Haley Thistle
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Curran the Dullahan (complete)
🕑 Added 2021-07-01 19:01:01 +0000 UTC
female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)
Several years ago, your husband was murdered - sacrificed by his own former coven. You were so immobilized by grief that all you could do was take care of your daughter, Daisy. You relied heavily on your own coven, who helped care for you and tried to mend the wounds the loss caused. Unfortunately, anger took hold of you, and in a moment of weakness you let it control you.
Beyond your home was an old graveyard where you played as a child, collecting herbs from graves and even planting a garden amongst the tombstones. It was a quiet and lovely place that you and your coven respected, but your anger was stronger than that peace, and you sought out the grave you desired. You dug it up, tossing aside the sacred earth and throwing aside the lid of the coffin, seizing the skull inside.
You enchanted the skull and placed gold coins in its mouth. Then you buried it under the roots of an oak tree and waited for night to fall, knowing the dead man would come to ask for his head back. You heard hoofbeats in the distance, slowly approaching as you stood to greet him. The dullahan arrived, dismounting from his steed and extending out his hand for his skull.
“It will be returned to you. But first you must do something for me,” you said sternly.
The dullahan moaned, and smoke billowed from the headless neck. “I knew it would not be so easy. What are your terms, witch?” He crossed his arms in defiance.
You stiffened your jaw, letting the anger in your blood flow. “I want you to destroy the coven that killed my husband. Once they are gone, you can have your head back.”
The monster chuckled and smoothed his fingers along his neck. “So, that’s why you chose me. A sacrifice to avenge a sacrifice.”
“I chose you because of reputation, Mr. O’Hart. The fact you suffered the same fate as my husband was merely a bonus.” You stepped closer to him. “With each proven death, I’ll grant you a favor. Do this promptly, and I will grant you a wish along with your head.”
“Curran,” he corrected you. “I am no Mister. I am barely a being.” His shoulders shifted as he leaned forward. “What is prompt to you?”
You lifted three fingers into the air. “Three years. Have them all gone by then.”
Curran sighed, and smoke billowed more thickly from his neck. “This husband of yours must have been really something.”
“You have your task, Curran. That is all you need to know.”
Curran seized your hand. “Then we shall seal it.” Using a small dagger, he pricked your middle finger, then smeared the blood along his neck, where it took the shape of a black collar with a golden lock. When he released your hand, a gold chain formed around your wrist. “I’ll be seeing you again, witch. Hopefully soon.” He rubbed at the collar around his neck, then returned to his horse, and they vanished into the dark night.
You did not see him again until months later, on the eve of your daughter’s second birthday. You were up late wrapping gifts, and you happened to spot him outside the window. You went outside and met him on your porch.
“Good evening, Ms. Witch.” Curran bowed, smoke streaming with his neck. “I have brought your first object of proof.” He handed you a pair of cufflinks made from gold teeth. “Such ugly things, but they were the least offensive of what he wore.”
“You took them based on taste?”
Curran shrugged. “I had it in life. Why would it go away?” He looked inside your door. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” You lead him inside. “Make yourself comfortable, if you wish. I’m sure you’ve had quite the journey.”
Curran inhaled deeply, then spotted the cakes and presents on the table. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No. Daisy is in bed, and I am simply getting ready for her birthday tomorrow.”
Curran took a seat at the table, curling a pink ribbon around his thick finger. “How old is she?”
You placed the cufflinks in a box sitting on the mantel. “She’ll be three.”
“I see,” he breathed. “Well, do I still get my favor?”
You went back to wrapping a birthday present. “Of course, Curran. What is it you’d like for your first?”
Curran cracked his knuckles, turning his palms outwards to bend the fingers. You saw old sigils tattooed on his palms, and you knew them, but they were so faded you could barely read them. Something about them reminded you of your husband. “I would like a bed to sleep in. I can’t recall the last one I slept in, and I’ve barely rested at all since you took my head.”
“That’s fine. I’ll go and sleep with Daisy tonight. She’ll like that.” You set the wrapped gift aside.
Curran clapped his hands together. “Good! Now, do you play chess?”
“Not in a long while. But I still know something about it.” You smiled at him. “I’ll have to unearth my set, if that’s what you’d like.”
Curran chuckled, his smoke coming out much thicker. “I would, very much.”
You found the old chess set in the hidden cupboard under the floor, and set it up as Curran eagerly sat down to play. “This was always my favorite part of the day,” Curran said partway through the match. “Playing with my father each night before we went to bed.”
“You’re quite good,” you remarked.
“Not as good as my father,” Curren sighed, making his next move. “You’re not too shabby, Ms. Witch.”
You gave him a look and carefully assessed your next move. This would come to be his regular request. He’d ask for a game of chess, and then to spend the night in a bed. In the beginning he would usually leave by dawn, but as time passed he spent a few days at a time around your home. He visited his own grave and spent time with the ghosts of the cemetery. He even taught Daisy to play chess.
After the first few deaths, the hunted coven spread out for their own protection. You had assumed this would happen, which was why you gave Curran three years to kill his marks. You knew he would need the time. “I can taste them in the wind,” he told you. “They’re sparse and no longer touching. The scent is thin, but I can at least track it.”
“That’s good,” you murmured.
Curran leaned across the table, bracing his arm upon his knee. “You have such a bitterness towards them.You did say they killed your husband, but there is something you aren’t sharing with me.”
“I see no reason to share those details with you, Curran,” you replied rather coldly. “You have your task.”
Curran sighed. “Come, now. After all this time, it’s more than a task to you. These people have done a great wrong in your eyes. Perhaps if I knew more, I would act with more haste.”
You smirked at him. “Is that what you think, or are you just a busybody?”
Curran laughed. “Perhaps both.”
You sighed and scratched along your hairline. “They were my husband’s former coven, his own flesh and blood. Because he left them for me and his own desires, they decided to take him back.”
Curran is quiet for a moment, and his smoke comes out in a small, thin trail. “I once knew a child, a long time ago. I was still in my grave, mind you, but he would hide behind my tombstone and we would talk. He was always worried that because he didn’t think like his family, they wouldn’t care for him. I taught him to play chess so he would have something in common with his parents, and I told him the spell that would summon me if he ever needed help. I don’t know why, but that reminded me of him.”
“What happened to the boy?” you asked.
“I’m not sure. People grow up. I assume he did, or at least hope so.” Curran turned his body towards the window. “Lots of people have come through that old graveyard. But that boy always stuck out. I always wanted children when I was alive.”
“Really?” You smiled at him. “Is that why you like Daisy so much?”
Curran turned back towards you. “My sisters all had daughters, and I loved them immensely. Daisy reminds me of those bygone days.”
One autumn, just after the second year was over, Curran returned with proof of his next murder. He laid the old brooch in your hands, and you placed it in the box of trinkets before turning to the chessboard like always. “Daisy so wanted to have a game with you,” you said, “but she’s been asleep a good long time now.”
Curran came up behind you. “I don’t want to play chess tonight.” His voice was low and quiet. “I have a different favor to ask.”
The hairs on the back of your neck bristled as his hands circled around your waist. You glanced behind you, then looked into the mirror over the mantel. “What do you want, Curran?”
“I wish to see you naked, Ms. Witch.” Smoke billowed heavily from his neck, smelling of lilies and musk. “I wish to share the bed with you this evening.”
You pushed his hand aside and looked at him with a scowl. “How long have you been thinking about this?”
“Too long,” Curran answered bluntly. “But only recently have I wanted it.” His fingers brushed down the side of your face. “I am lonely, Ms. Witch, and I know you are lonely too. I only long for touch, for warmth. I do not ask for more than skin on skin.”
He was right, you were lonely, and your bed had felt too empty for far too long. “What if you want more in the night?”
Curran laughed. “I’m a big lad, and I can keep my hands to myself. I know I am allowed only one favor.” He touched the buttons on his jacket. “I can go first.”
“Allow me.” You reached up, undoing the buttons of his coat. His tunic underneath was stained and filthy. “You’re a fucking mess,” you scolded. “When have you last washed these things, let alone had a bath?”
“Does it matter?”
You glared up at Curran’s neck. “I’m not sharing my bed with someone filthy. Get undressed and I’ll get your clothes in the washing machine. Go take a shower.”
“You’re serious,” he laughed. “Fine.” He removed all his clothes, standing naked before you. His skin was slate-gray, and his body was in much better shape than you expected. There were scars on his rugged chest, hidden amongst the coarse dark hair. “I’m surprised,” you remarked.
Curran placed his arm around his middle. “What does that mean?” he scoffed.
You bit back a smile. “I didn’t expect so much hair. You said skin-to-skin, not skin-to-pelt.” You were happy to tease him.
Curran pointed at you. “I could also slap your rear, Ms. Witch. That too is skin to skin. Best keep your sniggers in check. Now, where’s the bathroom?”
You showed him the way, then went off and put his old clothes into the washing machine. Then you went into the bedroom to wait for him. You took off your clothes, then slipped under the blankets. It had been so long since you shared your bed with someone other than Daisy, and it felt quite strange to be anticipating someone else.
Eventually, Curran emerged from the steam of the bathroom. His gray skin looked supple, and his chest hair glistened. He stalled when he realized you were already in bed. “Couldn’t wait?” He tossed the towel away and got in bed. “Let me see, now.”
You started to cover yourself but stopped, realizing there was no point to it. “Have a gander,” you said as you rolled your eyes.
“Not bad, but I think you have the better view.” He lay back in the bed. “Now come to me.”
He held his arm out, and you moved towards him. Your back curled into his chest, and his broad arm was drawn around you. His body felt cool to the touch, but it was his presence you found strangely welcome. “You smell nice,” you murmured as you turned the lights out.
Curran sighed. “You used your fancy soaps and shit. You feel soft.”
“Fancy soap and shit.” You rolled onto your back, letting him touch your breast and stroke down your body. “Have you really been lonely, Curran?”
“I have.” He poked a finger into your navel. “Even before I died, I was lonesome. I was used to my big family and always having someone around.” His fingers touched the mound of fluff between your thighs, then quickly moved away. “That’s why I like Daisy. I miss my little sisters and nieces.”
“I was an only child,” you confessed. “The closest thing I had to a big family was my mother’s herd of cats.”
“Did you plan to have my children with your husband?” Curran asked.
It was a stake through your heart, and the pain showed on your face. “I’m sorry.” Curran moved his hand away from you, then brushed his thumb under your eye, capturing the tears that fell. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine, just…” You held his wrist and kept his hand on your face.
“You summoned me because of him, and yet I have never seen a hint of him here, or heard his name spoken.” He drew closer to you, keeping his hand on your face. “Why is that?”
You rolled over, burying your face against his chest. “I can’t.” That would be all you could give him that night. You fell asleep with Curran, wrapped up in his strong arms.
In the morning, you were frightened by your desire to linger in bed - to touch Curran, to be comforted by his masculine attributes. Instead, you got up, dressed and fetched his clothes for him, laying them out so he could dress when he woke. You prepared breakfast for Daisy in the kitchen, listening to the sound of rain patter on the windows.
Eventually you heard the floorboards creak with the weight of Curran’s footsteps. He came into the kitchen, standing in the doorway as you poured pancake batter into the pan. “You woke up early,” he said and leaned into the frame. “Sleep soundly?”
You looked towards him only briefly before focusing on the pancakes. “I suppose I did, given the circumstances. Did you?”
“I don’t sleep like one would think. But I haven’t felt so warm between the sheets in such a long time. It was nice to let that carry me away into something I would consider rest.” Curran left the doorway and sat down at the table. “Is that rain I hear?”
“It is,” you sighed. “I think it rained all night.”
“I never noticed.” Curran rubbed at the collar around his neck. “Thanks to you.”
“It was your favor, after all.” You sighed. “That rain is probably why Daisy hasn’t woken up yet.” You lifted the pancake from the pan and onto a plate. “I should go get her.”
“Let me. You’re cooking.” Curran stood and left the kitchen again, and just as you were making another pancake he returned carrying Daisy in his arms. She curled up against him, her hair an absolute mess.
“I’m making your favorite.” You approached to take her. “Don’t you want to wake up?”
Daisy clung tighter to Curran, grumbling in a sleep-muddled voice. Curran stroked her back and sighed. “Worry about cooking. I’ll get her woken up.”
“Her hair is so ratted up,” you huffed.
“I can fix it.” Curran sat Daisy down at the table, and while you cooked he took a brush to her hair and combed it all out. Daisy insisted he sit by her while she ate. She even tried to offer him a bite, but he had to turn it away with a laugh. In a way, you were relieved to see him and Daisy get along so well.
Curran stayed another day. The rain from that morning had turned into a torrential storm by the afternoon. He played chess with Daisy most of that day, teaching her new tricks to better her game. The rain continued well on into the evening, so he decided to stay until morning. That evening, after Daisy was put to bed, you went to take a shower, only to find Curran emerging from the steam. He stood there naked, and for a moment you couldn’t take your eyes off him.
You quickly averted your eyes and cleared your throat. “I didn’t notice the amount of scars you had last night.” You approached the vanity to distract yourself while he dried off. “You’ve really grown fond of the shower, I see.”
“I like the warmth of it.” Curran chuckled. “If you’d like, I could show you my scars.”
A tickle ran down your spine and between your legs. “No, thank you.” You busied yourself by brushing your teeth.
Curran laid the towel aside and groaned. “Where shall I sleep tonight?”
You spat into the sink and wiped at the corner of your mouth, then looked into the mirror to see him waiting. “Go to the bed,” you murmured decisively.
Smoke flowed from Curran’s neck. “You don’t owe me another favor yet.”
You turned away from the sink and looked sternly at him. “Do you wish to sleep elsewhere? It’s your choice, and you know where to go inside this house better than most.”
Curran stiffened, then relaxed. “I want to be with you, Ms. Witch. Just like last night.” He sighed. “More than last night.”
You stepped towards him. “It won’t be like last night.” You smoothed your palm through his body hair, stroking down his chest and stomach. “Just this once…” Your voice caught in the back of your throat.
A low rasping sound came from deep in Curran’s chest. “Just this once.” He grabbed your hand before it sank too low. “Do not be afraid to take what you want tonight, Ms. Witch. I will give you my all.”
You shivered and your lashes fluttered. “Do not think this will be our game of chess from here on out.” You felt weak in the knees as his hand moved down your arm, brushing against your side and undoing the belt of your robe.
“Of course.” His big hand cupped around your face and his thumb smoothed over your lips, which you parted to let his thumb onto your tongue. “We are weak because of the rain.” He moaned deeply as you sucked on his thumb. That was all the encouragement you needed.
You went to bed with Curran, mounting him and taking him deeply inside until you were fulfilled. His hands roamed your body, studying the sigil tattoos on your skin. You touched his scars the same way, kissing them, licking them. He shivered for you, and you responded in kind. Curran’s body was heavy upon you, but you wanted him closer, and you wrapped your legs around his strong waist to keep him locked in place. You cried a little, having not felt having not felt anything but anger inside since your husband died. Curran coaxed from you relief and satisfaction. His strong body clung to yours, and he buried your face in the pillows to muffle your cries. You took him into your mouth to let him finish, swallowing his release.
You lay beside him when it was over, feeling strangely guilty yet relieved. You wanted to talk through the night, but you could not find any words to say. So you just lay there, gazing towards the window. Curran’s arm suddenly wrapped around you and pulled you against his chest again. “You should sleep, Ms. Witch.”
“My mind won’t stay quiet,” you breathed. “My body is sated, but my mind still has much to worry about.”
Curran’s fingers touched your temple like a kiss. “Do you wish to speak to me about it?” he asked gently.
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.” You eased back into his chest. “There’s so much that might overflow.”
His fingers glided down your spine. “If there’s anything about last night in there…”
“There is,” you interrupt. “But it’s nothing I would consider worrisome.”
Curran sighed with relief as his fingers tapped against your lips. “I do like you, Ms. Witch. I have for a while now.”
You took his hand and pressed your cheek into it. “I can’t like you back, not yet.”
He leaned closer to you so you could feel his weight. “I’ll leave today,” he said. “Did you get all that you needed?”
You took his hand, kissing his palm affectionately. “For the time being.” You rose from the bed and looked down at him. “How long will you be gone?”
“It depends on who I find first.” Curran sat up with you, touching your shoulder and smoothing his big palm down your back. “But I will come back once they are dealt with.”
You kissed his neck and laid your head on his chest. “As always, I am assured you will do what’s needed. Avenge my Caleb.”
Curran was still. His hand cupped your cheek again, and you leaned into it. “I will, Ms. Witch. As we promised.”
He left in the fog, and you returned to yourself, putting that one weak night behind you. After a few weeks had passed, you took out a box from under your bed that contained your husband’s old belongings. You took out the pictures of him, his favorite shirt, his diary. You hid them away because they had been too painful to acknowledge. Caleb had left his coven for you, a risk which he ultimately paid for. He had grown weary of their darkness, and falling in love with you was just the final straw. He had meticulously kept his diary ever since he was small, but after his death, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to read it.
Curran returned months later in the middle of the night. He came to you from the cold, and sighed heavily as he stepped into the warmth of your home. You missed him so much, it was a relief to finally see him home again. “Welcome back,” you said in a soft voice. “You were much faster than you usually are. I’m impressed.”
Curran gave you the proof of his kill, and you knew there was only one remaining. “I got angry this time.” The smoke rising from his neck was thick and heavy and laid strangely on his shoulders, like fog on a pond.
“You knew my Caleb,” you say to Curran as you took the trinket. “He was the little boy you taught chess to, wasn’t he? I read his diary, and he spoke about you often.”
Curran sighed and his shoulders dropped. “I did not realize he was yours. You never spoke his name, so I never put the pieces together until the night I left. You said his name to me for the first time, and I realized who you were. I saw him like a little brother, and knowing what befell him, I went out in rage this time.”
You took Curran’s hand and raised it so you could kiss his palm. “That’s why I chose you. He took me to your grave often when we first met, and that’s how I knew you were a warrior. I didn’t realize your significance until I read his diary. I didn’t know it was you who taught him the dullahan spell.”
Curran put an arm around you. “I cannot stay long this time - I just had to bring you this proof to assure you. But finding this final target may take me all the time I have left.”
“Three years.” Those words got caught in your throat.
Curran scooped you off the floor. “I’ll take my favor from you to last me these remaining months.”
“Just once more.” You kissed his neck, and he shivered.
“Just once more.” Curran carried you to the bedroom, throwing you down on the bed. You were so impatient to fulfill this favor that you didn’t even take the time to remove your clothes. He opened his pants while you kissed his neck, and you grabbed his arms, bringing him on top of you. He made you feel so desperate, so weak to his touch, but you had no rain to blame it on this time.
Curran ripped your tights to gain access to what he wanted, and you didn’t stop him. You needed his strong body, his powerful strokes, his rough hands. You kissed what you could, wishing there was more than smoke above his head. He used his fingers to show affection, touching them to your lips and pressing his thumb against your tongue. He moaned and cried out, driving himself into your quickening flesh. He made you weak, just like Caleb had. It was frightening to think you desired Curran in the same way as him. You never thought another man could do that to you.
You woke in the morning to the touch of Curran’s fingers upon your lips. He was dressed and ready to leave. “I don’t have much time left if I wish to fulfill my promise,” he said softly as his fingers brushed through your hair. “I’ll claim my wish when I return. No more small favors.”
“I know.” You looked at him and tried to smile. “Try and hurry.”
“I will,” he laughed. “I want to get this over with. I want my head back, it’s driving me crazy. Give Daisy my best. I am sorry I did not get to see her this visit.”
“She’ll miss you too.” You walked Curran to the door. Outside the world is still quiet and dark. “Be safe.”
“You’ve never said that to me before,” he said softly. “Why now?”
You swallowed, wondering that yourself. “I guess just to have something to say.”
Curran leaned down so his neck was near your ear. “Be prepared for the end. Once this is over, I hope you have the peace you were looking for.” He vanished into the low light of dawn, and you wondered what the end would be.
“Mama?” You were roused by the sound of Daisy calling for you. You sat up in bed, looking towards the window to find only a sea of gray fog outside. Daisy was at the window looking out, her long hair mussed from sleep.
“What time is it?” you mumbled, glancing at the clock. “It’s still early. What are you doing up?”
Daisy looked back at you. “I thought I heard Curran coming home.”
The third year would be up in a few days, and still there was no sign of Curran. Both of you had grown worried. You opened up the blankets for Daisy, letting her crawl into bed with you. “You miss him, huh?” you yawned.
“I do.” It made sense, after all. Curran had been there for half of Daisy’s life now. You ran your fingers through her hair, something Curran always took care of when he was around.
“This will be his last time coming home. You know that, don’t you?”
Daisy looked up at you, wide-eyed. “But why?”
“Because that is how the spell works. I summoned him to do a job for me, and when it’s done, he’ll get his head back and leave.” You smoothed your palm across Daisy’s forehead. “He will probably return to his grave.”
“Can I still see him?” Daisy chirped hopefully.
You smiled. “You can visit as much as you want.”
Daisy didn’t smile. “But I’d rather have him here with us. He makes you happy, Mama.”
That was like a kick to the gut. “That… that’s not our choice. It’s his.”
“I could ask him,” Daisy said with a small pout.
“You can,” you murmured. “But I don’t want you to get your hopes up, baby. Curran may want to return to rest again.” Daisy was silent after that. She was determined, and no matter what you said you knew she would want to ask Curran to stay.
The fog remained all day, growing thicker by the hour. You could barely see beyond your front porch when you stood in the doorway. Daisy went down for her nap, but she asked for her curtains to be drawn so she couldn’t see the fog. After she went to sleep, you stepped outside, looking through the fog. The world was silent, and then you heard the echoing trot of hooves. You held your breath tight in your chest and waited, stepping closer to the edge of the porch just as hands emerged from in the fog.
“I got the last one.” Curran showed you a locket you knew all too well.
You hesitated to take it, or even touch Curran at all. You were relieved to see him, but now a fear crep over you that this could be the last time you’ll see him. “I was worried.”
“It took me some time.” Curran placed the locket into your palm and stepped onto the porch. His clothes looked ragged and worn. One sleeve of his coat was nearly ripped off, and there was evidence of stabbing all over.
“My god, what happened?” You touched his chest, tugging at the fabric to see all the holes that had been made.
“A fight was put up. But I still won.” He placed his fingertips to your forehead.
You looked up at his neck, the smoke that usually seeped out blending into the fog. “Are you okay?”
“I will be,” Curran murmured.
You sighed and turned aside. “Let me go get my shovel.”
“Is Daisy here?” Curran asked.
You nodded. “She’s asleep though, taking her nap.”
“Oh,” Curran huffed, “that’s okay.” He followed you to the backyard. You walked slowly, taking your time as you fetched your gardening spade from the shed.
Over three years’ growth had taken over the head’s burial spot, moss and vines, and lots of strange little golden flowers. You dug through it all, unearthing Curran’s skull from the ground. You dusted it and then held it tenderly in your arms. “I can wash it if you want me to,” you offered, hoping to delay a bit more.
Curran pointed to his head. “Just take the gold from the mouth. That’s all I need you to do for now.”
You looked down at the skull, and tears began to fill your eyes. You cradled it close, beginning to weep as Curran watched. “What’s this?” Curran reached out, stroking your hair. “Ms. Witch, look at me.”
You shook your head. “I know I made a promise, but I don’t want you to go, Curran. Daisy likes you. I…” The tears rolled down your cheeks.
“Give me my head, Ms. Witch,” Curran commanded. “So I can take my wish as well.”
You sobbed as you removed the gold coins from his mouth. The gold chain around your wrist broke and fell to the ground. Curran took his head in one hand and carefully placed it on his neck. The smoke spewed from inside, billowing out until the entire top half of him was invisible in the fog. There were spurts of fire and golden embers, cracking sounds, snapping. Curran gurgled and coughed, dropping to his knees. You ran to his side, kneeling beside him. His body felt warm to the touch. The lock on the collar broke, and it fell to the ground with a heavy thud. He breathed out slowly, rising just enough that long, long hair fell over his shoulder.
There was a golden glow in Curran’s eyes and mouth. He looked up and spat a gold coin into his palm. “You missed one.” A black tongue darted out. “Disgusting.”
You took the gold coin, then looked into his face. His eyes glowed, as did the interior of his mouth, which stretched wide like the grin of a jack o’ lantern. His slate-gray skin was covered in dark freckles, including a small mole near his bottom lip. You touched his face, cupping his cheek before gently combing his hair away. His wicked smile grew, and he held your hand in place. “How do I look?”
“I didn’t expect freckles,” you breathed.
Curran kissed your palm. “Adorable, aren’t they?” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’d kiss you, but I’m sure my breath is wretched.”
You wrapped your arms around him, holding him in a fond embrace. “Don’t go just yet,” you whispered. “Wait for Daisy to say goodbye.”
Curran held you in return, his thick arms locking you against his now-warm body. “I want to see her. Part of my wish relies on her.”
“Oh, right. Your wish.” He would be gone after it was granted, so you hoped Daisy would sleep in. “What do you want?”
“I have to wait for Daisy.” Curran combed his fingers through your hair. “I’m cold. Can we go inside?”
“Of course.” You stood, taking him inside, and as you led him his sleeve finally fell off.
“Dammit! And I have no clothes.” He lifted the ruined sleeve off the ground defeatedly. “I don’t suppose you have anything?”
“Not in your size.” You rubbed your palm against his bare arm. “I’ll see what I do have, though.” You went back to your bedroom, took out the chest with Caleb’s belongings inside, and fished out a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pants. They’d probably be a bit snug on Curran, but it was all you had.
“Curran! You’re home!” you heard Daisy squeal. “And you have a head!”
You stepped out of your room to find Daisy hugging Curran’s neck tightly. Then she sat in his lap, studying his face. “Do you like me with a head?” he asked.
“It’s different.” Daisy giggled.
“I can take it off. if you’d like,” he teased. He grabbed the nape of his neck and lifted his head off, which made Daisy squeal with delight again.
“I found you some clothes,” you finally spoke up.
Daisy looked up and smiled at you, then slipped off Curran’s lap so he could stand. “Thank you.” He took the clothes. “I’ll go change. Got any mouthwash?”
“On the sink. Help yourself,” you murmured. You felt sick to your stomach as he entered the bathroom. Once he had his wish, Curran would be gone.
“I’m gonna ask him, Mama,” Daisy said. “He’ll stay. I know he will!”
You didn’t say anything. You just gave her a sad smile.
Curran emerged a bit later. The clothes were indeed a bit tight on him, but at least they fit. “Okay, Daisy, can you come here a second?” He crooked his finger. “I need to ask you something in secret.”
“I need to ask you something, too! Let’s go to my room.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him away. You went up to her closed door, pressing your ear against it in the hope you could hear something, but all you heard was unintelligible whispers. The door opened, and Daisy stood there trying her hardest not to smile.
“I’m ready to make my wish,” Curran said. He stood up from the floor and approached you. “Daisy gave me her permission.” He tapped his fingertips against your lips.
“Okay, I’m ready.” You were shaking, so you put your hands on his arms to steady yourself.
“Ms. Witch,” Curran breathed close to your ear. “Will you marry me?”
Chills raked down your back and through your bones. You looked up at him, taking in a breath but forgetting how to exhale. You stared in disbelief. Curran grinned. “I want to stay with you and Daisy. I don’t desire to return to my grave without you.” He wiped away the tears coming from your eyes. “I love you, Ms. Witch. Please become Mrs. Witch.”
The dam broke, and you began to blubber, and kissed Curran so hard his head almost came off again. It was an easy question to answer, but it took you a few minutes to actually sputter out that grateful “Yes.”
After Daisy went to bed, you took Curran to bed. He would be sleeping beside you from this night forward. It felt too good to be true. You took your time with him, kissing and touching. You wanted to make sure this was all real. His body was warm now, and it felt so good against your tongue. He moaned and struggled to breathe the more you touched him. “Enough,” Curran rasped. “You’re too forceful for me tonight. Come up here.”
You rose from between Curran’s thighs, your lips glossy from your efforts. He pulled you up, kissing you as he rolled you onto the bed. “Let me look at you,” he breathed. “You’ve been so intent tonight.”
You touched his chest, then captured the ends of his long hair in your hands. “I was terrified I’d never see you again. Now I’m so relieved, all I want to do is touch you.”
“With your mouth, I see,” he chuckled. “I knew early on I never wanted to leave you. You took my head, but you also took my heart.”
You smiled. “I never expected you to be corny.”
Curran grinned. “You can’t tell me I didn’t steal yours as well, Ms. Witch. All those tears from before weren’t just because of allergies.”
You shook your head. “No. I did fall in love with you.” You pulled him on top of you. “I didn’t think I could again.”
“I’m yours,” he breathed into your ear. “And no one will take me away from you. That I vow.”
You held on fast to him, taking him deep inside as he rocked slowly against you. His thrusts coursed through your body, igniting your veins. Your back arched, and his body trembled. You both slowed to prolong the end. “I love you,” you moaned into his ear.
“I love you too, Mrs. Witch.” His hand cradled your lower back. “From here to beyond when we are both in our graves.”
Comments
I love this!
