Fandom Imagines and Preferences III

John Mitchell- Trust Me (c)

Being Human UK One Shot

Based on Trust Me from The Devil's Carnival

"Trust me."

Those two words you fell for almost every time. You loved Mitchell but there were moments that you knew it was a better choice to not trust him. When his blood lust had become uncontrollable, or even to an extreme, he would do anything to get what he wanted. He had done so well to keep off of blood, to thrive as close to being a human as he possibly could, but after you had cut your hand when making dinner it had changed things.

You could see his eyes change, lust filling them. He told you that he was fine, and you didn't need to leave the room as you bandaged up your hand, but you couldn't help but feel unsettled.

"I... I should really go clean this out in the bathroom," you commented hoping that if he had five minutes away from you and your blood-stained hand he might feel better.

"It's fine," he stated standing up to block your escape from the room. "Trust me."

You took a step backwards trying to keep space between you. His eyes glistened with darkness, a sight you didn't enjoy seeing, as he bit down on his lower lip in an attempt to seduce you.

"The blood doesn't affect me Love," he grinned innocently. "But that doesn't mean I don't want something from you."

Maybe you were just overthinking it all. The dark look of hunger you had only ever seen once or twice was terribly similar to the look he gave you to get you into bed with him.

"Can I just sort this out before you seduce me?" You smiled softly.

He gave you a seductive grin, closing the space between you once more.

"No need Love," he smirked. "You're not going to need your hand. I'll make you feel better than you have ever felt before."

You rolled your eyes at him. "You're such a charmer."

Mitchell licked his lips as he leaned closer to you, close enough that you could feel his breath on your lips.

"I wouldn't say this is charm," he whispered. "More, I get what I want, and I want you."

His arms wrapped around you, pulling your waist in to touch his, holding you close enough to him that if he had a heart you'd have felt it beat against you.

"Maybe we should take this to... urm... the bedroom? I doubt that George or Annie want to see this."

He shook his head. "There's no need."

Mitchell's head snapped down to your neck. Pain hit you like a train before everything fell dark. The last thing you could hear was your own scream.

~*~

Written by Charlotte.

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