#vampire fanfix

[nosferatvpussy]

distorted lullabies [chapter III]

Word count: 4,976

Warnings: mentions of sexual abuse, vulgar language

Pairing: Dracula x reader

AO3 link if you prefer that format.

  My phone rang.

Moaning sleepily, I rolled over on the bed searching blindly for it on the bedside table. My fingers found the vibration’s source and grabbed it. I peeked out of one eye so I could see the screen and accept the call, without taking notice of who was calling.

“Yeah?” I answered, closing my eyes again.

“I want to know everything.”

“Diana?” 

“Who else?” said my neighbour. “You missed our breakfast so I expect it was an above average night for you.”

“You’re so nosy!” I complained but chuckled. “Was I loud?” I grimaced, expecting the worst and imagining my other neighbour’s faces at me the next time I decided to stroll down the street.

“Well, I definitely heard you but I’m literally one door away from you. And Jack and Suze are on holiday so, you don’t have to worry about them. Come outside, I’ve made us lunch.”

“‘Kay. Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.”

I sighed and, phone still in hand, attempted to get up but immediately lied down again upon feeling that I had a stiff neck. Staring at the ceiling, my mind flashed back to last night and I smacked my forehead. 

“World’s biggest hickey, indeed,” I muttered as I strained to get out of bed. “Ow, ow, ow.” 

I opened the curtains on my way to the bathroom and squinted at the uncharacteristic sunlight that streamed in. Peeking out of the window, I could see a pristine blue sky and no clouds in sight. Hopefully it would last. 

I caught my reflection on the mirror as soon as I entered the bathroom and paused. My hair was tousled and I had dark circles around my eyes. My upper lip was a bit colourless but the bottom one had an unnatural shade of violet as a reminder of my make out with the Count. A little makeup would disguise it so Diana wouldn’t have more reasons to pick on me. My hands started pulling my hair back so I could brush my teeth without it slipping into the sink but shock paralysed me.

There, on the left side of my neck I had teeth marks imbedded on my skin. If they had been just outlines that would have been fine - I had had one of those before in encounters with previous lovers - but I had punctures this time.

“He bit me,” I spoke to myself, my faint voice echoing in the bathroom. 

I leaned towards the mirror to inspect it up close. The skin around the laceration was discoloured and slightly swollen to the touch. There was no blood at all. It couldn’t have been a very deep bite because my body was already making a light scab over the wound.

“What the fuck…” 

My brain raced searching for a plausible explanation as I stared at myself. There was none. Anger replaced shock and I grabbed my phone, cycling through the contact list. I silently thanked myself for saving his new number in case I had needed to speak with him regarding his assets. I called three times to no avail. Steam was probably coming out of my ears as I typed a message to him.

 YOU FUCKING BIT ME! Expect the police to knock on your door today, you wanker. 

All of my hypothesis as to why he had done that involved some sort of mental disorder. Number one, he was just fucking crazy. Number two, he had a fetish for biting people. Number three, he suffered from delusions that he was a vampire. And every other form of variation surrounding that.

I waited a few more minutes for a reply or a call back from him but nothing happened. 

I debated whether I should clean the wound or not but if I wanted the police to get DNA so I could get a proper case built against him, it was best I didn’t wash it. Although the wound certainly didn’t look pretty, there was nothing that indicated an infection.

There was a rasp on my back door and then Diana called my name. 

“I’m going!” I yelled. 

After having used the toilet, brushed my teeth and hair, I dabbed some concealer around my eyes and put on a light shade of lipstick to cover the lip bruise Count Dracula had given me. I changed from my pajamas into an acceptable outfit, which included a red scarf tied around my neck, and went out into the back garden I shared with Diana.

Diana was not only my neighbour but also the world’s nicest landlady. Her house and mine used be conjoined which is why we shared the back yard. Years ago, when Diana’s husband died, she’d decided to separate the two houses again and rent one of them. She was still looking into splitting the garden by placing a wood fence when I moved in. We had grown so close over the years that she had given up on installing a fence and just left it the way it was. 

We took turns on making breakfast for each other every Saturday and we usually ate on a picnic table on the covered patio that sat adjacent to Diana’s backdoor. But today, Diana had set the table on the very back of the garden with a parasol shielding a round wooden table and two chairs. The bird fountain on the far left was on and birds were happily singing and chirping as they stood beneath the shooting streams of water.

The blinding sun paired with such a joyous scene made it hard for me to stay mad and I found myself beaming at Diana.

“Good morning!” she cheered.

Diana had her long hair on a plait which gave it a cool effect now that she had stopped dyeing her hair and embraced the silver. That didn’t mean she was fully accepting of aging - she had a fair amount of botox on her forehead and around her eyes. Working as a marketing director for a big cosmetics company for over 20 years will do that to any person. Plus if she looked a day over 40 it wouldn’t exactly be the best marketing strategy. 

I was the closest thing to a child to her, well, besides the 5 cats she owned. Ever since Gerard, her husband, died ten odd years ago she hadn’t experimented with dates or lovers because she thought nobody would ever live up to him. And so she lived vicariously through my love escapades.

“Morning!” 

I had barely sat down and she was already serving me a plate of spaghetti on creamy mushroom sauce, my favourite of hers. She was about to pour me a glass of white wine but I covered the glass with my hand.

“Hangover?” She winced sympathetically.

“Not the worst one but yes.” I poured myself a glass of water and gulped it down.

“So? Name, age, what does he do, how was he in bed… Go.” 

I frowned as I drank the last of my water. 

“Hm… I- I don’t think we had sex,” I said. 

Diana lowered her fork that had been on the way to her mouth and frowned back. 

“You don’t remember?”

“Well, I remember kissing him at my door. And then he-” I touched the scarf absently and put on my courtroom face before my eyes could pop out of my head.

I had blacked out. I had no memory about what had happened after he’d bitten me. I didn’t even remember putting on my pajamas. He could have done way more than just bit me. 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

“He what?”

“Uh, he gave me a hickey but yeah I don’t remember much after that. Honestly I drank a lot of rum yesterday and I’m having a small case of amnesia right now. I’m sure it will come back to me later.” God, I fucking hoped so. 

“But you are not sure if you had sex with him?”

“99% sure I didn’t,” I conceded. “I’d be sore if I had and I’m not.”

“He could have been gentle about it.”

“Trust me, he would not have been gentle.” I forced a laugh.

That got Diana’s attention away from my blackout and she started goading for more information. The rational part of my brain placed itself on autopilot as we had lunch and talked about Count Dracula. For once I was glad about the courtroom face I had acquired over the years and the amount of insensitivity that came with it, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to keep talking without panic taking over. 

After Diana was satisfied with all the details I had given her, we moved topics to Judge Llewellyn and the wretched amount of sexism we had both experienced in our lines of work. It was a good outlet for the anger I was feeling towards Dracula. 

Two hours later we said our goodbyes and parted with a promise to go grocery shopping together the next day. 

Once in the comfort and security of my living room I realised I had lied to Diana about the bite without even noticing I’d done that. If I had, then Diana would insist in taking me to the police station and keeping me company the whole time I was there, which was a very good idea. So why had I lied? She was my friend and with how I was starting to panic, I wanted emotional support. 

But there was a tiny part of me that didn’t want anyone else to know about the bite, like it was a private and very intimate thing. As if it was a secret to be kept very safe between Count Dracula and I.

Sitting on my sofa, I flickered my eyes to the front door. I should go to the police station, yes but my body was willing myself to keep sitted and remain there. 

My phone beeped and with a glance, I knew I had to stay put.

   We’ll talk after sunset.  

____________________________________________

  The police didn’t go to his home so, he presumed she had not paid them a visit. Or, and that was also very likely, London’s police was terrible at their job. Either way, he was surprised to hear her heartbeat coming from inside the house. He had expected her to flee upon receiving his text and, oh, if she did he would find her. But now that he had gotten acquainted with her scent and marvelous taste, there was no mistake that she was inside the house, waiting for him.

He smiled, pleased that he wouldn’t have to hunt her down across London, and rang the doorbell. 

“Come in!” she shouted from the inside. 

Black eyebrows shot up on the Count’s forehead. Easy, a little too easy, even.

He turned the doorknob, pushed it open and waited. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps another attempt to capture him by Johnny’s Foundation or a trap by Scotland Yard but there were no other heartbeats coming from the house.

He made his way in, listening attentively for her. There were several photos of her and friends, presumably, on the walls. One of them was with… Hm, what was her name? His tongue rubbed the top of his mouth in an attempt to evoke the memories he had consumed along with her blood. Ah, Diana. Lovely woman. He might have a taste of her, too.

“There you are,” he said upon finding Y/N sitting on the living room. 

The room wasn’t particularly big but it served as a library large enough to cause envy on the best of individuals. Vinyl records were set up as decoration on the wall behind the sofa where she was sat. A stone fireplace and the TV broke the overall “vintage” look. It was hardly vintage to him but he had missed several decades that were now considered old to humans. 

She looked up at him tiredly and stood up from the sofa, stretching like a cat which caused several of her brones to crack and a moan to erupt from her throat. A corner of his mouth twitched up as a response to the sound.

“Will you give me a second so I can order food? I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

The Count stood there, nonplussed, as she grabbed her phone and started clicking its screen. He expected screaming, a slap to the face or crying, but not this. Not this at all. 

For starters, it was unusual that she had remembered having been bitten. Even more unusual that she had been able to sent him a text calling him a “wanker”. On the night before, he had meant to put her under his thrall, much like he had done to Renfield, as an experiment to see if he could bend someone as willful as her. Considering that she had successfully insulted him, it had failed and he was pleasantly surprised with that. After he received that text, he had prepared himself for a scandal. 

“Y/N.” 

A few more clicks on the screen and she looked up at him, a mix of exhaustion and anger on her eyes.

“I couldn’t move all day, did you know that? Waiting for you. I couldn’t control my body, like a fucking puppet waiting for its master to move the strings.”

“What?”

“If obeying your every command-" she stood on her tiptoes, putting her nose close to his as he instinctively leaned closer "-is part of being a vampire then I don’t bloody want it." Her voice was low, acquiring a tinge of what she probably considered threat.   

He couldn’t stop his lips from parting and his eyes from widening. She knew, she knew! 

“Oh, how have I underestimated you!” he exclaimed, a grin sprouting in his face. 

“Save it, toothy,” she said as she jammed a finger on his chest. “I’m going to have a shower and you’ll wait here so we can talk later.”

“Watch your tongue,” he warned. 

He was more amused by her anger than insulted but he wanted to put the spell he had on her to the test. Defiant eyes met his and her upper lip curled, almost like a snarl.

“I will do no such thing,” she enunciated every word carefully with a smug smile. 

He held her stare, admired that her insolence had persevered and she had no fear of him. Apparently thinking she’d won, she turned her back on him and left the room. 

Dracula barely registered the sounds of her footsteps on the upper floor and the shower running. He was too trapped in thought to take any notice of it. 

He sunk down exactly where she had been sitting, an awed smile still in his face. Usually, when he chose a person to feed on and truly enjoy their blood for a longer period of time, a spell took over them so they wouldn’t notice the bites or have any memory of the fact. They would just go about life oblivious to what was happening. It had worked on Johnny and even worked on Agatha, although it only lasted so long on her. 

It had not worked at all on Y/N. Except… She had some level of obedience to him. Not the same as Renfield’s, of course, but enough to make her immobile through all afternoon. Still it didn’t make much sense because he hadn’t ordered her to remain still and wait for him but that’s what she had done. 

Anticipation grew within him and he almost went up the stairs to question her exactly how she’d pieced together that he was a vampire. Impulsivity nearly got the better of him but the ringing doorbell kept him from bolting upstairs. 

Ah, her food was here. He had some reparations to make with her if he wanted her to be as good a bride as Johnny had been, so he stood up from the sofa and went to the door to receive the meal. The paper bag informed him that it was Thai cuisine, which he sadly hadn’t had the opportunity to try yet but in a metropolis like London it shouldn’t be too hard to find Thai blood. 

After dismissing the man who had delivered the food, Dracula brought the food to her kitchen where he found plates and cutlery. As she finished her shower and slipped out of the bathroom, he occupied himself with setting up a table on her dining room. After some searching in drawers he found linen napkins and candles. He was finishing lighting the candles placed on the center of the table when she came down the stairs. 

She stopped under the arch that led to the dining room and glared at the special decoration. Droplets of water cascaded from her hair and her skin glowed as if she had light stored behind her flesh. She had on an oversized jumper which concealed her shape but her legs were on display. They were a different shade than the rest of her skin, a little light as if they hadn't seen the sunrays in a long time, but that didn’t take away from the beauty of them. 

Dracula wondered how they would feel wrapped around him, the feel of her warm skin against his, how she would trap him with those legs while he entered her.  The blood running through her veins pumped in anger as he gazed at her. If she’d let him he could feed from a particularly delicious vein on her inner thigh. The thought of it made him hard.

“Stop that,” she said, breaking the trance. 

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like you are deciding between fucking me or drinking me dry.”

“Why not both?” 

She winced as if his words had hurt her.

“Last night… Did we- did you do something else to me?” 

Suddenly understanding the pain that had passed her face moments ago, he shook his head. 

“No,” he responded firmly. “You were nearly unconscious. After I was done, I waited until you could stand on your own and sent you inside.”

“So you didn’t-?” She gulped and crossed her arms in front of her. 

“Rape you?” he completed and she winced again. “No. I would never. Consent is important to me in that matter.” 

He didn’t want her to be scared of him and right now, he could smell her fear. Trust, most of all, was what he wanted from her. Perhaps that would be the right ingredient when making a perfect bride.  Lucy, whom he’d met just two nights before he met Y/N, trusted in him enough to completely give herself to him, body and mind. Lucy, however, was too… malleable. Y/N’s nearly unbreakable iron-will was admirable and he was certain that because of it she’d be unparalleled as a bride. 

Having that consideration in mind, he forced himself to put his good manners aside and, instead of offering her a chair, made his way around the table and took the seat furthest from her. The crease between her eyebrows softened and she nodded to acknowledge his action, sitting down at the head of the table. She opened the food container and carefully tipped it over her plate. The strong smell of spices made his nose tingle and his mouth water - not at the food but at the taste her blood would acquire after she ate it. 

“So, enlighten me,” he leaned back, crossing his hands over his chest. “If you know what I am why would you invite me in?”

She raised a finger as she chewed on the food, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He rubbed his fingers together as an attempt to concentrate but she was determined to make it difficult to him, it seemed. 

“Quid pro quo, Clarice. You tell me things I tell you things,” she said after swallowing. Seeing the frown on his face, she waved a hand. “Film reference, forget it. But you get the meaning.” He nodded so she would continue but reminded himself to watch a film by the name of Silence of the Lambs, at least that was the title her blood provided. “I had to invite you in. My body told me to.”

“Your body?” He leaned forward, eyebrows raising as he considered it. “How-”

“No,” she interrupted. “My turn. How long do I have?”

“What?”

“Until I start wanting to rip people apart,” she said before taking another bite from her food. 

“Oh, that. I didn’t take enough blood to turn you.” 

“But you will?”

“Yes.” He smiled.

“Do I have a say in this?”

“No.”He eased himself back to rest on the chair. “You may try to run and hide but I will  find you. The outcome will be the same if you don’t run so let’s not make it harder on ourselves, shall we? This will be much more pleasurable if I have your consent.” She stabbed daggers with her eyes and opened her mouth to talk but it was his turn to raise a finger to ask for silence. “You’ve asked too many questions already. Tell me how you came to know what I am.”

“It wasn’t very hard putting it together. You are not exactly discreet,” she said in a snide tone. “At first, I thought you were insane. Although I was stuck playing statue all afternoon, I still had my phone with me and I could move my hands just fine. So I accessed our database, the law firm’s database that is, and searched for your file. I was looking for a criminal file or hospital records.”

She paused to eat some more and Count Dracula once again took a moment to appreciate this decade’s technology. A mobile phone contained a world of information just one click away. If those were around the time of Inquisition, the entire population would be burned for heresy and witchcraft.

“Imagine my surprise upon seeing you have been a client of ours since the 1890s,” she continued. “I thought that was probably a mistake, that maybe an ancestor of yours with the same name had been a client in the past. But I found a black and white photo in the file. Nobody is exactly identical to an ancestor so I was sure it had to be you.” She cleared her throat. “Then it was matter of putting 2 and 2 together… Renfield had said that you are only available after dark, so there was that. And then there was your cold skin, the bite and the apparent immortality. That’s a vampire if I’ve ever met one and, well, now I have.”

“How many people have access to that information?”

“Technically only Renfield. I was his intern when I started at the firm and I know all his passwords. That’s how I gained access...” her mouth fell open. “Is he a vampire, too? Is that why he is the only one permitted to see your files?”

The Count laughed.

“Hardly. He is a servant.”

She glowered at him.

“I don’t serve anyone,” she said in a small voice. “I felt enslaved today while I waited for you, unable to move… Please don’t do that to me.”

He had tried to do that and, though it hadn’t worked, almost regretted trying. He didn’t enjoy seeing her humiliation now or hearing the meekness in her voice. If she was anyone else it could have amused him but what he liked about her was the power and boldness she exuded. Stripping her of those would be like knocking the moon and stars out of the sky. Would anyone admire the night sky if they were not there? 

“You are not a servant and you will never be one.” He tilted his head as something occurred him. “Why did you not call the police?”

“I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My body wouldn’t obey my commands-” She straightened her shoulders and lowered her eyes for a second before meeting his again. “I didn’t want anybody to know about the bite because part of me knew that you wouldn’t want that.”

“Ah.” He nodded, finally making sense of it. “Loyalty, that was what bound you to me, then. You’re not a servant and you’re not blindly loyal to me as Renfield is, it seems. Wanker, right? That’s the name you called me.” She smiled at that. “It proves you’re not a servant, otherwise you wouldn’t even think such thing. I suspect that you are only bound to the vampire in me, which is why you couldn’t go the police. Your tie to me prevents you from revealing it to other people.”

“Like I signed an NDA where I can’t talk about you being a vampire or anything related to that,” she said, regaining some of the strength on her voice as she made sense of it. “An NDA is something two or more parties sign when-”

“I know what a non-disclosure agreement is,” he interrupted.

“Were those around in your time?” She returned her attention to the food on her plate.

“I don’t think so,” he said. She was taking everything in fairly well. He wondered how much more she would be able to digest in one sitting. “I know what it is because you do. It’s in your blood.”

Alarm made her hand move brusquely and the food on her fork dropped down to her plate.

“What?”

Small doses in the future, he decided. 

“We can talk about it later.” 

“I want to talk about it now.”

“Too bad.” His smile was taunting. “Are you planning on fleeing?”

She glared at his refusal, defying eyes as ever. He shook his head lightly to indicate that she couldn’t coerce him with that stare. At last, she turned her attention to the food.

“What’s the point if you’ll find me? Besides, I have cases open. I’m not going to abandon my clients when I’m the best chance they’ve got at winning in court.” 

The detached manner in which she spoke made him narrow his eyes. She wasn’t lying, he knew that much but humans fled, they always did. Their survival instinct was too strong not to. Count Dracula swirled his tongue inside his mouth, trying to perceive an explanation to her reaction. He got what she called her “courtroom face” but he wasn’t satisfied by it. 

“You won’t run away?”

“Now it seems that you want me to. Should I go upstairs and pack a suitcase?”

“Try doing that and you won’t make more than two steps.”

“See,” she stated as she pointed her fork at him. “That’s why there is no point in running. You’ve given me my fate and while I would very much like to dispute it, I know when it’s a losing cause.”

“You disappoint me, dear,” he muttered.

“I said it was a losing cause, not a lost one,” she said, having another bite as a smile grew on her lips.  “I’ll make you a deal.”

The Count grinned and leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table. In his experience, it didn't matter how shrewd the deal proposed was, holes were bound to be there. And a deal coming from a lawyer should be exciting.

“Go on.”

“You’ll give me time to conclude my pending cases and in the meantime I won’t take new ones. I assume I won’t be able to practise law after I’m a vampire and I don’t want to leave loose ends behind.”

“Done.” 

“I’m not done. I want to listen and learn from you. Convince me immortality is worth it from your years of experience and I’ll consent to you drinking my blood. Until then, you keep your fangs to yourself.” She paused to give him a moment to protest but he remained quiet. “You’ll only turn me when I tell you to. I die on my terms.” 

She set her cutlery down, placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. 

“And if I can’t convince you that immortality is worth it?” He asked her.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“When? " He chuckled. "Isn’t it arrogant to think you’ve won already?”

“I wouldn’t be a good lawyer if I wasn’t a little arrogant.” She gave him a cheeky smile. “Have we got a deal?”

Her self-assuredness was back, squaring her shoulders and making her eyes gleam. In spite of his suspicion over the deal, it made him grin. 

Jack Seward’s stolen phone rang and the Count retrieved it from his pocket to see Lucy’s face lighting up the screen. He spared Y/N a glance and caught the look of confusion on her face upon noticing that that was clearly not the phone she’d given him. 

Dracula ignored the call and not one second later he received a text from Lucy. 

  R u skipping dinner 2nite?

  Therein lied the difference between Y/N and her. Lucy did not care about anything at all except the unfathomable desire to destroy herself by any means possible. She was in love with death long before they met. Count Dracula hadn’t fully grasped Y/N intentions with that deal but he knew it had nothing to do with a desire to die. She had a practical sense to go about life, he’d noticed it when she expressed that it didn’t matter whether she was afraid to die or not. A deal was a testament to that. 

“I’m afraid I must go,” he said as he typed a message for Lucy. 

He stood up and put away his phone. Y/N tipped her head back to look at him expectantly.

“Are you declining the deal?”

“No.” He stopped next to her. “I thought we could seal it with a kiss.”

She had a second to widen her eyes before he bent down and claimed her lips. A warm hand rested on his cheek instead of pushing him away and she opened her mouth to greet him access, even if for a second. She drew back breathlessly and gazed into his eyes.

“Done,” she said softly.

And then he was gone in a blur.

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