throat as their shifting draws attention to the solid form pressing heavily into the crease of her thigh.

Alastor pulls her hand from his skin, pinning it above her head with surprising gentleness; Too much, not enough is the growling message that he sends as teeth nip at her lips, threatening to tear through the swollen petals that part with a needy sigh. Desire drugs the senses as they press closer, her hips rocking slowly into his of their own accord as his mouth descends. Clover clings to him the best she can,, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and holding on to the shreds of sanity that unravel beneath the teeth that ghost across her throat- The rumbling that vibrates against her as she tilts her head back to offer more tender skin to him is met with a shuddering sigh as he grips into her harder, holding her still to experimentally mouth at her pulse.

It's becoming unbearably warm between them; Clover's skin screams with every brush of clothing, the thin fabric that separates them her greatest enemy, and as happy as she is to let Alastor press soft kisses along her throat into the early hours of the morning, there are far more satisfying sensations she longs to experience.

Clover's fingers find Alastor's hair again and tug, drawing him up to look at her with a breathless groan that stalls the question in her throat and pushes her to arch further into him. His eyes flutter, dark and begging as he waits for her to speak, panting into the space between them- If he is beautiful now, imagine how he'll look by the end of this. Clover can't help herself, she leans in to catch him in another bruising kiss and only pulls away once she's sated enough to think.

"Did you ever remember where you've put your bedroom?" She's sure he can feel her smile against him as she teases, her lips brushing against his before she pulls back just enough to watch his eyes flicker with realization.

Alastor blinks, his brow furrowing as he fights to comprehend her question before his shoulders shake with a dark chuckle that slips sinfully down her spine. A crooked, deadly smile cracks across his face before the dim hallway is extinguished with a swell of shadows and the ground drops from beneath them; Clover squeaks as her back meets the cool silk of sheets and Alastor's laughter peels her eyes open from where they'd been squeezed shut in surprise.

It's so hard to pay attention to anything else in the room when he is a vision tucked between her thighs, looking down at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on, but she manages.

What little Clover gleams before he's on her again is exactly what she would expect from him; A canopy of carved wood above them, lit dimly by a smoldering fire, and the reddest of sheets pooling beneath his knees. Colors blur together, crushed by the vividness of his smile as Alastor looms over her, pinning his prey to catch her in another kiss. Clover decides to take a chance- She catches his lip between her teeth, gently, but just enough that it stutters his breath before the swipe of her tongue after them brings him crashing down onto her. She can taste the faintest of whiskey on his tongue, the slightest metallic of blood- It's as addicting as the feeling of his fingers biting into her wrist or the heady musk that fills the air, and Clover chases after him as he pulls back to return to his torturous exploration of her throat. The tiniest "tsk" of his teeth is her only warning before he captures the prying fingers that tug at the collar of his shirt and pins them to the bed.

Teeth graze the soft roundness of her jaw as her head falls back, and she can feel the hesitation that keeps him from biting down. Alastor's mouth waters at the sight of her, breathing deep the sweet scent of her arousal- He's unable to himself from licking along her pulse, hoping the smallest taste would be enough to hold back the urge to sink his teeth into her throat, but the arch of her spine only makes him crave more. The slightest graze of sharp teeth brings forth blood, and Alastor's attempts to apologize are hushed.

"It's okay, I trust you-"

Clover had barely time to finish before his lips seal over the scrape of teeth, soothing the slight sting with his tongue as he laps the blood from her skin. It spills from her veins in torrents, pushed by her pounding pulse as she hitches her legs around his hips, pulling him down into her with the hope that it would somewhat satisfy the pooling heat in her core. Clover's body is a live wire beneath him, thrumming with static as his mouth finds the tender spot set above her collarbone- Every nerve aches for his touch, the tension of her spine turning near painful as she feels the weight of his arousal against her thigh. Her need for intimacy began to outweigh the thrill of being utterly at his disposal, Clover tugging gently at the cage his claws had formed around her wrists.

"Alastor-"

His grip on her wrists released in an instant, and the rapid rhythm of her heart skipped at how suddenly he'd reacted to her plea. Her moment of stunned silence at Alastor's ability to hold onto enough restraint in his current state seemed to speak unease, his weight lifting from her as he moved to back away. Any apology he'd prepared to give her died before it could leave his lips, his already frantically shifting radio squealing with feedback as she shifted a hand downward just enough to tangle her fingers with his before he could pull away. All it took was a small tug to put his weight back onto her again, Clover pinned by the hand she now held while the other stroked the softened corner of his smile. Alastor blinked at her for a moment, eyes flicking rapidly between her face and their intertwined fingers-

Then the room erupted into song.

The radio station shuddered with static as his ears shot upward, and Clover placed a gentle, giggling kiss on the tip of his nose while she waited for him to gather himself. The love song's volume adjusted, slowly lowering into soft background noise while he sputtered at her affections, and Clover's ears lifted into the noise; Her blush darkened as a thought struck her like lightning.

"...Al do you- Can you broadcast without a microphone?"

He blinked, his head tilting into her palm so adorably she almost abandoned her question to toss him underneath her, but the itching curiosity in the back of her skull begged for answers. Clover had never discerned how much control he had over his radio, and the thought that someone- that everyone- might hear more than either of them were willing to share churned her stomach with an embarrassment that had to be resolved before they continued.

"You were listening again, weren't you?"

Alastor sat back on his knees, gripping whatever part of her he could to keep himself grounded enough to bite back the beast long enough to address her concerns.

"Every night," She replied, watching as he traced the hem of her nightdress before anxiousness chased curious fingers away. "I couldn't tell if you knew you were on air or not."

"I was in the studio, it helps to distract from-" His throat bobs in his pause, and Clover's gaze noticeably drops to the straining front of his trousers. "That."

The tiny crack to his voice has her tucking her legs beneath her and pulling herself up to level with him, Clover's hand hovering at his hip as he clears his throat and continues.

"But! Don't fret, little doe. This area is a dead zone, you see-"

Clover smiled at the tiny "hmph!" "he made as she cut him off with another kiss, satisfied that such wonderful sounds were hers alone to hear. Hands were on her again as Alastor melted into her, slipping her sweater from her shoulders with surprising ease, and Clover was suddenly struck by the fact that they were both still dressed despite heat that blossomed between them. Alastor had barely made a move to rid himself of his clothing, perhaps too distracted by his exploration of her skin or- The next option was so absurd, so simple, that it had to be true.

Alastor was being shy.

Breath catches in his throat as her lips leave his to press heavy kisses to the curve of his jaw, Clover's mouth mirroring the meandering path he'd carved into her skin until the collar of his shirt stops her short. She shivers as hands cover the exposed flesh of her shoulders, Alastor panting against her temple as he timidly traces the length of her spine down to the lace of her shift, his fingers following along its edging until he finds the curving dip of her shoulder blade. Every ghosting touch tightens in her stomach until the pounding pulse beneath her lips isn't enough, and Clover pulls back with a stuttering question that stalls his touch.

"Can I- You don't have to but- Or do you want to-" A gentle kiss hushes her, and the soft nuzzling of his nose against hers calms her enough for her to properly speak. "Can I undress you?"

Another kiss, another contagious smile as Alastor took his time to formulate an answer. When they part his eyes land on the crooked glasses that cling to her nose, and they fall into a fit of giggles as he gently takes them from her and sets them safely aside; But when their laughter dies his smile warbles all over again. She could feel the hesitance in him, buzzing just beneath the surface alongside that unyielding tension that draws his stomach taught beneath her palms. His fingers retrace their steps, following the fragile, fraying edges of her nightgown- It sends shivers down her spine, the silent begging for permission he presses into her skin as their foreheads bump together and Alastor swallows around the heart that had been clawing its way into his throat.

"Clover, I- I know you did not know this before, but by enacting this new deal you've changed the parameters of the one before it."

"I don't understand."

"What I mean is, that you are free to touch me, and-" His hands slide from her skin, and Alastor's ears twitch forward at the breathy whimper that escapes her lips at the simple sight of him sliding his suspenders from his shoulders. "I beg of you to do so to your heart's content."

Clover surges forward with no plan in mind, shaking fingers slipping around the curve of his jaw and tilting his head back with a press of her thumb so she can pepper searing kisses across his throat. When she fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, he comes to her aid, flicking them open with his claws while she tugs impatiently at its hem. It falls open around her wrists, Clover's hands hovering over the sharp divots of his hips before pushing the sleeves down sharp shoulders and using the precious seconds it takes him to tug it off entirely to take in the sight of his skin.

There is not a word in the English language with enough weight to describe what is laid bare before her, knocking the air from her lungs as her fingers splay across his chest to feel the pounding of his heart beneath her palm- If there is, then she's too far gone to recall it.

He shudders as she traces the white scars that marr muted skin, lingering on the heavy texturing that collects just below his ribcage before wandering the tensile muscles of his arms. Those tender fingers trace the ridges raised into his skin, marveling at their pattern; Her expression is a profound mixture of sorrow and sensuality as she drinks him in, staring deep into his soul with those damned eyes of hers. Alastor's claws fist into her slip- Begging to rip it from her, tear it to shreds and toss her back onto his bed to worship at the altar of her body.

It all became too much for him when she pressed a gentle kiss against the jagged scar across his chest, her stuttering breath as he slipped his hands beneath her dress and pulled her into him dragging a needy groan from his gut that she happily swallowed with a gnashing of teeth. Their threat caught on her lips, and she returned the favor, slipping her tongue past their razor's edge to taste the warm heat of his mouth, and Clover notes the thick flavor of tobacco buried beneath sharp whiskey and spice. It was painful to part once she'd had the feeling of his skin against her, but the desperate grip Alastor had on her hips as he pushed her away to pull her dress over her head gave her no room for hesitancy. Clover's fingers find the front of his pants to distract from the chill of embarrassment that spreads over her chest, its normal hot flash not enough to hold its own against the desire that paints her skin pink. Alastor all but freezes at her touch, the heaving of his chest as he struggles to breathe the only movement he dares to make as she traces the line of fur leading down the concave of his stomach. Even through the layered lining of dark fabric, she can feel the heat of his arousal burning into her knuckles, straining heavily against the front of his trousers as she unfastens them with surprising courage.

Their lips find each other again in a fresh swell of static, and Clover's grip falters as he wraps an arm around her and hauls her up his chest; The radio echoes with laughter at her surprised squeak as he all but tosses her into his bed. Her head sinks into his pillows as they fall together, limbs tangling in a mess atop silken sheets- Everything smells like him, wrapping Clover in that addictive smell of spice and musk that stops rational thought in its tracks. The sound of his shoes hitting the floor sends a spark up her spine, and she almost laughs that that is what finally sealed the reality of what they were doing in her mind- As if the residual tingling magic of their deal, or the heaviness of Alastor between her thighs wasn't enough.

Alastor tucks his thumbs beneath the waistband of her underwear and tugs them over her hips so slowly she wants to scream. They stick to her core as he pulls them away, and if Clover was of a different mind it might have been unpleasant- Then he whimpers and all she can feel is the weight of his eyes lingering between her legs. Alastor's radio squeals it's enthusiasm and his eyes fall closed, hoping to seal the image of her- wet and open for him, begging to be bred- into his mind forever, and Clover almost whines as they are plunged into darkness with a sizzle of hot coals; But then his eyes flutter open and his hands lay reverently against the soft swell of her stomach, and she decides to forgive him for robbing her of well-lit visual stimulation- For now.

Alastor can see every breath that raises her chest, the feeble illumination his eyes provide bouncing off the paleness of her skin as he looks upon her. The burn of her thighs as they press into his skin bleeds into the heat that gathers in his gut, pillowing around the harsh points of his hips- Yes, she will surely bruise if he has his way with her- but he does his best to keep himself just out of reach, resisting the urge to shamelessly rut against her in favor of further savoring the softness of her lips. His hands cover her breasts in entirety, and Alastor marvels at how easily she is molded with gentle kneading as she arches into his palms; The flesh beneath his fingers divots under his embrace, begging him to press deeper, to grip harder- There is no inch of her skin he does not want to ravish, even if the thought of delving between her thighs sets a tremor into his hands and stutters his rapidly beating heart. She had been right, to simply press against her was not enough; He craved to drown in her very soul, to burrow deep beneath her skin and stay there until the seven rings and all that lay beyond it collapsed upon them to meet his demise within her.

Her hips cant up into his with a frustrated whine that weaves itself through the notches of his spine, and her fingers follow after it. They trace the curve of his back, her tiny claws scraping his skin as he drops his head to press heated kisses into the valley between her breasts. An experimental brush of lips stalls her hands as she trembles beneath him, and the graceful arch of her back as he drags the flat of his tongue over pale pink peaks has him purring against her skin. Idle hands find new confidence, Clover's touch lingering on the patch of fur at the base of his spine before hooking her fingers into his waistband and shimmying his remaining clothing over his hips. His undergarments catch for a second, dragging across hypersensitive skin in a way that has Alastor hissing through his teeth before his aching length is released from its confines.

Clover can feel him holding back, reeling his pelvis away from her as his ears flick against her jaw. An urge strikes her, pushing her palms to slide up the arms that brace around her and scrape her nails against his scalp; Her heart soars when he leans back into her touch, but then she wraps her hands around the base of his antlers and tugs him back into a kiss with an impatience that startles. Alastor swoons into her, hips finally dropping back into hers with a groan.

Kissing her is the only thing keeping Alastor's mind intact, holding the beast back from mauling her with its debauchery- And she is doing everything in her power to break him. The ferocity of her kiss as she clings to him, the shiver that runs down her spine as her breasts press against his chest- The desperate whine she makes when his arousal falls heavily against her stomach, greedily swallowed by him as his tongue finds the metallic sting of blood lingering on her lips.

Hips shift beneath him, Clover trapping him between her thighs when she finally finds the angle that grants her the feeling of his length sliding against her, spreading her open for him and allowing him to feel the effect he had. Her flush burns so deeply it threatens to stain her forever- She is absolutely dripping between them, and every grind of his hips against hers coats him in it. Alastor is mindless as he allows himself to rut against her, already drunk off this small taste of her soft, slick heat. Every drag of his cock against her catches on that swollen bundle of nerves, sending pulses of that unbearable warmth across her skin but doing little for the emptiness that tightens her stomach- Patience has no place here, not now.

"Alastor-"

His eyes glimmer with the final remnants of his hesitance, and Clover wills her shaking hands to work for just a moment longer. It's impossible to see between them, the swell of her stomach pressed flush against his fevered skin, so her fingers follow the ridges of his ribcage and trace the crease of his thigh downward- Alastor jerks into her palm as her fingers find him, nearly slipping from her fingers as fresh arousal leaks in heavy rivets down his length at her touch.

"Fuck-"

The choked groan he gives in response to her cracking curse is so raw that it's criminal, and Clover can't help herself; Her fingers wrap around his length, caressing with a gentle squeeze that stalls his breath. Thank god she'd touched herself earlier, Clover snorts to herself as she nuzzles into the crook of his neck- Whether or not he would survive preparing her himself is a mystery for another time. It's a struggle to encircle him, her claws barely coming together as she strokes him shallowly; Clover feels herself clench around nothing as he thrusts weakly into her fist, his stomach taut against her forearm as he fights to hold back. Touching isn't enough, she wants to see him like this, vulnerable and weeping with arousal. Would he be the same inky black there, or perhaps a brilliant scarlet, eternally flushed- There would be time for that later, she would make sure of it; The Devil himself couldn't keep her from worshiping this beautiful mess of a man now that she had him in her grasp. Curious hands slide lower, and her throat goes dry at the swelling that fills her palm as she reaches the base of him. Alastor snarls in response, the cage of his arms trembling around her, and Clover's voice is laced with fondness as she bumps her nose underneath his jaw.

"Ready?" His breath is hot against her neck, and even though she is sure he's nodding against her by the way her hair ruffles, she needs more. Alastor's eyes flutter as she pulls him to look at her, their lids laying heavily over glassy irises. "Are you sure-"

"Yes."

Clover swallows his desperation with a tender kiss, soothing the furrow of his brow with the same treatment before cradling his cheek with firm fingers; She won't allow him to hide from her, not when she was laid bare beneath him, body and soul. Watching Alastor fall to pieces was something she would never be able to experience for the first time again, and he would not take that from her- She wanted to watch his face as he sank into her, to see what wonderful expressions would grace his features as he lost himself in her body.

Barely a breath passes between them as she guides him to her, until hers hitches with need when she feels the blunt head of his cock rest shallowly against her; It takes every ounce of Alastor's remaining control to not bury himself into her then and there, but he refuses to allow his selfishness to spoil the significance of this moment. Her fingers find his hip, the slick that coats them surely staining his trousers as she grips into the fabric and pulls, giving him permission to enter as her thighs fall open to welcome him between them.

He sinks into her slowly, easing in inch by inch until her palm presses into his side with a whimper that stills him inside of her. Alastor's choked groan stutters her heart, reverberating from his radio to fill her senses with its trembling timbre. Even with the minor preparation of her earlier activities and the ungodly amount of lubrication created between them, there's the dullest of stings as he stretches her open, throbbing beneath the ache of yearning that beckons him deeper. Clover's body sings in spite of it: She feels so full, so complete, she nearly sobs, fighting back tears of gratification before they can distort the breathtaking display that hovers over her- A portrait of debauchery, painted in brilliant acrylic on the finest of canvases, just for her.

The flush of his skin is vibrant, spreading in scarlet patches down his neck- His throat bobs as he swallows back another whine, but it transmits all the same, colliding with the static curtaining them with a jittering pitch that lays ears flat between his antlers. Alastor is a perfect depiction of immortal pleasure, from the artful furrow of his brow to the half-lidded gaze that struggles to remain focused on her, all frozen amid ecstasy while he awaits her approval. His pupils are blown wide, drawing in every detail and lit from within with glowing adoration as he looks down at her, as enamored with her expression as she is with his. Heavy breath passes between parted lips, her expression drawn in an enchanting display of unearthly need- It is already too much, yet they both yearn for so much more.

"Alastor-" His name dissolves into a helpless gasp as he twitches within her, her plea turning ragged against his lips. "Move."

Breathlessly he kisses her, hiding his quiet whimper in the sharpness of teeth that tug at her lips. He bows under the weight of desire, unable to produce even a single coherent thought as he loses himself to the sensation of her- Hellfire was no comparison to the sweet heat of her cunt clenching around him, melting the lingering hesitation that locked his limbs in place. The sweet sound of her voice is yet another note to the tactile symphony composed by their carnality, the soft plucking of strings atop the drumming of his heart. Any regret he might have felt at the loss of her warmth clutching against his cock is lost to the delicious friction between them as he moves, and it's only the hand that has dropped to the curving juncture of his thigh that keeps him from slamming back into her with reckless abandon- But he is gifted with the most sinful of sounds as her head falls back against his pillows in return.

Alastor is far more to handle than what she'd experienced before, filling her completely and leaving no room for thought as he drags himself from her, but unlike her other unfortunate partnerings his motions did not feel like an unwelcome intrusion she withstood for the benefit of his pleasure; It simply felt right, erasing every dismal memory of intimacy that haunted her corrupted subconscious as he completes her, melting them together in a mess of muttered curses and desperate kisses. They are of one mind, coming together in harmony and chasing each other's movements as if it were nothing more than a dance; Her fingers curl around the back of his neck as he finds his rhythm and hooks her legs around him, palms pressing into her waist as he takes the lead. His pace is purposeful, shifting tempo until he finds the one that makes her sing, stumbling with every flutter of her walls around him with a frustrated huff that makes her chest feel light in the darkest of ways.

She wanted nothing more than to tell him that she loved him now, but she knew it would be too much. Alastor, for all of his brutal positivity and theater, was a brittle man when it came to things such as this. Pulled taught like a thread ready to be cut, frayed around the edges but exactly the shade of crimson that could seamlessly mend her aching heart- No, love had to wait, it would be too much for either of them to bear at this moment. Now she would cherish what she had, cradle him while he still allowed it, indulge in this raw part of Alastor that he could never speak the name of himself. His vulnerability felt as intimate as the sound of his skin meeting hers and the broken whispers of her name, and she gave him everything in return, letting him tear her apart with graceful ease and trusting him to put her back together again once they returned to reality-No, wrong again. This was their reality now, it was foolish to further convince herself it was just a dream; The weight of Alastor against her, inside of her, was too solid to ignore.

Clover bit into the soft skin at the back of her hand to make sure, muffing an exceptional whine as Alastor shifted their position, sitting back on his heels just long enough to haul her towards him and splay her open across his lap before pressing into her once again. The grip that burned into her skin was a better reminder of how real he was, Alastor squeezing a gentle threat as he pinned the offending hand beside her head.

"I want to hear you, little doe. Please, do not make me ask again."

The thread grew thinner as Alastor held onto it for dear life, his voice a heavy mess of rough radio static and Creole cadence that twisted the knot in her stomach tighter. He was still clinging to tattered strings, bearing all of his weight onto them to keep himself from truly tearing- And she was hell-bent on watching him unravel.

"I won't hold back if you won't."

"Darling-"

"Alastor, please, I need more-" Clover wishes she could have felt the full force of the tremor that went through him at her words, but her begging doesn't stop there. "I need you to- Breed me, break me, whatever you want, I'm yours to-"

Her plea shifts into a squeal as Alastor's grip tightens and pulls her down onto him with a growl, his hips flush to hers save from the swelling knot that rests against her sensitive skin. Claws catch the creases of her hips, dragging her forward until her spine sinks into silk and her thighs press into the squishing skin of her stomach, holding her completely prone beneath him as he begins a new, nearly punishing pace.

"You beautiful, greedy little thing."

Alastor's voice fills her ears, rough with feral feedback as he intertwines their fingers. The slick sounds of sex and the stringing stickiness of their combined fluids clinging to their skin would have disgusted them both under more proper parameters, but now neither of them can get enough of it- Embarrassment strikes them all the same, but the intoxicating feeling of intimacy softens the blow.

"What's mine is yours-" Even his voice seems to bury itself inside of her, tearing her tender sentimentality with its desperate edge as he grips the headboard above her. "There is nothing I wouldn't give to you."

The smile that beams down at her is feral, black gums peeking out from beneath swollen lips as sin drips from his tongue.

"My sweet little doe,"

Every breath became his, a blasphemous prayer of his name, her only thought as the world closed in around them- Alastor, Alastor, Alastor, he became the center of her universe, the only thing that mattered, the only thing that had ever mattered. Clover happily drowned in him; She was too far under the surface to already, she'd let him consume her with his smile and twist his claws around her heart since the moment they'd met. Every push and pull of them together knocked another cry from her throat, another gasping call of his name with every thrust- Alastor, Alastor, Alastor, mixed with the whining static that came from him, Alastor's voice a mess of feedback and radio amplification that echoed off the high walls and sent vibrations across her skin. Her legs trembled, electricity running through her veins with every drag of his cock out of her, sparking with every kiss she pressed against his fevered skin and feeding fire that burned in the bottom of her stomach.

The sting of blood coats her tongue as he presses her knees high, burying deeper inside of her to curve against the cluster of soft tissue that blurs her vision with every thrust; Her teeth dig into his shoulder as she screams, overwhelmed by the fresh onslaught of sensation, every nerve alight with white-hot euphoria as he slams deep and stays there. Ruthlessly he ruts against her, his knot grinding against her oversensitive clit as he threads his fingers into her hair and drags her teeth from his skin- The warmth that spreads across her scalp thins the fog of lust, and Clover finds the strength to open her eyes as Alastor withdraws from another ravenous kiss.

"Perfect." He whispers, his lips slick with the same stark black blood that weeps from her bite. "You're absolutely perfect."

The praise knocks into her stomach, her breath leaving her in a whimper that narrows his pupils to sharp points; His grinding grows harsher, pulling pitiful, pleading noises from her with every movement. There's barely room to move as he draws out of her, her cunt clenching to him desperately as he presses impossibly deeper. She was so close he could feel it, teetering on the edge, held there as he drew out what little stamina remained to stay like this just a moment longer; One more cry of his name, one last look at those adoring eyes that somehow seemed so much sweeter when darkened with desire. His end creeps over the horizon, growing closer in great leaps as his name falls like rain from her lips and washes across his heart, breathing life into the withered roots that reach out to her.

Clover is helplessly bent beneath him, pinned open with the weight of his body as he shifts position- Yet as she curls into the embrace he winds around her shoulders, she is triumphant. Melting chocolate meets rose as her eyes flutter at the gentle kiss he gives her, humming against them in a pleased, exhausted manner that has him licking her lips clean of the ichor that stains her skin and delving deeper inside.

Another nick against swollen lips tightens her around him, and Alastor drinks down the flavor of her ambrosial blood as it mixes with his own with a groan that rattles the room. Her hands grip into flesh, leaving dark tracks in their wake as her claws rake down his back and slip between them with desperate discoordination. Their movement draws his gaze, his head dropping to press the damp skin of their temples together as he arches into where her touch clings to his neck. The sight of her fingers spreading herself open for him is obscene, any decent man would turn his head from such a display, and Alastor watches hungrily on, unable to look away- Not until fingertips press into the puffing nerves set above her sex and she tenses in his arms, writhing against his strength to pull him deeper- harder, faster- into her with a choking cry of his name that dissolves into blissful begging as he answers her call with sharp thrust.

Darkness swims in the corners of her vision, letterboxing her sight with shadows until the only thing she can see is him. Her eyelids grow heavy as she nears her release, but she is unwilling to let this moment fade to black. Every fluttering blink shifts his image; Muted skin shifts in temperature, turning warm with the flush of exertion to paint him a ruddy red before it melts into golden rays of sunset across sharp cheekbones, and the red of his hair curls coarse and dark where it sticks to damp skin. Her fingers tenderly thread through his bangs, pushing it back from his face so she can better see him.

The utter, depraved devotion in Alastor's eyes is what sends her tumbling over the edge.

Static overwhelmed the choking cry that was ripped from her throat, the pressure building inside of her finally breaking the surface with hot torrents of rapture that ripple across her skin. Her pulse races, every beat coming closer together until it seems to vibrate a frequency that his radio tunes itself into. Everything is heightened sensation; The slick sound of sex as he pounds into her, the head of his cock dragging against clenching walls, the blossoming pain that spreads from her shoulder where his teeth had slipped seamlessly into her skin as her orgasm washes over her in waves, pulling her deeper until she drowns in him, -It's heaven, darkness buried a thousand meters deep, her body rocked with desperate cries as he fucks her through it all.

Maybe it's his name she screams, or a prayer a higher power she holds no faith in as she holds onto him for dear life, arching into him until every inch of skin finds sanctuary in his, all she knows is that its edge catches in her throat as his palm presses flat against her spine and holds her close as his movements falter. A final thrust seats him fully inside of her, stretching her to her limits with a synchronous groan as her walls clench around him, pulling him impossibly deeper into her silken heat. Her pulse throbs beneath her fingertips, every uncoordinated rock of his hips into hers pressing them harder against her clit until another orgasm rips her at the seams with a shaking sob.

Praise pours from Alastor like wine, dripping down her throat to intoxicate her with viscous gratification as he shamelessly ruts against her. Alastor finds his end with a wounded groan and a broken murmur of her name; Both are lost in the squeal of feedback that joins the relentless static, the sounds merging into an unearthly wail that rattles his teeth before it cuts to deafening dead-air. The tension that had tormented him snaps like brittle tinder, smoldering up his spine as he fills her and spreading fire to his fingertips. Alastor collapses into her with a ragged groan as he spills his final drop, weakly throbbing within when a tender lap of his tongue over her still weeping wound sends a tremble through her thighs. Neither of them knows where one begins and the other ends, what is left of their tattered edges knitting together until they are but a single, damned soul spread bare across scarlet sheets.

For perhaps the first time in a century Alastor feels truly at ease now that he is surrounded by the sweet scent of summer fruit and the softness of her skin, his muscles liquid as he lays against her.

Beneath him, Clover can barely bring herself to move; The weight of Alastor's body is the first thing she feels as she floats back down to earth, and she welcomes it with open arms. The whimper that escapes her lips as she shifts her legs to lay tangled with his lifts his head, and Alastor's thumbs press gently into her skin to chase away the twinge of soreness that has already begun to tighten her joints. He presses a lazy smile against her lips, murmuring a quiet question into their kiss as his eyes strain to stay open long enough for her answer.

"Are you alright?"

Her nod turns into a nuzzle of noses, her eyes tilting up at the corners as she wraps him in her arms with a muffled affirmative buried into the crook of his neck. Alastor chuckles weakly, a breathless sound that blows cold across her sweat-soaked skin and raises goosebumps in its wake. Sleep takes him quickly, lulled by the soft patter of Clover's heart and the fingers that stroke slowly through tangled hair; A rare gift only she seems able to give.

Soft static blankets over her, soothing the pesky few voices that attempt to pick through the mushy mindlessness that had settled over her as she melts into the mattress, utterly spent. Just before she drifts off into her well-deserved reprieve a single thought seeps through the cracks of her fading consciousness, and her eyes well with sentimental tears as Clover curls closer to his softly snoring form;

Alastor loved her, she knew that even if he did not, and nothing could ever take that away from her.

With that thought Clover presses a final kiss to his steadily beating pulse, and drifts away into a dreamless sleep, safe in Alastor's arms.