#v: fangs are fucking cool (vampire)

[fangswbenefits]

Book

Summary: Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Breeding kink. P in V. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Creampie. Overestimulation. Cumplay.

Word count: 1.7k

It wasn't unusual for you to find yourself on your back, knees bent and legs spread apart as Astarion's hand worked diligently in between them.

“You know… I came across this book in Rivington."

Two fingers rubbed slow yet measured circles between your slick folds. His dexterity truly shined through in these moments, as he lured you closer and closer to the edge of your sanity.

“A book?” 

“A most interesting book.”

His lips pressed lingering kisses across the exposed side of your neck, and you struggled to keep your eyes fixed on his hand.

He adored it when you watched him deliver unprecedented pleasure, and the sight was positively maddening with your wetness coating both his fingers as lewd sounds echoed in your ears.

The cluster of pillows strategically placed behind you aided you to take in the view more clearly, and you couldn't help but moan softly.

Suddenly, you jolted at the feeling of one fang raking across your sensitive skin. “What of it?”

“Do you really want to know, darling?”

His purring voice alone could edge you so effectively that you had to grip the bedsheets under you, balling your fists and silently praying to the gods above to help you stay grounded.

“Yes…” you moaned, eyes nearly fluttering shut.

Astarion quickly bfound your pulse point and planted an open-mouthed kiss.

Just bite me… 

That would surely be your undoing, but he merely chuckled and you felt him smile.

“It spoke of dhampirs - half-vampires.”

Gods…

The implication that dangled from his silky words wasn't particularly subtle and you found yourself clenching around nothing.

“It is not an easy feat, but with the right amount of dedication and… perseverance,” he punctuated each word with a roll of his fingers, drawing soft whimpers from you. “... I'm quite certain we can explore it.”

You clenched again, and your legs faltered, almost dropping from the chill that ran down your spine.

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “No, no, my sweet. Keep your focus and your legs up high for me.”

Astarion thrived on your pleasure and basked in your praises.

He was good.

He knew he was good.

And he wanted you to show him.

Stroking his ego was a sure way to get his complete devotion.

The throbbing between your legs intensified tenfold and you could see it swollen and peeking through your folds as he dragged his drenched fingers all the way up to your lower abdomen.

“What do you say?” He purred in your ear, massaging you tenderly.

Another agonising clench.

You parted your lips in search of a reply, but the words died in your mouth at the sight of his fingers spreading your wetness across your skin.

“Well? Will you let me breed you?”

His crude words had you gripping the fabric in your hands tighter, and you wondered how much longer until it finally tore.

“Astarion…”

Slowly but surely, you felt something prickling at the skin on the back of your hand.

It was slightly cool and you needn't need to look to know his cock was leaking precum.

Just for you.

The liquid began dribbling down your skin as he began pressing soft kisses along your jawline.

Silently, he grabbed your hand until your fingers instinctively wrapped around his hardening cock.

And then he hissed.

“Tighter,” he urged, placing his hand atop yours to squeeze down hard. “You're tighter than this…” he finished with a sigh.

This time, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as you rolled your hips in desperation.

He fucked your hand slowly, occasionally bringing your thumb to swipe across his tip, earning delicious and urgent moans from him.

Your breathing quickened and you felt the mattress shift under you as he carefully slid his cock from your grip, positioning himself on top of you.

“Eyes on me.”

You took a deep and shaky breath and your gaze dropped to witness an elegant finger disappear inside you.

A swift gasp escaped your throat and you couldn't stop yourself from clenching around him.

The corner of his mouth quirked up in an approving smile. “So eager…”

You were mesmerised by how he so easily slid a second one, the wet sounds nearly doing it for you.

He shifted until his cool lips were on yours, nipping at the lower one with the razor-like fang, easily drawing blood and gently suckling on the bruised flesh. 

Your back arched when he removed both fingers from you before pressing his cock at your entrance.

By this point, you were too soaked to offer any resistance as he slowly sank into you.

You broke the kiss first, greedily looking in between your bodies just so you could watch his cock slide in and out, bulging veins glistening with your wetness.

“Enjoying the view, darling?”

You bit down on your lip, tasting your own blood as you nodded through half-hooded eyes. 

Countless sweet rolls of his hips pushed you further and further along the inevitable precipice, and the familiar coiling and throbbing had your mouth drop open, unable to rein in your spilling whimpers.

He dipped his head to glide his tongue across your lower lip, both his arms caging you in and allowing him to angle his hips so he could sink fully into you.

You were visibly pulsing, your folds parted slightly, and his gaze soon followed yours.

A guttural grunt rumbled in his throat. “Let go, darling… and let me feel you tightening around me.”

You gripped his arms, bracing yourself for the impending wave of overwhelming bliss that took over your entire body, and through gasps and pants and moans, you plunged down the spiral of bliss.

A distant groan from Astarion was heard as your vision blurred, powerful contractions rippling through your lower half.

He was mumbling something, but you couldn't make out a single word, far too lost in your high to focus on anything else.

You felt his lips on your neck and you threw your head back, offering it fully to him.

As the waves of your contractions finally subsided, you came back to your senses, trying hard to even out your laboured breathing.

He was still buried deep inside you.

Had he come with you?

The answer came when his fangs began prodding the skin along your pulse point, as if barely containing himself.

He had yet to reach his peak.

“Can you give me another one?”

Your eyes widened and you struggled to form coherent words. “I… I don't… know.”

He brought one hand to grip your knee, pushing your leg against your torso, and spreading you further apart for him.

The pace he had set was contained and slow, a constant reminder that he yearned for his own release.

His tongue darted out to swipe across your flushed skin, and you turned your head, granting him easier access.

“Use your words.”

You swallowed, gasping from how oversensitive you suddenly felt from the constant friction in between your legs.

“Please…” you could only bring yourself to plead. 

His fangs taunted the fragile barrier of your skin, but not with enough pressure to draw blood.

“Use. Your. Words.” He rasped impatiently, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips.

You brought your hands to his chest, feeling the taut muscles tense under your touch. 

“Bite me…”

The sharp sting had you grip him hard, his hardened nipples digging into the palms of your hands.

As soon as he got to control the flow of your blood, he quickly matched the rolls of his hips with each mouthful of warm liquid he downed.

Your senses were full of him.

Filled with him.

Dragging on hand to settle on his throat, you moaned as you felt him under your palm, eagerly swallowing your blood.

It didn't take long before his skin began to heat up against yours, and you could almost swear you felt his cock hardening even more inside you.

His pace didn't falter. If anything, he was simply indulging in the newfound vigour that only your blood coursing through his body could provide.

Wanting to further tease him, you circled his nipple with the pad of your thumb, earning an approving grunt.

The crescendo of pleasure began to throb deep within you with each passing moment, and you felt him take one of your hands in his, dragging it down to settle where his body connected with yours.

He slid out just enough for your fingers to trace along the bulging and pulsing veins that slithered around his cock.

He quickly withdrew from your neck with a low, rumbling groan, his handsome face hovering yours, droplets of blood dripping from his lips onto yours, which you quickly swiped clean with your tongue, tasting the metallic aftertaste.

You kept teasing his nipple, feeding your own pleasure from how responsive he was.

Astarion was about to come undone, and you realised that having your blood dripping down his chin and neck, was enough to catapult you steadily yet rapidly into the heights of your own pleasure.

Your eyes watched his face twist beautifully as he reached his peak, mouth dropping agape in a raging growl that made you shudder.

Under the touch of your fingers, you felt the underside of his cock spasm rhythmically as he emptied himself inside you.

It was too much.

You felt some of his cum overflowing and staining your fingers, and you immediately dragged them to the pulsing swell between your folds, coating it in the warm liquid and gasping as the violent wave of bliss had you contracting around him.

Astarion buried his face in the crook of your neck as he cursed and whimpered and pleaded for you to have mercy on him.

You truly wished you could grant him such relief, but you were far too gone to be of any comfort as both of you rode out your peak.

With a final grunt from him and a moan from you, he slumped against you, cock still buried deep.

You pressed a hand to the back of his head, slipping your fingers along his damp and soft curls, cradling him in your embrace.

“Just so we're clear,” you began in between pants. “What are the chances of this actually happening?”

He didn't reply right away, instead pressing his lips to the bite marks on your neck, cleaning up the mess.

“Not that high, I reckon?” You managed to chuckle, raking your fingers along his scalp.

“Not high at all.”

Just as you had suspected.

“But we're so used to turning the impossible into possible, that I can't see why this should be any different.”

Oh.

Oh.

A/N: I'm... sorry.... hahaha

Masterlist

[luvsupa]

BUT YOU’RE A …VAMPIRE?!

terrible summary: fucking the towns hottest college student—a bonus. . . he’s a vampire!

tags: vampire!choso x fem!reader, choso and reader are in college, reader babysits yuji, heavily inspired by tvd 🙂‍↕️, lowkey long before smut scene sorryyy, smut (p in v), face sitting, mating press, blōod play, sqūirting, feral choso, sub!choso (a little), hes insanely fast and strong, errmm idk what else, mdni

w.c: 2.3k

a/n: 1. TY GUYS FOR 1.5K ???? THIS IS INSANEEE, 2. I hope u guys enjoy bc this is my first kinktober so I hope I satisfy y’all 🧟‍♀️

kinktober masterlist

“this movie’s not even scary,” yuji mutters from under the blankets, trying to hide the tremble in his voice. he begged you to play halloween, the most gruesome movie you’ve ever seen. maybe it wasn’t the best idea for a teenage boy—he’d probably have nightmares—but you just wanted him to stop whining. you giggle as he shrieks when michael myers catches a screaming woman, his eyes glued to the screen despite his words.

suddenly, the movie pauses, and you glance up from your phone, wondering why. “can you do my halloween makeup now? megumi’s coming soon, and we’re going trick-or-treating,” yuji asks, hopeful. you sigh internally, not because of him, but because this isn’t how you planned to spend your halloween. midterms are next week, and you haven’t even started studying!

you nod, grabbing your makeup bag already packed with halloween supplies. yuji sits in the dining room—where the lighting is better—facing the television. he’s jumpy as the movie resumes, flinching at every scare, ruining the makeup more than once. you’re just applying fake blood to his mouth to piece together the vampire look when the front door slams open, the sound deafening. you both scream, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the source.

choso.

you nearly drop the makeup brush, fake blood splattering the polished floor. choso’s laughter echoes through the room, and you stare at him in shock, your heart racing from the scare—and the sight of him. you haven’t seen him in nearly a year since he moved abroad for school. you thought your crush on him had faded, but now, seeing him again…he’s even more attractive. more buff. and is he dressed as a vampire? how fitting for the brothers.

choso brings in, a beautiful girl trailing behind him, her expression uneasy. you notice something odd—they’re matching.

“that wasn’t funny, choso,” yuji grumbles, pushing him away when choso messes up his slicked-back hair. but your attention is elsewhere, drawn to choso’s costume. the fangs look too real, and dried blood stains the corners of his lips. your stomach twists with unease.

“hey, choso, your costume is… really cool,” you manage to say, your voice catching as his gaze locks onto yours. his eyes—there’s a tint of red. it feels like he’s staring straight through you, searching for something deeper. and then, you notice the girl again, her pale complexion, her exhausted, haunted look.

and her neck.

multiple bite marks—no, fang marks—line her skin, and you swear you see blood trickling from one of them. who in the hell did their makeup?

“costume? oh no, we’re not—”

“teenage versions of dracula and draculara,” choso cuts in coldly, his gaze never leaving yours. your heart pounds, the tension in the room thickening. you know what dracula looks like and it’s not what he’s wearing.

the movie continues playing in the background as it fades into nothing. choso’s lips twitch as he stares at your neck, his eyes darkening when they land on the pulsing vein just beneath the surface. you feel a lump form in your throat, and yuji shifts awkwardly between you both, oblivious to the growing danger.

without another word, choso snaps out of it, pulling the girl upstairs in a hurry. loud, frantic footsteps echo as the door slams shut behind them. you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

after finishing yuji’s costume, the movie mercifully ends. you take a few photos of yuji with his plastic vampire fangs before megumi and nobara arrive in matching outfits. they thank you, and with a final warning to stay close to the block, you send them off. at last, you’re alone—ready to relax.

but when you return to the dining room, your peace is shattered. the mess from the makeup is worse than you remembered, and you groan. you huff as you start cleaning up, scrubbing the floor and tossing used brushes into the nearby sink. and then, you feel it.

someone’s watching you.

you freeze, a chill running down your spine. slowly, you turn around, your heart racing, and nearly scream again. choso is leaning against the staircase, his dark eyes fixed on you, an unsettling smile tugging at his lips.

“gosh, choso, you scared me,” you exclaim, clutching the counter for support.

“no need to be scared,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous as he walks closer following you into the kitchen. “i was just… admiring the view.”

heat rushes to your cheeks, but there’s a sinister edge to his words that makes you uneasy. still, you mutter a soft “pervert,” hoping to shake off the tension. but choso hears you clearly, his dark chuckle sending shivers down your spine.

you walk to the dirty dishes as you start cleaning up the previous mess, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread as he offers to help, standing too close for comfort. his presence is suffocating, his body radiating cold as he dries each dish you hand him. “so… you got a boyfriend?” he asks bluntly, and your breath catches.

“no… i’ve been busy with school,” you stammer, your heart pounding in your chest. his lips curl into a smirk, and you hear him whisper, “good girl.”

your knees weaken, and you squeeze your thighs together, feeling a surge of warmth between your legs. he knows. he can smell it. your mind spins as you struggle to focus on washing the dishes. when your hand accidentally brushes his, the icy coldness jolts you, your breath hitching.

you glance at him through the window in front of the sink. dread pooling in your stomach. no way…

the fangs. the eyes. the ice cold touch.

he’s a—

“c’monnn, you’re letting the water run too long,” choso interrupts, snapping you back to reality. you quickly apologize, shaking off the thought as you rinse off the next dirty dish. holding a tiny kitchen knife, you stare at your reflection in the window. choso stands impatiently, waiting for you to hurry up. biting your lip, you rinse the knife, but just before you hand it to him, you ‘accidentally’ slice the tip of your finger.

you watch the way his eyes darken, his pupils dilating as veins bulge beneath his skin. his lips part, his fangs elongating as he watches your blood dribble down with the almost animalistic hunger.

panic grips you and instinct kicks in, and you sprint for the front door, tears stinging your eyes, terrified of ending up like the victims in the horror movies. you twist the doorknob, but choso is suddenly in front of you, covering your mouth with his hand as he dragging you back inside, the door slams behind you with a deafening thud.

“shh, baby…I know, ’m not gonna hurt you,” choso whispers, his voice rough as he coaxes you to the couch. you tremble, tears blurring your vision.

“cho… you’re a—a vampire?” you manage to choke out, the words feeling unreal in your mouth. choso nods, his eyes fixed on the blood still oozing from your finger. something inside you shifts, your fear dissolving as something darker takes over.

fuck it.

“you want it, cho’?” you murmur, lifting your finger to his lips, smearing your blood across them. his eyes roll back, his fangs glistening as he lets out a desperate moan, his hunger consuming him.

you lean closer, your voice a seductive whisper, “then take it.”

and oh did you truly mess up. badly.

choso had never tasted anything as sweet and addicting as you—the sweetest he’s ever known since his transformation into a vampire. that’s why he has you sitting on his face, your pussy suffocating him as his icy hands pull you deeper against his mouth. your thighs tremble on either side of his head, fingers gripping the armrest for support. your eyes roll back as his slick tongue plunges deep into your pulsing walls, his nose brushing against your swollen clit.

“ch-cho’. . slow d-down..” you wail, trying to pull away from his inhuman tongue—but he growls. the wet, messy sounds of slurping and groans fill your ears as you’re losing yourself on his tongue. you can’t help it—you start grinding even deeper into his face, chasing that high as he hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. your nails dig into the armrest, knuckles white, as you glance down with glazed eyes—his brows are furrowed, veins pulsing under his skin, soft brown hair that was once tied up now sprawled wildly across the couch.

he’s slurping you up like you’re his last meal, completely lost in the taste of you. it’s like you’ve got him under some kind of spell, and he can’t stop. he pulls you deeper into his face until you’re sure you’ll break. your thighs shake uncontrollably, your stomach tightening as you feel your orgasm slam into you, broken cries spilling from your lips, soaking his tongue in your release.

“mmf— ‘m gonna—”

“not yet,” choso commands, lifting you off his face and tossing you flat on your back with a rough ‘oof’ escaping your lips. your mind is too foggy to register anything as he grabs your ankles, placing them on either side of his shoulders. your cunt spasms uncontrollably, slick dripping down as you whimper, watching him grip the base of his thick cock. his chubby tip parts your swollen folds, sliding up and down your dripping slit, teasing your twitching hole, not giving you what you desperately need. your gaze locks with his, and your heart skips a beat—his eyes fixed on the pulsing vein in your neck, his mouth trembling as his fangs grow longer.

“hahh— I need a t-taste,” he moans, the whites of his eyes turning black as he repeats the same words, over and over, to himself. before you can even respond, he slams into you, balls-deep, a broken sob tearing from your throat he’s stretching you so wide it hurts so good as his thick crown head bullies your sweet spot. your whole body jiggles with each brutal thrust, clenching down hard as his cock stretches you abnormally wide. he’s lost in the feeling, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you swear he’s leaving bruises, all while he keeps mumbling to himself, lost in a frenzy.

he’s completely feral, growling with every thrust, eyes locked on your neck like he’s about to tear into you, his cock stretching you wide as your body shakes from the sheer force of his inhumane thrusts.

“y-yes… cho’, have a t-taste,” you stutter, tilting your head to the side, exposing the throbbing vein he’s been eyeing with hunger. his eyes gleam with feral desire as he leans down, his thick cock still relentlessly jackhammering deep inside you. 

he groans into your neck, inhaling your scent, and your shaking hands pull him closer, legs wrapping tight around his waist, locking him in as your eyes roll back. the sharp sting of his fangs sinking deep into your neck pulls a guttural moan from you, his mouth latched onto your skin as he drinks, each slurp sending electric shocks through your body. his thrusts become erratic, vicious, slamming into your poor cervix as he drinks greedily from you.

“s-such a good vampire,” you pant, praising him as he pulls away from your neck, rising up to look at you—and fuck, he’s completely lost in it. his blacked-out eyes, mouth hanging open, dripping with blood, his chin smeared in a mess of fluids. his monstrous look beyond attractive you don’t even think—you grab him by the face and yank him down to your lips, moaning as the metallic tang of your blood touches your tongue. your lips move against his hungrily, tasting the mix of your blood and his spit as he pounds into your sloppy, swollen cunt that grips him so tight it’s driving him crazy. his thrusts become more brutal, more desperate, his cock throbbing as you cling to him, completely helpless under his inhuman strength.

he pulls away from the kiss with a growl, leaving you breathless, licking your lips as the taste of blood lingers. with no warning, choso grabs your thighs and folds you in half—ankles pressed right up against your ears. he fucks you deeper, so deep you swear he’s going to break you, every thrust harder, more punishing than the last as you whimper and sob beneath him.

“fuckkk— pussy’s suckin’ the s-soul outta me,” he groans, forcing your thighs deeper into your chest, bending you in half like you’re nothing. all you can do is take it, your body completely at his mercy, trembling under his brutal, inhuman pace. his cock pounds into you relentlessly, each thrust sending shockwaves through your entire body, your mind turning into a haze of desperate moans and babbled pleas.

and then, it hits—your orgasm slams into you, hard and fast, like a wave crashing over you. eyes rolling back as your walls clamp down around him, milking his cock, spasming so hard you’re seeing stars. your legs shake uncontrollably as you feel the hot rush of your release soaking both of you, dripping down your thighs, adding to the messy slick between your bodies. you’re screaming, but it’s incoherent—just broken sobs and moans, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure ripping through you.

choso feels it too, your pussy squeezing him so tight he can barely move, and with a deep growl, he spills inside you, thick, hot ropes of cum filling you to the brim. you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you so full that it starts to leak out, your stomach bulging slightly from how much he’s pumped into you. your whole body trembles, completely spent, as your cunt flutters around him, milking every last drop.

“heyy pretty, c’mon—wake up,” choso coos, giving your swollen, throbbing cunt a hard slap. the impact makes you jolt, and the wet, sticky sound echoes through the living room as your mixed juices splatter everywhere, slick covering your lower stomach and seeping into the couch. broken moans slip past your lips, your eyes fluttering open just in time to see him towering over you, his cock still hard and dripping with cum, more spilling from his tip.

“we’re nowhere near done.” 

[dark-moonlust]

A Vampire’s Lust

Pairing: vampire x fem human reader

Summary: You are washing your face in the bathroom wearing only a bra and panties when your vampire mate gets so aroused by it that he takes you against the sink, fangs sinking into your neck.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v sex, well-endowed 🍆, vampire bites, lots 💦.

This is the full one-shot. It was posted first on Patreon as my patrons get early access to my Tumblr posts!

Enjoy!! If it isn’t too much, I’d love to hear if you liked it! 🖤

Dressed only in a lacy black bra and matching panties, you leaned over the sink, washing your face. You rarely wore makeup but you were adamant about taking care of your skin. Your boyfriend was a vampire after all, so you had to keep up with his flawless complexion. The cool water felt refreshing as you rinsed away the remnants of soap. You patted your face dry then carefully applied your face products.

You smiled when you caught your boyfriend into the room, leaning against the doorframe, his red eyes studying you, lingering on the curve of your ass and the swell of your breasts. He always moved so quietly but, after two years of dating, you were almost used to it. Wearing only a black pajama pants, he looked ravishing. Tall, lean and muscular, with a symmetrical face and concave jawline. He had short dark hair and a bold captivating gaze.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said as he approached, his voice a husky whisper. He pressed behind you, his naked chest against your back, his hands sliding around your waist to rest on your stomach. His lips brushed against your ear, then down your shoulder, kissing over the strap of your bra.

You shivered, your nipples hardening under the thin fabric of your bra.

“Aww, look at them,” he cooed, his fingers circling your buds over the lace bra. “They’re constricted. Poor babies. Let’s free them.”

With a skillful move, he unclasped your bra and tossed it away. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he cupped your tits, his big hands, feeling up their weight, thumbs toying with the hard tips. He looked at you through the mirror as his hands roamed over your body, caressing your curves and making you gasp.

Most vampires couldn’t see their reflections because mirrors were traditionally backed with silver and that revoked their images. But your mirror was custom-made and free from silver because your mate had a perverse delight in fucking you in front of it and watching your reactions.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He leaned in, his fangs grazing your neck as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties. “You’ve taken over my cold heart and fired it up.”

“You have taken hold of my heart, too,” you whispered, your head collapsing on his chest as he tugged down your panties. You wiggled your hips, shimming them off then gasped when a cool finger toyed with the seam of your pussy.

“Soaked for me,” he purred, his voice thick with arousal.

A gasp was torn from you when his thumb found your clit, rubbing it in slow, languid circles. Your hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more. But his hold on you was secure, his arms like bands around you, his eyes looking at you through the glass, dark with desire.

“Please,” you whined, trying to get more friction. “I need you.”

“I’ll fuck you, mate. Here in front of the mirror.”

“You horny vamp,” you teased, hands fumbling for purchase on the sink. “You do that almost every day.”

“I love watching you writhe and cum around my cock.”

To prove his point, he lifted your leg and took in the sight of your glistening cunt and his fingers teasing your plump folds. “Pretty cunt. Want to fucking ruin it.”

With a swift motion, he was bending you over the sink, sinking to his knees, his tongue eating out your cunt. You cried out, hands gripping the edge of the basin as he licked and sucked like a man possessed, loud moans and slurping sounds echoing in the small bathroom. His fingers added to the game, drawing apart your outer labia, his tongue finding the hood of your clit and flicking repeatedly.

“Ahn! Close… so close—”

You very nearly screamed when he stood up and slapped your ass. You heard clothes shuffling, then felt him slapping his thick cock against your soaking wet entrance. He leaned in, his body curling behind you, his fangs sinking into your neck as he thrust into you, filling you in one smooth glide. You saw stars and came hard, pleasure and pain blending in and driving you wild.

Snapping his hips, he fucked you through your orgasm, hard and fast. His fangs popped from your skin, his tongue licking up the blood. Your whole body rocked with his thrusts, pussy clenching with little aftershocks. Then he decided he wanted to change the view, so he lifted you up, his hands under your knees, his cock plugged up inside you.

“Feet on the sink, baby,” he instructed and you did so, even if you were dazed and pleasure-fucked. “Good girl. Lean back against me. Want to see you pretty pussy dripping all over my cock.”

You whimpered and leaned back, your legs spread wide, pussy fully bared to him. Planting your feet firmly— thankfully the sink was sturdy enough— you rocked against him. He gave steady upward thrusts, the angle intense, every thrust deep and toe-curling. Your tits bounced with every powerful pump and he immediately cupped them, pinching and tugging your poor nipples. His eyes remained locked on yours in the mirror, watching everything.

“Fuuuuck, look at you,” he breathed against your neck. “So fucking perfect. Mine. All mine.”

You could only nod, breathless and desperate to cum again. He was so big and powerful behind you, his cock stretching your pussy wide and coming out frothing with your juices. And you could do nothing but hold onto him, no match for his strength. The sight of him made you wild and you felt your second orgasm building, your pussy warming with pressure.

“Come for me,” he commanded, pounding into you. “I want to feel you shatter around my cock.”

That was all it took.

With a silent scream you came, your pussy clenching and unclenching around his girth, waves of pleasure assailing you. He growled and kept fucking you through your climax. Relentlessly fast and deep. Ripples of bliss traveled through your body. You could no longer use your legs to rock against him. Your knees were weak with pleasure, your pussy on fire.

Realizing that, he held you from under the knees, lifting you in the air as he moved you up and down on his rigid cock. You thrashed and whimpered when his fangs sunk into your neck, deeper this time. His cock buried to the hilt inside you, tongue suckling your blood as he flooded you with his cum. It was too much, it overflowed your cunt and dribbled down your thighs and on the tiled floor.

You could everything through the mirror. The sight was deliciously lewd.

For long moments, the only sounds were your soft whimpers and his ragged breaths. His fangs retracted and you sighed when he started kissing the bite marks on your neck. He was still holding you in the air, his cock still-hard inside you. And he didn’t seem inclined to let go of your warmth just yet. He carried you to the bed, like his little cocksleeve and pressed you down on the mattress, face down, ass up. He kissed your neck again and the marks he’d left there and resumed fucking you, slower this time.

It was a long night, filled with sex, moans and whispers of affection.

He took you in every position until you were a spent, pleasure drunk mess.

Only when you were bathed in his cum did he lull you to sleep, his possessive instincts abated.

[hellinistical]

Priest! Vampire! Rafayel x Nun! Reader synopsis: when a charming new priest is sent to your convent amidst the winter freeze, you're naturally untrusting. unfortunately, he's more knowledgeable of the faith, and you could learn a thing or two, especially if you want to protect yourself from the recent vampire attacks. trigger warnings: (heavy plot!). minor and major character death, blood, dubious consent, sacrilegious themes (Not Christianity or Catholicism; made up religion but using synonymous terms), gore, porn with plot, fingering (fem. receiving), hand jobs, piv, non-consensual vampire transformation, bodily horror, drinking blood, playing with blood, human consumption, unwilling cannibalism, afab reader- usage of female anatomy (though not descriptive of size/skin markings). fem. reader- she/her used. biting. choking. manipulation. blasphemy. overstimulation. virgin reader. corruption. monster fucking. slight belly bulge, bondage. incorrect use of holy water. wax play. this list may expand and/or altered. trigger warnings: (for this chapter.) afab. fem reader. implied pregnancy. period sex. piv. wax play. incorrect use of holy water. fingering (fem receiving), biting. overstimulation. corruption. virgin reader. non-con. dubious consent. hate sex. vampire transformation (though not explicit, just implied, and not in standard means; I took creative liberty). blood. slight belly buldge. major character deaths. spit. a:/n:this piece holds no actual religious scripture or quotes, I just needed those terms as they were synonymous. This is in NO WAY a jab at those faiths nor is it meant to spread hate or harm to them. It is also not an insult to those who practice. I tried to write with care, which yeah may be hypocritical of what I have here, so I apologize. Additionally, thank you to everyone who voted in the poll. While it was originally intended to be a one-shot, I felt it would be better to break it into chunks as this is very plot-heavy. Thank you for your support! Reblogs are highly appreciated. word count: 6.1k masterlist | prev.

V. Trasformazione

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark"

It’s all-consuming, how he seems to swallow the oxygen before you can breathe. Like he’s taking it straight from your lungs, leaving you lightheaded, weak. His hands are everywhere, mapping you, learning you, claiming you in ways you don’t know if you should allow—but you do.

The tree digs into your back, rough and unyielding, but his body is just as unrelenting. His lips drag along your jaw, down your throat, his breath hot against your skin. A shudder wracks through you as his teeth graze your pulse, and he lingers there, as if tasting your heartbeat.

His fingers tighten their grip. "You’re mine," he murmurs against your skin, voice low and raw. It’s not a question. It’s not a request. It’s a vow.

Your stomach hurts, the cramps from your cycle gnawing at you, twisting in sharp, unforgiving waves. Your body burns, the feverish heat meeting his coldness in a clash that sends a shiver up your spine—a mess of sensation, of discomfort, of something deeper you refuse to name.

You turn your head away, not because you want to, but because you can’t bear to look. His breath ghosts over your exposed throat, his grip firm, possessive, unrelenting. You feel his lips press there, lingering, and it only makes the ache inside you worse, different.

A breath shudders from you, and you hate how weak it sounds. His fingers flex against your skin, and you feel the sharp edge of his teeth as he hums in something like satisfaction.

“You’re burning up,” he murmurs against your throat, his tone almost gentle. Almost. “Poor thing.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You hate him.

His fangs graze your skin but never sink in, lingering like a silent threat—or maybe a promise. His breath is cool against the feverish heat of your neck, sending a shudder through your already trembling body.

Then, his hands are on you, pulling your leg up and around his waist, pressing you closer until there’s no space left between you. The motion is seamless, practiced, like he’s done it a thousand times before. Like he’s meant to hold you like this.

And it’s humiliating.

Your nightgown is thin, ruined, sticky with blood, the fabric barely clinging to your form. You’re exposed—more than you’ve ever been, more than you should be. And yet, the very sight of you like this seems to draw him in more.

His fingers press into the flesh of your thigh, his breath hitching. "Messy little thing," he murmurs, voice rough, reverent. His lips trail the line of your jaw, slow, deliberate. "Do you know what you do to me?"

You don't want to know. You don’t want to feel the way your body reacts, the way the fever in your veins has nothing to do with your cycle anymore.

You press your hands against his chest—whether to push him away or pull him closer, you don’t even know.

His lips press against your collarbone, soft yet insistent, his breath cool against your heated skin. The way he inhales deeply, savoring your scent, makes your stomach twist—not just in fear, but something else, something raw and unfamiliar.

"Wait—wait, Rafayel—I don’t—I don’t get it." Your voice trembles, caught between confusion and something dangerously close to surrender.

He shushes you gently, his hands smoothing over your waist, his touch both possessive and reverent. "You don’t have to," he murmurs against your skin, voice thick with something deeper than want. "You just need to feel it."

You shudder, your fingers twitching against his chest. He’s cold, so unbearably cold, yet his presence is suffocatingly warm. Every nerve in your body is on fire, your pulse hammering, your breaths short and uneven.

You should push him away.

You should run.

But Astra above, you can’t move.

His eyes flicker down to the deep crimson staining your nightgown, pupils blown so wide they nearly swallow the color of his irises. His chest rises and falls sharply, unsteady, his fingers twitching where they grip your waist.

And yet—his expression twists. Something raw flickers across his face, something tangled between hunger and revulsion.

Not at you.

At himself.

He looks away, jaw tightening, his grip faltering for just a second. His breath comes sharp through his nose, as if he’s trying to will himself into control.

A muscle jumps in his jaw. "Damn it," he mutters, voice tight, nearly shaking. His fingers flex against you like he’s about to let go—like he should let go.

But he doesn’t.

You barely have time to react before his grip tightens—hard.

“Jump.”

Your breath catches. “Jump?”

“Jump, damn it.” His voice is sharp, urgent, commanding.

His hands slide down, gripping the backs of your thighs. He hoists you up with inhuman ease, your legs scrambling for balance around his waist. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your heartbeat hammering against your ribs.

He presses you hard against the tree, the rough bark biting into your back. His face is so close now, too close, his breath mingling with yours, cool and sharp. His hands flex against your legs, his grip possessive, unyielding.

Rafayel's hands are ironclad around your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin, pinning you where he wants you. The pressure is bruising, possessive. He isn’t just holding you; he’s claiming you.

The air is thick, damp with the scent of earth and blood. Your blood. It clings to you, drying into the fabric of your nightgown, and you can feel how his eyes linger on the stains. His pupils are blown wide, black nearly swallowing the eerie glow of his irises. His breath fans against your jaw, cool and sharp, but his body is burning.

"Tree or the grass." His voice is low, firm. Not a question. A command. "Hurry up."

You grip his shoulders, nails biting into the fabric of his robe. The tree behind you is rough, its bark scraping against your spine as you shift in his grasp, trying to steady yourself. But it’s useless. He’s already made the choice

He holds you up with one hand, your legs around his waist as he undoes the zipper of your nightgown, pulling it down swiftly. 

The nightgown pools around your hips, the weight of it dragging against your thighs as Rafayel's cold fingers skim over your ribs. Your breasts free, the cold air on your exposed nipples makes them harden. His touch is reverent, but there’s nothing holy about it. The moonlight barely reaches through the dense canopy above, casting fractured beams of silver across his face. His expression is unreadable—somewhere between hunger and hesitation, worship and possession.

“You look divine like this,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, almost awed. His thumb presses into the dip of your waist as if to test the reality of you. As if he doesn’t believe you’re real.

The night air chills your exposed skin, but you burn beneath it, a fever licking at your spine. Your blood, your scent—it’s making him tremble. You can feel it in the way his grip falters for a moment before he steadies himself, locking you tighter against him.

His grip tightens as the scent thickens, as the warmth of it seeps into the fabric of his trousers. He shudders, a groan tearing from deep within his throat, something raw and starved.

His fingers flex against your hips, betraying his restraint, the barely-contained need that trembles beneath the surface. He exhales sharply, like he's forcing himself to remember something—like he's fighting the very nature that compels him to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your throat.

"Mine."

The word isn’t spoken, but you feel it in the way his body tenses, in the way his fingers dig just a little too hard into your sides, like he’s trying to brand himself into you. His breath is uneven now, and you realize—with something close to horror, close to exhilaration—that he’s shaking.

His head dips lower, mouth pressing just beneath your ear. “You’re going to ruin me,” he murmurs, almost reverent. His lips are cold, but his voice burns.

Your hands are firm on his chest, trying to push him off, 

“Stop- stop, I’m dirty,”

He doesn’t budge. If anything, your resistance only seems to ignite something deeper in him, something far more desperate.

His hands trace your thighs, smearing warmth into your skin, fingers painting patterns in the mess of crimson and sweat. His grip is firm but reverent, like he's touching something sacred, something he refuses to let slip through his fingers.

"You don't get to be ashamed," he breathes against your jaw, his voice shaking with something dark and unspoken. "Not from me."

You shudder, your fingers curling against the fabric of his shirt. “Rafayel—”

“I don’t care.” His lips brush your temple, your cheek, his breath fanning hot over your ear. His voice lowers, dark and hushed, almost mournful. “I would bathe in you if you'd let me.”

He grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to make eye contact. He looks utterly feral. “I want to be in you. I need it. In your skin. In your very soul.”

His lips crash against yours, not with brutal force, but with a yearning so deep it feels like he’s trying to devour something unseen, something hidden inside you. The kiss is desperate, frantic. It’s not just want—it’s need. A need that claws at him, that shakes his very foundation.

His grip tightens, fingers digging into your flesh with an urgency that borders on bruising. His palm presses into the small of your back, pulling you flush against him—your soft warmth clashing against the hard, unyielding chill of his body. His breath, cool and fanning across your lips, mingles with your own, the contrast dizzying.

His mouth moves against yours with a hunger that leaves no room for hesitation, lips parting just enough for his teeth to graze your lower lip—sharp, teasing, just barely holding back from drawing blood. The press of his fangs sends a shiver down your spine.

Your nightgown slips further  down and bunches up more as he tugs at the fabric, his fingers tracing up the length of your spine, nails dragging lightly, leaving a tingling trail of sensation. His free hand moves down, skimming over your thigh before gripping it, pulling your leg higher against his waist. The rough friction of his clothes against your bare skin sends a jolt of sensation up your body.

He shifts, pressing forward, pinning you against the tree with his body weight. The bark bites into your back, a stark contrast to the way his hands explore your skin, cold and burning all at once.

"I—" A kiss, deep and forceful, swallowing any protest you might have had.

"Hate—" His hands tighten, fingers bruising against your skin, as if trying to mold you into him, make you stay, make you his.

"You—" He bites your lip this time, just enough to sting, and you gasp into his mouth.

And despite everything—the fear, the confusion, the war between sense and something darker—you kiss him back.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, slow and deliberate, tasting the remnants of your breath. His grip tightens around your waist, pressing you flush against him. The rough bark of the tree digs into your back, but you barely register the sting—your senses drown in the feeling of him.

Rafayel’s tongue pushes past your lips, hot and insistent, swirling against yours in a messy, feverish dance. He doesn’t kiss with precision—he kisses with hunger, his movements uncoordinated yet consuming, like a man starved.

Saliva slicks your lips, the wet sounds of your mouths moving together filling the night air. He groans into the kiss, a deep, guttural noise vibrating against your tongue as he sucks at it, pulling you deeper into him. His teeth graze against your lower lip, nipping and tugging before soothing the sting with another deep, open-mouthed kiss.

Your breaths are ragged, mingling with his as he swallows every gasp, every whimper. His fingers dig into your hips, keeping you locked against him, refusing to let you pull away. His tongue moves greedily, exploring, claiming, savoring every inch of your mouth. The kiss is hot, messy, intoxicating—his spit coats your lips, mixing with your own, leaving you breathless and lightheaded.

When he finally pulls back, a thin string of saliva connects your mouths, breaking only when he licks his lips, his eyes dark and hooded with desire.

“Gods-” His palm is firm, pressing against your lips as his eyes darken. "Don’t," he repeats, voice low, almost dangerous. His fingers linger against your cheek, the coolness of his skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your own.

His grip tightens slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you—he is in control. His breath is heavy, ragged, his pupils blown wide as he watches you, drinking in every detail of your flushed face.

For a moment, there’s only silence, the weight of his hand against your mouth the only thing grounding you. Then, slowly, deliberately, he leans in, his lips just ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"Do not speak of them here."

The weight of his body against yours is suffocating, his grip unrelenting. His thumb brushes over your cheek, deceptively gentle, a stark contrast to the feral hunger in his gaze. "You’re mine now," he breathes, his lips hovering just above your skin. "No gods. No saints. Just me."

His teeth graze your jaw, sharp but restrained, a warning and a promise all at once. His grip tightens at your waist, pressing you further into the rough bark of the tree, as if he could mold you into the very world around him—an extension of his own being.

"You feel that?" he murmurs against your skin, his breath cool but his presence searing. "That’s the only thing that’s real now. Me. Us."

His fingers trace along the dip of your spine, slow, deliberate, memorizing every shudder, every unwilling response he draws from you. He’s reveling in it, in the way your body betrays you, in the way your heartbeat hammers against his own.

"Say it," he demands, his lips brushing just below your ear. His voice is steady, but there’s something almost desperate beneath it. "Tell me you understand."

His mouth finds the pulse at your throat, lingering there, savoring, but never quite sinking in. His hands roam, gripping, kneading, learning the shape of you as if carving it into memory.

You try to focus—on his words, on his demand—but it’s impossible when his teeth drag along your skin, when his hands press you tighter against him, when every touch pulls you deeper into something dark and inescapable.

"Rafayel—" you manage, but it’s breathless, barely a whisper.

He chuckles against your skin, the sound low, wicked. "You can’t even think, can you?" His fingers slide up to tangle in your hair, tilting your head back so you're forced to meet his eyes. They gleam with something unhinged, something hungry. "Good."

He lays you down before you realize. 

The earth is rough beneath you, twigs and dead leaves pressing into your skin, but it barely registers over the sensation of him. His lips ghost over your sternum, his breath warm despite the unnatural chill of his body.

His hands slide down your sides, slow, deliberate, as if savoring every inch of you. The contrast between his cold fingers and the feverish heat of your skin makes you shiver.

"Look at you," he murmurs, voice thick with something unreadable. Reverence? Possession? It’s all the same with him. "You belong to me."

He presses a lingering kiss to your ribs, just above where your heartbeat pounds wildly against your bones. He exhales, and his lips curve against your skin in something dangerously close to a smile.

But you remember you’re technically free bleeding, and your pulse spikes, a rush of panic coursing through your veins as you instinctively try to close your legs. But his hand is there, swift and firm, stopping you. His grip is too strong, his presence too consuming.

He doesn't let go, his fingers brushing over the inner parts of your thighs, his breath shallow and erratic as he drinks in the sight of you. His pupils are blown wide, almost black, utterly lost in something feral and primal. He’s staring at you like he’s found something sacred, something far darker and deeper than just physicality.

"Don’t hide it," he murmurs, his voice raw and low. His gaze flickers down to the blood, and there's something almost reverent in his eyes. "This—this is perfect."

He throws your leg over his shoulder, and your face burns. 

Your breath catches as his lips linger against your calf, the warmth of his mouth searing against your skin. Your face burns, a flush creeping down your neck, spreading like wildfire. His touch is reverent—too intimate, too consuming.

He watches you through lidded eyes, something unreadable flickering behind them. "Look at you," he murmurs, dragging his lips higher. "Divine."

The forest around you is silent, as if holding its breath, as if bearing witness. Your pulse pounds in your ears, the rhythm syncing with his own quiet, shuddering breaths. You don’t know what’s more terrifying—the way he touches you like you’re something sacred or the way you’re starting to believe it.

Divine.

He did not want you to utter a word of the gods, and yet here he was, revering you as though you were made of stardust and prayer. His lips traced blessings into your skin, his hands mapping out every fragile piece of you with something dangerously close to devotion.

Your breath shuddered, caught between fear and something deeper, something you couldn’t name. He worshipped you in contradiction—loathing, needing, aching.

His voice was a rasp against your skin. "You don’t even see it, do you?" His fingers ghosted over your thigh, his grip tightening as though you might disappear. "You are holy in a way the heavens could never understand."

He pulls the nightgown off you completely, throwing it aside. The ruined nightgown lands in a crumpled heap, forgotten the moment it leaves his hands.

His gaze devours you, tracing every inch of exposed skin like a man starved, like something sacred has been laid bare before him. His fingers, cool against the heat of your body, press into your waist, lingering, memorizing.

"You were never meant for them," he murmurs, almost to himself. His touch drags up, slow, reverent, mapping out the curve of your ribs, the plane of your stomach. "Never meant for their rules. Their prayers."

His lips follow the path his hands have taken, pressing against you like whispered blasphemy.

His devotion was feverish, a worship not of saints or gods, but of you.

Your body was his temple, and he knelt before it without shame, lips pressing against every inch of exposed skin as though engraving his reverence into you. His hands roamed—possessive, greedy, desperate—as if afraid you might vanish between his fingers like mist at dawn.

“You were made for me,” he murmured against your hip, his voice rough with something deeper than hunger. His teeth grazed your skin, a silent vow. “No holy book, no doctrine—only this. Only us.”

The forest bore witness to the sacrilege, the rustling leaves whispering secrets to the wind. But he did not care. And, Astra help you, neither did you.

“Rafayel, that blood-” “It’s precious. Don’t you dare say otherwise.”

His words came like a command, hard and unyielding. His fingers gripped your wrists, holding you still as if your very body was his to claim, to savor. There was something in his eyes—intensity, obsession, an almost maddening hunger as he traced the lines of your skin.

The blood, your blood, had already stained him, and yet it seemed to hold him captive. It wasn’t just an act of possession—it was reverence, as though your very essence was sacred, and he couldn’t bear to waste a drop of it.

"Every part of you," he whispered, eyes now fixed on the path of blood trickling along your skin, "is mine." His voice was raw, desperate. "And I’ll cherish every bit of it, even if the gods themselves would frown upon us."

His lips hovered just above the blood, as if he was waiting for permission, the tension between you both palpable, thickening the air.

His lips hovered, teasing, just barely brushing against your skin as he waited, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Without thinking, you pulled him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair, pressing his mouth to your blood-streaked skin.

It was an act of surrender. You were no longer the person who feared him, who resisted his touch. Now, you were simply a part of the chaos between you, caught in the storm of his desire and your own.

His breath hitched as his mouth met your skin, his hands roaming to claim you further. Every inch of him was pressed against you, his body marking you as his, as he whispered your name—like a prayer, like an obsession, like a promise.

If he was going to damn you, it may as well be worth it. 

His tongue laped at the blood on your thighs, his grip bruising on your hips as he cleans you up. Nipping and kissing up, up, up, his breath fans over your cunt, abd you can’t help but shiver. 

“And Astra said do not be wasteful, so thank you for this meal.”

His lips were on you, drinking your blood. "I could spend an eternity feasting on you,”

His words sent a thrill of excitement through you as he continued to lavish attention to your sensitive flesh, a cold hand coming to press down on your stomach, cool to the touch. Rafayels tongue traced patterns along your folds, your breath hitching as waves of pleasure rippled through your body, conflicting with the apprehension that still lingered in your mind. You let go of his hair, grasping at the dirt, clawing at whatever could ground you, fighting to maintain control over your desires. But with each flick of Rafayels tongue, each gentle suckle, your resolve waned, your resistance crumbling like sand beneath a relentless tide. 

Despite yourself, you arched your back, offering yourself more fully to his ministrations, your moans mingling with the soft sounds of his fervent attentions. Lips parting to taste the blood that came from your core, he teased and taunted with each languid stroke. 

Rafayel savored you like a forbidden fruit, movements deliberate and precise as he explored every inch of your trembling form. Eliciting gasps and moans from your lips, he threatened to consume you. 

His hands, strong and commanding, roamed over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs as he held you in place, ensuring you remained at his mercy. 

"Please," you begged, your voice a breathless whisper. "I can't... I can't take anymore..."

Of course, the faux priest ignored you. 

His lips were bloody- so bloody, smearing across his chin and mingling with the spit that connected him to your cunt. 

“You- you’re beautiful.”

He licks it away, groaning at the taste as he reluctantly pulls himself away, sitting up, keeping your legs apart as he undoes his buttoned shirt, pulling it over his head and-

As if your cheeks couldnt burn any more. 

It was as if Astra had carved him himself, and he probably did. 

No clay was made to make his form, no. 

He was made from fire and starlight.

Two fingers replaced his mouth, inching their way. Your eyes threaten to roll at the intensity of it all, and the feeling of shame was ever present in its advancements. 

Rafayel made his way up your body, lips trailing along the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake as he moved towards your breasts. Capturing one of your nipples between his lips, he sucked and nipped at the sensitive flesh, his fangs nearly breaking the skin. 

“Divine.”

It was said like a mantra, a prayer on your skin, an obsession with the salvation he so desperately craved. His free hand grabbed one of your own, interlocking your fingers and holding it about your head. Worshipping your breasts with a sense of reverence, he nearly whined. 

"I could spend an eternity feasting on you,”

The words send a thrill of excitement through you.

But the ins and outs of his fingers, his mouth on your tits, and the utter act of it all-

You don’t know whether to cry or beg. 

Beg for it to be done?

It’s too much- and he knows this. Of course he does. 

Father Rafayel always knows. 

He lets your nipple go with a lewd pop, taking his fingers out of you before grabbing your face. If you weren't so overwhelmed, you might have gagged. 

Until he spits in your mouth and pushes your head back down. 

“Stay down.”

His hands go to his pants, and you watch. Watch him take himself out. 

Astra above. 

He was pretty just about everywhere. Endowed, leaking, his skin tinged the faintest of blues up until his tip, an aggressive deep red-almost purple. 

And there's so much cum. 

He lines himself up with your quivering hole, breathing hard as if he needed the oxygen. Maybe he did now. “I- hah- I’m taking you. You understand, don’t you? I need this.”

But your gaze is too focused on his member, too distracted. 

“He’d probably marry a book,”

Oh, Yvonne, you sweet ignorant soul. 

Your blood smears across his tip, and he hisses. “So hot- too hot,”

Breathe in. 

Breathe out. 

Breathe in. 

Breathe ou-

You cry out, the push too uncomfortable, too harsh, too mean. And finally- finally- closes his eyes, long lashes giving his cheeks butterfly kisses as he damn near growls. 

He leans over you, his forehead meeting yours as he presses his lips to yours, whether just for the sake of kissing or to not look foolish, you don’t know. Don’t have time to think as he goes to your throat. 

He bites. 

Not enough to break skin, but it hurts. 

Hurts more when you gaze at his hands, how they are fisted in the damp soil beneath you, nails caked with blood and dirt, holding himself back. 

He moves his hips, pushing in, and your arms scramble around his bare back, nails gifting crescents into his skin. A bulge in your tummy- he presses down on it. 

“Here. Here is where I’ll be. Where we will be. Do you understand?”

“What?”

“Miseal. It’s already decided.”

His thrusts are deep- rough, and something feels off as he takes you. Though you’re not sure what.

Almost as if you’re being watched. 

And he feels it too.

“Damn him,”

A rush, a rush as he tries to make you both finish, no longer worried about the pleasure of it all, so long as it was done. You whine, legs wrapping around him, keeping him in as he rocks into you. 

Soon enough, he spills. 

But it's strange, how he pulls away fast, grabbing his pants.

You watch as he pulls out a candle, a muted red wax of a long shaft and a packet of matches. 

“You move, and you’re getting burned. Do you understand?”

What?

He lights it. 

Panicking, you try to get up- 

His hand is on your throat, keeping you down. “Stay. Still.”

He holds it over your body, letting the wax melt and then-

When it drops onto your skin, it burns.

You bite back a yelp, throwing your head back and gritting your teeth. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

His gaze is hard as he lets it fall onto your body, watching it roll down the curves and valleys and dips of your body. Tears pool in your eyes, and all sense of warmth he had in his gaze is gone. Why was he so hard to understand?

He brings a hand to your stomach, smearing the wax before it solidified. 

It hits you. 

He was drawing something on you. Swirls of roses and vines, stars and something else you can't quite see. 

“Rafayel, what’s wrong-” “Quiet.”

His tone is sharp, cold. And then- 

Holy water?

He splashes it onto you. 

“Rafayel, wha-”

“Stop- Just stop it! Let me finish what I need to do!”

Rafayel’s breath came fast and uneven, his hands shaking even as they held you firm. His panic bled into you like ink in water, spreading thick and inescapable.

No—no, no, no. This was wrong.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out everything else. 

He jerked back as if burned, his expression twisting. Regret? Shame? Desire? It all mixed together, unreadable.

"Astra," you whispered, your throat tightening. "Astra is going to punish us."

Rafayel's face darkened, his pupils blown wide, his grip on you tightening like a noose.

Then, before you could utter another breath, he shoved his hand over your mouth, pressing you into the earth.

"Shut. Up." His voice was a raw, desperate growl. His body caged you in, his hand firm against your lips, his eyes blazing with something almost wild.

The wind only grew stronger. The trees groaned. The stars above flickered—then vanished.

Astra was watching.

Your chest heaved, but no air came. His hand was firm, unyielding, stealing the breath from your lungs as the wind raged around you. Your fingers clawed at his wrist, nails digging into his skin, but he wouldn’t budge.

Your vision blurred at the edges, a ringing building in your ears. Above you, the sky churned—inky black swallowing every trace of light, the heavens convulsing in silent fury.

Rafayel’s eyes bore into yours, his grip trembling. His own breath was ragged, his expression torn between panic and something darker.

Then, just as your limbs began to weaken, he let go.

You gasped, choking on the rush of air, your lungs burning. The moment your breath returned, you shoved him away, scrambling backward across the damp forest floor.

"What have you done?" Your voice was raw, torn.

Rafayel didn’t answer. His lips parted, but his eyes weren’t on you anymore. They were locked onto the abyss above, where the sky had fractured.

A sob clawed up your throat, raw and broken. You could feel it—like something had been ripped from you, something sacred and irreplaceable.

Your soul.

The weight of it hit you all at once. A terrible, hollow emptiness where divinity had once dwelled. The connection to Astra, the light you had clung to in your darkest moments—it was gone. Torn away by his hands.

You curled in on yourself, fingers digging into the damp earth as if you could anchor yourself, as if the ground would not reject you like the heavens had. You had been forsaken.

A gust of wind howled through the trees, the sky above still shuddering, the heavens themselves mourning you.

And he—he only stood there. Watching.

"You’ve ruined me," you whispered, voice shaking, eyes wet with grief.

Rafayel flinched as if struck. But he didn’t deny it. Didn’t apologize. He only took a step closer, the shadows curling around him like a crown, his expression unreadable.

"You were never theirs to begin with." His voice was low, reverent, filled with something close to adoration.

You hated him. You hated that you wanted to believe him.

A breeze flows through your hair, comfortable on your scalp. 

A field of golden wheat. The stalks sway, whispering secrets in the wind. The sky is endless, a soft, hazy blue, and the sun is warm on your skin.

And then you see it.

Her.

Your body—mangled, broken, wrong. Blood seeps into the dirt beneath, soaking the golden earth in deep crimson. Your eyes are open, clouded and lifeless, staring at nothing. The wind does not touch you. The sun does not warm you.

You are dead.

But you are also here, standing above yourself, barefoot in the soft earth, small hands trembling at your sides. You are a child again.

A shadow looms over your corpse. You look up.

Astra?

No.

A hand grabs yours. You turn, blinking in confusion. There, standing beside you, is a younger version of Rafayel, his eyes wide, full of an unspoken fear. The wheat sways gently around him, but the warmth of the sun, which once bathed you, now feels distant, cold, almost unreal.

“Are you scared?” you ask softly, your voice trembling, not sure if the words are meant for him or for you.

He doesn’t answer at first, his gaze fixed on the mangled body lying in the dirt, still and lifeless. Slowly, he nods. His expression is tense, strained, haunted. The faint trace of a tear glimmers in his eye, but he refuses to look away from the vision of death that lies before you.

Another figure steps forward, his presence almost ethereal amidst the vast expanse of the golden wheat.

He is a man—older, perhaps, though not by much—and yet, his features carry an odd resemblance to both you and Rafayel, as if the strands of your lives had intertwined in ways too complex to decipher. His face is solemn, filled with a quiet sadness that mirrors your own unease. He crouches by the mangled body, planting roses in the earth, the delicate flowers contrasting sharply with the harshness of death surrounding them.

When he finishes, his eyes slowly rise to meet yours, the sorrow in them palpable. "I can't wait to meet you," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a melancholy that feels out of place in this strange vision. There's a heaviness in his words, as though he’s already resigned to an inevitable fate that neither you nor he can escape.

You stand still, caught in the moment, unsure of what to make of him or what he means by his cryptic words. His gaze lingers for a moment longer before he turns away, his figure slowly dissolving into the wheat as if he were never there to begin with. 

The familiar sound of Gran's laughter fills the air, cutting through the tension of the dream and pulling you back to reality. You blink, suddenly disoriented as you stand in your kitchen, the smell of burnt soup wafting in the air. Tara, your younger cousin, stands at the stove, a guilty grin plastered across her face.

You roll your eyes and call out, annoyed, “Tara, did you burn the soup again?”

Gran chuckles from her rocking chair in the corner of the room, clearly entertained by the chaotic dynamic. She has seen this a thousand times before, but her amusement is unwavering. "Let her be, love. She’s learning."

Tara, red-faced and clearly embarrassed, scoops a ladle of the charred soup into a bowl, trying to salvage what she can. "It wasn’t that bad," she protests weakly, though the scorched smell says otherwise.

You sigh, but the irritation fades quickly as you watch Tara and Gran in the soft light of the kitchen. It’s a comforting scene, one you’ve known all your life. Still, that dream lingers at the back of your mind, its strange figure and cryptic words echoing through your thoughts, mixing with the mundane and ordinary.

"Gran, I had the strangest dream last night," you start, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling. She pauses, her hands stilling on her knitting as her sharp eyes meet yours.

“Did you now?” “I…yeah. I dreamed I was trying to be a nun…and there was a vampire.” Gran raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "A vampire, eh? Sounds like Astra's handiwork, that does."

You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, you hear a soft chuckle from the doorway. The voice is familiar, comforting, yet too smooth—too perfect. "Nightmares again, cutie?"

You freeze, instinctively glancing over your shoulder. There, standing in the doorway, is him. The man who doesn't quite fit, but is always somehow there, a shadow in the corner of your life. He wears the same smile as always—charming, relaxed, but with an undertone you can't quite place. His eyes gleam, mischievous with amusement. 

Gran raises a knowing eyebrow. “Rafayel, you causing my grandbaby nightmares again? You ought to be more gentle with her.”

“I can’t help it, Josephine. Gotta get it out of my system before the wedding.”

Gran snorts. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “So what, you just had to torment me one last time before I walk down the aisle?”

Rafayel grins, lazy and wolfish. “Of course. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t haunt my bride’s dreams before the big day?” His voice is teasing,

Gran swats him lightly with a dish towel. “Enough of that nonsense. Go set the table if you’re gonna stand there running your mouth.”

Rafayel winks at you before grabbing the plates.

©hellinistical 2025 do not copy, translate, distribute, plagiarize, or reproduce in any form without permission, and do not share to any media outside of tumblr.

[cybersvoid]

❥ Big Brother Touya vi [Trick or Treat]

──⇌••⇋──

♡ Pairings: BigBrother!Touya x Reader [Platonic]

Summary: Big Brother Touya wants to take you trick or treating by himself, but unlucky for him, his least favorite sibling is tagging along.

Parts : i | ii | iii | iv | v

ღ Warning | Please do not repost my work anywhere. If you see anyone reposting or copying my work please let me know. Thank you!

──⇌••⇋──

“Y/N. Come on out.” Touya called, looking around your room. He had been searching the whole house for you, ready to hit the road. He convinced their father to let him quit training early to take you trick or treating. Mom offered to take you, but Touya didn’t want to miss seeing you in your Halloween costume. Plus he could train twice as hard tomorrow, so it wasn’t a complete loss. “All the Halloween candy is going to be gone if we don’t leave soon. Come on out.” He was about to walk out when he heard your tiny giggle. So you were in here. “Hmm, where, oh where, could you be?”

“Boo!” You shouted, jumping out of the closet. How cute, you were dressed as a little rabbit. The body of the costume was composed of white fluff to ensure you’d be warm throughout the night. With long ears and a puffy tail, to finish the look off, you even had drawn-on whiskers and a pink nose. Your costume perfectly capturing your small innocent nature. Touya couldn’t help but grin.

“Ahh!” He screamed, throwing his hands up in surrender as he faked surprise, “Wow, you scared me.”

“Did I really?” You asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“Yep. Now come on.” He held out his hand and you eagerly grabbed it, your tiny feet frantically pattering against the floor, trying to keep up with his bigger steps, your jack-o-lantern tight in hand as your excitement grew. “Bye everyone we’re leaving,” Touya shouted, not expecting a response.

“Nooo,” you whined tugging him back in the house.

“What’s the problem little, bunny? Forget something?”

“No, big brother Sho, is coming.”

“No, it’s just me, so let-”

“No! Mama said.” This was the first time he had heard of this. It was only supposed to be you and him. Why the fuck was Shoto coming? He already has the attention of father and the whole family, did he really have to steal you away too? His audacity was starting to piss Touya off.

“Sorry, I’m here.” Shoto’s steady voice cut in. He was dressed as a vampire, hair slicked back, a cape, paired with some fake fangs, and a jack-o-lantern mirroring your own. Touya felt your hand slip from his own once you saw Shoto. Running over to him with a big grin plastered on your face.

“Wow! Cool costume, Sho. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, I’m ready.” He stated in response.

To say Touya was not happy would be an understatement. He was pissed. This was supposed to be his time with you, a rare break from the constant grind of training. Now he was stuck sharing it with Shoto. Every time you called out his name. Every time you talked to him. Every time you tugged him over to a new house eager to get more candy his anger continued to simmer.

The night dragged on like this, with the roads getting darker and darker until the only thing lighting the path were street lights and lit-up jack-o-lanterns. Your tiny feet began to falter, and Touya could see your energy waning. “Y/N,” Touya began, “It’s way past your bedtime, and you can barely walk anymore. It’s time to go home.”

“Nooo, I’m almost done. I just want to go to a few more houses,” you yawned, barely even able to grip his hand anymore. Your jack-o-lantern had already fallen out of your palm repeatedly, to the point where Touya volunteered to hold it on your behalf. Anyone could tell you were well past exhausted, it just seemed you yourself hadn't gotten the memo yet.

“You can’t even stand up straight,” he said, rolling his eyes as he scooped you into his arms. “Come on, little bunny. You’re done for the night.” You didn’t even have the energy to protest.  Your head gently resting against his shoulder. The only sounds coming from you were small mumbles that couldn’t even be comprehended as words, followed by soft breaths as you let yourself fall asleep in his arms.

The two brothers started back home, the only sound being their unsynced footsteps against the sidewalk before Touya broke the silence.

“Why did you come?” It was a question that could’ve been labeled as general curiosity, but the disdain in his voice made it clear that he saw his brother's presence as an unwanted nuisance.

“Y/N wanted me to.” He stated calmly

“Bullshit. Y/N’s wanted you to come trick or treating with the two of us every year since Mom stopped coming. Every year I tell you to kick rocks, and every year you do, but not this year. So I’ll ask again… Why did you come?”

Shoto was quiet for a moment. As if debating on whether he should tell the truth or not before speaking up. “Mom wanted me to. She thinks you're too overprotective of Y/N, and she's worried that we don’t spend enough time together. She thought this would be a good bonding experience.”

Touya almost wanted to laugh over the stupidity of this plan. The overprotective comment didn’t come as a surprise in any way. In fact, he was well aware of his mother's opinion on the way he cares for you. She had brought it up to him on multiple occasions, but truth be told he really didn’t care. The woman was incapable of protecting her children and he was proof of that, so in what world would he leave Y/N in her hands? As for Shoto, did his mother truly think that one night together would cure his lifelong disdain for his younger brother? There aren’t enough Halloweens in a lifetime for that to happen.

“Our time spent together will be spent training under our father and nothing more. Next year, you're not coming, I don't care what mom says. Training has been taking over my entire schedule, and I refuse to spend what little time I have with Y/N shared with you.”

Shoto sighed, “It’s not like it's a competition, Touya. I’m her brother too. It’s okay if she loves us both.”

Touya’s jaw clenched at Shoto's words. 

“You’re wrong. It is a competition, and it’s one I’m sure as hell not going to lose to you. I’ll make sure of that”

[avocado-writing]

i can never run and i cannot hide

notes: he is so creature coded to me. wanted to write something about that.

pairing: vampire!papa v perpetua x f!reader

rating: e (hunter/prey; primal play; cnc; dubcon; aftercare)

words: 2.2k

It’s a cool, dark, starry night, your absolute favourite kind - contrasting so beautifully against the summer days which have been plaguing you. In the north wing of the abbey there’s a window which sits just so, allowing you to look up to the moon with no spires to block your view. When you cannot sleep you find yourself coming here to perch instead, a little bird drawn to the world outside. You’re all alone when the lights have been dimmed for the evening, your fellow Siblings asleep in their beds or far enough away not to bother you from your constellation-gazing. It’s peaceful. 

Or… it is usually peaceful.

A chill runs over you and the hairs on the back of your neck rise, in a way which suggests that someone is watching you. You whip your head around to face the shadows, searching them with squinted eyes for a moment, attempting to ascertain whether the figure you think you can make out is real.

And then they move. Papa Perpertua steps forward, just far enough into the soft silver moonlight that you can see that one pale eye transfixed on you, so that you can admire how his black shirt shifts on his thin chest. Another chill. You’re not entirely sure if this one is in fear.

“Oh, your Dark Holiness, I didn’t see you there…” you manage. Is he smiling? At this distance it is difficult to tell but you swear that you catch a glint of fang.

“No,” he agrees, his voice a purr. Oh he is definitely smiling. “You’re out here late, sorella. And wearing so little, too, hmm?”

You’re suddenly starkly aware that you’re only dressed in a nightgown, light and thin for the summer. It does little to hide your body. Your nipples have peaked in the cool air of the evening and you want to cross your arms over your chest to hide them, but you don’t want to draw any more of his attention than you already have.

“I’m sorry. I ought to go to bed, I didn’t mean to seem disrespectful, dressed like this…”

But to leave you’ll have to walk past him. You feel your heart hammering in your chest as you hop down from your windowsill, closing the gap between you, him seeming to loom ever higher the closer you draw. For a second you think you will be let go without admonishment… but then a clawed hand shoots out to wrap around your arm. You gasp at the coldness of his touch, your skin turning gooseflesh where he’s made contact. He grins down at you. You feel your blood pumping through your veins and you know for certain, in that moment, that he can too.

“Tell me, sorella, have you ever lain with a Papa before?”

Your mouth goes dry. You can’t look away from that eye, it’s piercing into your soul. You are rooted to the spot, paralysed, a deer in the headlights.

“P…pardon?” you manage to squeak out. He sweeps down so he can be closer to you, and you can see every pore on his perfect, terrifying face from his distance.

“Have you fucked a Papa, little bird?”

The pet name has you clenching your thighs together, but you don’t want this. Do you want this? Before tonight you’ve barely said three words to the strange new Papa, only heard the rumours of him stalking round the monastery at all hours, and how you ought to not cross his path or you’ll meet a terrible fate…

“I… no…” you breathe. Your answer pleases him. His smile widens and you are met with a maw full of sharp teeth. The breath in your lungs seizes and you begin to shake.

“Before tonight is over, little bird, you will.”

He lets go of your arm and raises to his full height. He is towering. In fact, his body seems to elongate in the shadows, odd and willowy. Inhuman. 

“You have a ten second head start, sorella. And then I am coming after you.”

Your eyes have begun to fill with tears at the implication of his words, and yet there is no denying the tight knot of heat burning its way through the pit of your stomach.

“Papa… no… please don’t do this…”

“Ten…”

Oh, he is not playing. You turn and run. You curse yourself for not wearing shoes, thinking that bare feet would help keep you cool. Instead your soles slap painfully against the stone floor and you wince at the tiny flickers of pain with each step. It is better, though, than the alternative.

His voice rings in your head, velvet and poison.

Nine… eight… seven…

You make it to a crossroads in the corridors, turning your head this way and that. Where do you run? Where is best? Where could you find someone to protect you at this late hour, when the sleeping quarters are so far away?

Six… five… four…

There is no time to think. You pick a direction and sprint as fast as you can. After a couple of moments you’re able to place your surroundings and realise you are near the sanctuary, where Black Mass is held every Sunday. Maybe you can find some corner to hide in until he is bored of searching for you and goes off to find some other unfortunate plaything.

Three… two… one…

You throw the sanctuary doors open and close them as quietly as you can behind you, running into the vast room and desperately searching for a good place to squirrel yourself away. Everywhere seems too open, too obvious. But there is no time.

I am coming, sorella.

Out of options, you simply throw yourself behind the altar, begging to whatever devil is listening that he won’t search here. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as you try to make yourself as small as possible and quiet your breathing, a hand slapped over your own mouth to muffle your hyperventilation. Is it enough? It has to be enough…

The sanctuary doors creak open and your heart sinks.

“I know you’re here, little bird. I can smell the thrum of your blood,” calls Papa Perpertua, his voice echoing around the empty room. You stay as still as you can while listening to the sound of his shoes as he searches.

“Are you between the pews…?”

You can imagine his cold gaze sliding over the wooden seating, knowing it would be too obvious a place to sequester yourself.

“Hmm, in the confessional…?”

The sound of claws on wood as he inspects. He is closer now. Surely close enough to hear your breathing if he tries with his unnaturally keen senses…

“No, you have no sins to be blessed for. Not yet, anyway. So there’s only one place left, sì?”

A shadow falls over you. You look up into Papa’s grinning face, his pupils blown wide with desire as he looms over the altar.

“There you are, little bird.”

You try to run, you do, but he is too fast. There is that hand again, snatching your wrist from the air and pulling you back into his embrace, your back to his chest. You kick and squirm but he holds you impossibly tight, arms like iron bars.

“Papa, please, don’t!”

“You keep saying that, hm? ‘Don’t’? And yet, I don’t believe you. Because your body betrays you, sorella.”

His palm graces down your sternum, your stomach, and comes to rest between your thighs. You freeze in fear as he runs his fingers across the slick that’s gathered at the top of your thighs. He holds them in front of you to inspect, his claws glistening in the moonlight which filters in through the glass windows above you both.

“You want this. Do not fight it. Do not fight me, silly little thing.”

He lets go of you for just long enough to swipe the altar clear of dark holy symbols with one long arm, before he throws you onto the cold stone. A claw comes up to the collar of your nightdress.

“Shame to ruin something so beautiful,” he sighs, and you don’t know if he means you or it. But then he is ripping down the front, tearing it in two so that you are bared to him. His eyes rake across your body as he takes you in hungrily, and then suddenly that sharp mouth is at your neck. You push your hands against his shoulders to try and force him away but he is far too strong for that. When his teeth press into your flesh you squeak, and it turns into a squeal when he bites. You feel warm blood trickle down your neck onto the altar beneath you as he begins to drink.

“You’re a beautiful vintage, sorella,” he groans, his voice thick with desire in your ear. Your head begins to go light. Your thoughts are candyfloss-spindly, stretched and sweet. At some point your attempts to push him off of you turns into an embrace, your arms wrapped around his back.

“There you are, hmm? Finally accepting that I know what is best for you?”

“I don’t… please stop…” you whine, but your heart isn’t in it any more. You know he hunted you to get your blood pumping so you’d be even more delicious for him and you don’t care. The caress of his tongue as he laps warm blood from your veins has you melting for him. When his hand dips between your legs again, he finds it is not only crimson dripping onto the stone beneath you.

You expect his claws to hurt as he presses them inside you, but it turns out he can be surprisingly gentle. First two then three as he realises how ready you are for him, their sharp tips dragging across the sweet spot buried against your walls. You gasp and try not to buck your hips lest he draw blood from there too.

You’ve no doubt that he would clean it, though.

When his thumb presses to your clit, you realise that you have no choice but to let yourself go. You come hard, your cunt clenching around his knuckles, flooding his palm with your release. He pulls back to look at you, to frame your orgasm in his memories forever. His chin is soaked red, lips and teeth both stained, but he reaches up to taste you from his fingers. His eyes roll back in delight and then he’s dipping them between your lips too, the tang of your own release heady on your tongue.

“You enjoy letting go,” he states, moving his thin waist between your legs and tugging at the lacing of his trousers. He pulls himself free, not bothering to undress any further, stroking himself with the hand he just used to bring you to climax. The sight of his thick cock coated with you is almost too much to bear.

“Please…” you whisper one last time, but you’re not sure if you’re begging him to stop or keep going. He doesn’t seem to care either way, instead he pushes your thighs up against your stomach and presses himself inside your needy cunt. You whine and wriggle at the feeling of fullness. He’s hard and feral. His hips snap back before thrusting forward, fucking into you the altar so hard that you slide up it a couple of inches.

“Papa…!”

“Be good for me, tesoro, and take my cock. You can do that for your Papa, hm?”

He doesn’t expect an answer but you manage to nod between the tears of overstimulation which sting at your eyes. He digs the tips of his fingers into your soft flesh as he forces himself into you impossibly deeper, his pelvis slapping against your ass as he fucks you hard. You throw your head back with every roll of his hips. It is unholy. It is glorious.

“Look at your Papa. I want to see you when we come together.”

You force your gaze upwards. He looks more creature than man like this, his teeth bared in a snarl, eyes wide in a frenzy. His cock strikes your sweetest spot over and over and he is lost in it, in you; he surges forward to crash his bloody lips to yours as you feel him spill inside you. His hips judder to a halt as he climaxes, taking you over the edge again too as he floods your poor, abused cunt. The kiss peters out and soon the two of you lie there in a messy embrace, one which you are only pulled out of at the sound of your name being called.

You look up. Gone is the wild beast who hunted you just moments ago, replaced by your sweet, adoring Perpetua. He kisses the sore spot on your neck where he bit, his tongue a salve.

“Did that sate your desire, tesoro?” he hums, knuckles dragging along your flank in a caress. You nod and bury your fingers in his hair.

“Mmm, thank you, my love. The altar was a nice touch…”

He grins, but it’s no longer something which strikes fear. It is sweet and kind and meant only for you.

“I thought you’d enjoy that. Come, let me take you back to our chambers. I will run you a bath and clean you up. And… thank you for letting me feed.”

You caress his face and bring him in for a loving kiss, your tongue swiping along his bottom lip to taste the cocktail he has made of you.

“I love you, Perpetua.”

“I love you too, my little bird.”

[tiny-maus-boots]

Darkest of Nights pt 19

Happy valentine's day, nerds.

Beca

All in all it hadn’t been the worst first meeting of the parents. At least. She didn't think it went that badly. Beca didn't really have anything to compare it to since there had never been anyone in her life to warrant a meeting of the folks before now.

She had learned a few things from them, however. Important things that had eased her mind being in the heart of a vampire stronghold.

The first being that every vampire there had defied the council in some way to protect or hide werefolk, humans, and fae to escape the Blood Guard. That counted for a lot in her book and forced her to change the way she was viewing vampires in general. Not that she truly trusted any of them besides Chloe and Aubrey but they had a stake in this fight for their own freedom.

All of them were as good as dead if the Council were to find them now. The necromancer pondered this as she turned on the shower to a deliciously warm spray and stepped under it. She sighed as she considered everything else she had heard too.

They would be safe there but only for a time. The blood guard would track them down eventually and all those vampires were now just sitting targets. Einar promised that every last one would fight for their lives but would they fight for hers?

Beca didn't think so. It wasn’t anything against them really. They didn't know her, and they were scared of what she could do to them. What she had done to them already. It weighed heavily on her as she lathered her hair and worked out the grit, sweat, and dried blood.

It didn't hurt. The necromancer frowned and gingerly touched all over her scalp but she couldn’t find any wounds that had occurred during her struggle with Billy Bob Pimp. Or the blast in the crypt. Her fingers trailed down her neck to brush over the delicate marks where Chloe had sunk fangs into her. There was no scabbing, only the smooth, slightly raised skin of scar tissue.

The brush of her fingertips over the bite marks caused a rush of heat to burn its way from her neck to parts decidedly lower and she had to inhale quickly to stifle the moan before it could slip past her lips.

Beca leaned against the cool tiled wall and focused on breathing. That was new. Not exactly unpleasant newness, but definitely unexpected. When she was sure her knees wouldn't buckle under her, she pushed off the wall and hurried through the rest of her shower looking for wounds that had already healed to unmarred flesh.

Finally wrapped in a luxuriously plush robe courtesy of Chloe, she leaned forward and looked into the mirror. No cuts, no bruises, no marks. Except for Chloe’s bite she was back to her usual resting bitch face with none the wiser about what she had just been through. Nothing had changed but she knew she was a different creature entirely than the woman who had been abducted from her caravan days..or weeks before. Honestly she wasn't even sure how much time had passed. It felt like a lifetime.

“Beca? Are you okay in there?”

She pulled back from the mirror at the knock and tightened her grip on the soft white terry cloth at her neck like the literal robe clutching prude that she was. Beca shuffled to the door and opened it a crack to peek out. Aubrey hovered just outside the door full of concern and holding a folded stack of clothes.

“What’s all that?”

“Chloe’s wardrobe is a little more…colorful than your usual style but I did find some things you might v-vibe with?”

God, did she have to be so fucking adorable all the time? Beca smiled and opened the door wider. “Still figuring out what the cool kids say, huh?”

“I feel as though I’m speaking a new language comprised of words I already know but no longer understand the meaning of.”

Aubrey handed over the folded stack of clothes with a soft frustrated sigh. It was hard to reconcile this gentle and confused woman with the crazed ax wielding demon vampire she knew the blonde could be.

“Well you're doing great. And you look like you feel better.”

The blonde gave a slight nod and self consciously brought her hand up to the side of her face that had been burned. There wasn't even a hint of redness now.

“Thanks to you. You seem to have healed as well.”

Aubrey reached out a tentative hand and grazed a fingertip along her jaw, tipping her head to the light. A cool hand cupped her cheek and Beca leaned into it. It was an almost perfect feeling standing there together. The air around them shifted as Chloe’s body filled the space beside them. Her pale arms slid around Beca and Aubrey, closing the circuit between them. Now it was perfect.

Power hummed up around them without the intensity they had called up in the van. This was something much softer and it swirled and eddied around them as though they were caught in a current. Their connection wasn't just magic that flowed between them, it was a part of each of them bound together in a way mere bodies could never achieve.

And the Council would never let them have this. Not without a fight.

Beca sighed and pulled back only enough to look at the two vampires. Now that she had whatever this was she intended to keep it. And as much as she wanted to sink into Chloe’s bed with them and do things that absolutely would get them arrested in several states and totally murdered by the Blood Guard, she knew they needed to plan.

“Can we talk?”

Chloe’s arms dropped from around them in resignation and Beca felt a tiny stab of rejection through their connection. The redhead mastered her tone and smiled just as airily and bright as always and it made Beca wonder how many times Chloe had done that before for her. Always accepting the rejection and only offering a teasing smile in return.

“Of course Bec. I'm sure you'd like to set up some ground rules for us…”

Confusion furrowed her brow at that. Rules? Beca opened her mouth but closed it with a click as she eyed them carefully.

“Wait…rules?”

“For our behavior.” Came Aubrey’s prompt reply.

“For your behavior?”

She felt like a parrot just repeating back what she was being told but her brain couldn't seem to wrap itself around what was being suggested. Chloe took pity on her and gestured vaguely around the apartment.

“So you'll feel safe here with us. We won't bite. We promise.”

Beca couldn't explain the way that made her feel. It was in their nature to bite. To feed. To take because they could. And yet for her, they would resist. Had resisted for days even with her leaking blood like a sieve after every injury.

“Oh Chlo…” How did she even begin to explain to them that biting wasn't even on her list of concerns? Beca reached out and took Chloe’s hand in her own, drawing her in closer. “I don't need you, either of you, to follow rules to make me feel safe. I trust you. Safe words for kink on the other hand…well we can get to that later.”

Chloe’s smile was slow and wide and Beca definitely felt her heart do flip flop things she hadn’t felt before. The redhead gave her a quick peck on the cheek and nudged her back into the bathroom.

“Put some pants on, Necromancer, or that talk is going to happen sooner than you think.”

Beca grinned and shut the door on them so she could dress. Not that she needed the privacy but she also didn't want to tempt Chloe into mounting her. Yet.

When she came out Aubrey was predictably hovering with nervous tension by the door.

“If not our behavior then what do you wish to speak to us about?”

Beca took in Aubrey’s small frown of confusion and reached out her free hand to the blonde and led her to bed where Chloe was patiently waiting. It felt better touching them both and she settled in between them, content to just be held.

“Our plan. Which seems like a stupid topic when we're all canoodled up like this. How are you warm right now?”

Chloe giggled at Aubrey’s obvious discomfort at the question and Beca was surprised to see a faint blush rise to the otherwise porcelain skin.

“We fed while you were showering. Aubrey is just a little embarrassed about breaking the fridge.”

“It was an accident.”

“You were drunk.”

Beca's eyes went wide. “Do I want to know?”

“She thought the stainless steel fridge was a can of sardines.”

“It has no handle! I didn’t know how to open it! What kind of contraption has a sealed door with no discernible handle?”

It started as a Muttley snicker that turned into a full on belly laugh that she couldn't seem to stop. Every overwrought nerve she had released its tension and she laughed until she could barely breathe and her sides hurt.

And they let her. Without her needing to explain why her hysterical laughter had turned to uncontrollable sobs. They simply held her between them and weathered the storm of Beca’s emotions with gentle kisses and soothing caresses.

“I'm sorry.”

“For having emotions? Bec, you're totes allowed to have all of the feels right now. You've been through a lot, we all have.”

Beca rubbed her face with both hands and sat up a little bit straighter. Having a break down was a luxury they couldn't really afford. After a second she was able to pull her wits together and face Chloe and Aubrey who were sitting there looking at her like…

The necromancer lifted her head prepared to see at the very least the shadow of cringe in their eyes. But she only found compassionate understanding from beings she never before thought capable of any such thing. It almost started another round of inexplicable crying and she had to look away quickly and clear her throat.

“Thanks. For you know, whatever.”

Aubrey’s head tipped to the side as she considered Beca carefully. She was sure the blonde ws secretly reading her mind with that assessing gaze.

“What? Is…is there something on my face or?”

“I would like to kiss you now.”

It started a sputtering laugh out of her and Beca found herself subconsciously stroking a thumb over spot on her arm that Aubrey fed from. Chloe's gaze tracked the movement and her lips pulled into a slow smile.

“I think we both would like to kiss you now.”

Beca opened her mouth to argue that they needed to plan their next steps, to prepare for the war they would bring to the Council but Aubrey’s warm hand cupped her jaw and gently guided her forward into a gentle kiss. The connection between them swelled at the first brush of lips against her own and it stole her breath away.

She pulled back and blinked owlishly at the blonde as she tried to order her thoughts and regain her focus. The necromancer cleared her throat and opened her mouth again. This time it was Chloe that guided her into a kiss and once again she was swallowed by a wave of magic and emotion so intense she could only make a helpless needy sound until the vampire pulled away.

“Okay rude.”

Aubrey’s brow furrowed in confusion. It was clearly not the reaction she had expected. Beca could feel another laugh starting to bubble up and tugged Aubrey forward into a smiling kiss.

“I didn't tell you to stop, Horny.”

They could wait to plan. Right? The Bloodguard couldn't be that close to finding them that they couldn't take some time for them….right? Chloe’s hand slid over her thigh and flicked her tongue teasingly over the scar she had left on Beca's neck. Fire shot down her spine and settled between her legs. Well. She was probably totally going to die anyway so why not go out with a bang?

[bushnellswife]

too fucking sweet for your own good

main . masterlist

paired: vampire!malachi & doll!reader

warnings: nsfw, p in v, blood drinking, heavy worship . [short]

The room was bathed in low candlelight, the scent of wax and old wood heavy in the air — but none of it mattered when Malachi was looking at you like that. Like he hadn't eaten in days. Like you were his salvation and his damnation at once.

"You smell," he rasped, stepping closer, "too fucking sweet for your own good." Your back hit the wall, heart hammering in your chest — not out of fear, never fear — but anticipation.


He pressed in, caging you between his body and the cold stone, one hand braced beside your head. His other hand gripped your hip, possessive, firm.

"Say the word," he whispered against your neck, fangs just barely scraping your skin. "Tell me to stop.” You didn’t.
You tilted your head instead — offering yourself.

Malachi let out a ragged moan, low and almost reverent. His lips dragged over your throat, tongue flicking over your pulse, savoring. Teasing. When he finally bit down, it wasn't gentle.


It was raw, desperate — a claiming.

You gasped, clutching his shoulders as the sharp, dizzying pain bloomed into molten pleasure. Malachi's body shuddered against yours, like he was barely holding himself together, his hips grinding into yours with every slow pull of your blood.

It was overwhelming — the heat of his mouth, the coolness of his hands, the steady rut of his hips pinning you in place.
You whimpered, thighs trembling.

"Fuck," he breathed against your skin. "You taste like... heaven."

His mouth left your neck only to crash onto your lips, kissing you filthy, tongue licking into your mouth like he needed to taste you in every way possible. You moaned into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until there was no space between you at all.

Without breaking the kiss, Malachi hiked one of your legs around his waist, grinding against you harder now, the thick press of his arousal making you gasp. He swallowed the sound greedily, rolling his hips, grinding into the wet heat between your thighs through your clothes.

"I need," he growled, biting your lower lip just enough to make you cry out, "need to fuck you. Need to have you — properly — mark you inside and out."

You whimpered his name — half-plea, half-challenge — and it broke whatever fragile restraint he had left.

Clothes were torn, discarded, forgotten. His mouth mapped every inch of your skin, kisses turning into bites, bites into bruises, until you were covered in proof of him — claimed, adored, ruined.

When he finally pushed into you, it was brutal, desperate. A single thrust that left you gasping, clutching at him like you’d drown without him. Malachi groaned, forehead dropping to yours, fangs still glinting with your blood.

"Mine," he whispered, rocking into you deep and slow, dragging every noise he could from your trembling lips. "You're mine now. Forever."

You could feel it — in the way he moved inside you, in the way he kissed you like a starving man, in the way his fangs hovered over your throat again, aching to sink back in as you shattered apart around him.

You were his.
You always had been.

And he would never, ever let you go.

©bushnellswife 2025 ˊˎ-

[nothirstonmain]

HELLO!! Its 🦇 anon <333 first time requesting and i am v scaref

But ummmhmn do you think you could do like a male (or gn) vampire reader with toya, akito, mmaybe gorou and xiao??? :3 I just wanna be someones hot, gay vampire bf tbh i'll take anyone

I domt have a specific scenario for this so i hope its okay...! Love u bye ^_^

- 🦇

["just wanna be someones hot, gay vampire bf" is the most relateable phrase ever. Thank you for calling me out 🦇anon, live ur best life also ily2 /p remember to drink water]

[Warnings: at least a bit OOC, we always be OOC. f!readers better run its male reader time !!!!]

♡ I think he always found vampires a bit interesting at the very least ♡ mf watched twilight as a kid in secret /j- ♡ He asks you questions abt it a lot ♡ "Does the sun actually kill you?" yes you poor sweet man ♡ Would let you drink from him. idk ♡ He does his best to accommodate u and stuff ♡ He is whipped he always will be its you after all ♡ He really likes your fangs, y'know ???? ♡ Like he loves your fangs ♡ If he was a more talkative person he'd never shut the fuck up abt them ♡ If you want to keep your vampirism a secret he doesn't mind ♡ He is very good at secrets, me thinks ♡ Also finds your bat form adorable !

♡ He does not care about what species you are ♡ Akito is chill. Very Chill. ♡ Your species means not, he will love you regardless ♡ He finds it quite cool though ♡ Be real he'd be into werewolves and vampires nd shit ♡ Barely ever asks questions just goes along with it ♡ He just makes mental notes of random Vampire Information. at least that's what it looks like ♡ Ena once walked in on him obsessively researching vampires and laughed so hard ♡ Doesn't just let you drink from him, wants you to ♡ Very interested in how it'd feel and stuff ♡ Simply casually interested in your vampirism ♡ You want to keep it a secret? He doesn't mind. ♡ Isn't the best at keeping secrets. Ena knows. Oh well. ♡ He'd find bats silly-looking but at the same time if you're in your bat form he will have you near him. ♡ No unsupervised bats, thanks

♡ Gorou doesn't often have time to read methinks ♡ Mf lives under a rock ♡ Asks a ton of questions. Just to understand better ♡ Another one who loves your fangs ♡ Very readily lets you drink from him also ♡ He's head over heels your species, once again, doesn't matter to him ♡ Tries to make more time to read and research vampirism more ♡ Will randomly jumpscare you with knowledge you didn't know he learned ♡ Finds it cool ♡ Will keep it a secret if you want ♡ When he's off working for Kokofish there's a little hidden place in his house for you to chill in bat form. ♡ Often cuddles you to keep your Natural Coldness at bay

♡ You cannot keep this a secret from him ♡ He can just. Tell. ♡ He doesn't mind ♡ Asks you a few questions, but is still pretty knowledgeable already ♡ Prefers to use you as a Source for vampire info ♡ He doesn't have one single ability he finds coolest ♡ He thinks your vampirism's interesting overall ♡ Doesn't treat you differently, he doesn't mind ♡ Will keep it a secret without even being needed to asked ♡ A bit more open about his adeptus form with you because Neither Of Ya Are Human

[pjtraveller]

@lostvacvnt

“Hey, Stiles,” comes Parker’s voice as he rests an arm across the other’s shoulders. “How ya doing, buddy?”

His long hair is tied back into a hair tie, though it’s obviously wet, a clear sign that he’d just gotten out of the pool. That, and the fact that he still smells like chlorine because he hadn’t gotten a chance to take a shower after practice in an effort to catch Stiles on his way out of the locker room.

Parker’s wearing one of Scott’s LAX hoodies as usual, but he’s colder than usual (thanks to the fact that he’s undead) because he hadn’t been able to warm up after the chill of the pool yet. He’d noticed Stiles acting weirder than normal around him lately, and he wants to get to the bottom of why.

[back2themax]

Sundown: The vampire in retreat

I’m not sure what I was originally expecting from this movie. However, it ended being hands down one of the funniest things I’ve seen in a WHILE. It’s actually extremely clever and Interesting in concept. It’s somewhat cheesy but it’s in a good way. So I’m a bit confused, google says it was released in 1989 everything says that, except xfinity which is saying 1991 for some reason? So I’m not sure what that’s about.

Interesting when it comes to lore-

(Un related but I think these two, or the main lab vamps are dating-)

So it’s about a town of vampires, named purgatory(HA) ..... in the middle of the desert. Wouldn’t that be literal hell for vampires? Yes but also no. Ok so I LOVE how this universe has vampires use everyday things, that sometimes we joke about them doing. So there’s extremely strong sunscreen, sunglasses and gloves etc, the use of umbrellas, and the sort of black out glass. Where you can see out but the sun doesn’t get in etc. Which honestly the entire concept is  hilarious, and I love everyone sitting in whatever store, the door opens and everyone hisses and shields themself. That has to be like 6 times a day.

The town of purgatory itself too is kinda amazing in the way it’s vampires from all different ages just vibing? Like we have the cute german couple that own the general store and just love each other? Forever. Something about seeing people in garb from French Revolution, Victorian, the roaring twenties , even the 80s is amazing. It’s the same thing I praised Once bitten for and Hook(not vampires but similar in all time periods in one). THE STRAWS ARE GREAT (Vamp fangs aren’t straws is my criticism but I just think they’re a cute design lmao.)

FINALLY SOME FUCKING BAT CONTENT

We get vampires in bat form(lost boys take notes you completely imply it-) and it’s plot relavent! It’s also both funny and lore. at one point it implies your naked in bat form but in the next we see people in and out without having to change. So my  consensus is Shane is just a freak(like we didn’t already know). This mf-

Also the range and transformation sequence. They do have just plain fangs but can also range from

Lost boys to fright night to full on bat creature in vamped out forms which is cool as shit



Fangs come out when Hungry or ‘over emotional’ which is 💕 losing my fucking mind rn

Comedy-

God tier I could not explain this movie coherently if I tried. Just everything from the way the town and universe works, down to lines and physical comedy.

Shane calling himself daddy is something I will pay never to here again.

I’m not going to say any here just to get you to watch the movie yourself

The conflict-

So the main fight of the movie actually makes sense and is pretty reasonable.

Those on the side of the town v “hey we’re vampires killing is what we do, the fake stuff is kinda bad”

Honestly I kinda agree with both sides. On one hand I like the town and I like what they have going, everyone can sort of do they’re on thing and they don’t have to hunt every night to feed etc. Hell they’re even out during the day.

Ah the same time I can agree with the rebellion. They’re vampires! Killing is what they do, what they enjoy, that and ... they are right the fake stuff is both the wrong color and cold. At the very least add some food dye and make it warm then maybe everyone’s happy idk.

Also WOODEN BULLETS THATS AWESOME.

So David is both great and horrible at the same time, he’s annoying and funny at the same time too. He - he needs to stop trying help vamps are dying because of your dumbass.

Also Bruce Campbell is in this movie and he is fantastic. A complete dumbass but fantastic.

[vampireshdtw]

The Batman VS Dracula (2005)

Tonight Eve, Henry, and Matt watched The Batman VS Dracula!

The Batman VS Dracula, released in 2005 and directed by Michael Goguen, is about Batman fighting a new, supernatural foe who wishes to take over Gotham.

---

The vampires in this movie are tenacious, immortal creatures that thirst for human blood. Petty injuries like punches and falls do little to stop them, and their supernatural strength and speed make them incredibly difficult to fight. Running from them proves to be a challenge with their extremely high jumping capabilities and their ability to climb up walls like spiders. If a victim tries to hide, they can use their superior sense of smell to follow the scent of their blood, and when they’re near, the vampire can see through their skin and directly into their veins to see their prize. When they’re cornered, the victim can only struggle helplessly as the vampire uses their fangs to drink their blood.

If the bite doesn’t kill them, the vampire’s victim joins the head vampire’s legion of undead minions, following their commands with little of their original personalities left intact- although there are exceptions when confronted with especially powerful personalities. Apart from drinking human blood, vampires are also capable of eating raw meat and insects.

The head vampire of any given area is undoubtedly the most powerful, stemming from the fact that they aren’t ex-human like their minions, but rather their own supernatural species. Because of this, they are capable of doing everything their minions can do, while also being able to use mind control, which can be used to create human servants that protect their coffins during the day, as well as enter a bat or mist form.

Defeating a vampire is near-impossible without making copious use of their weaknesses. If one can’t see the vampire’s gaunt features and glowing blue eyes, a surefire sign of their condition is their lack of reflection in silver-backed mirrors. Garlic hung around the home, rubbed onto weapons, or implemented into explosives can ward them off, but do little to actually harm them- it is assumed the same could be said for articles of faith such as crosses, given their avoidance of them, but the specifics are unknown.

A vampire staked in the heart can be considered defeated, seeing as it renders them immobile and prevents them from nourishing themselves, turning them into dried, skeletal husks; however upon receiving even a drop of blood, they return to a functional state, capable of feeding themselves once again. The most certain way to kill them is with sunlight, which burns them to ashes. But even then, they can be revived with a ritual involving a living human’s soul, conducted by a head vampire.

A noteworthy element of these vampires is the effect vampirism has on human blood. Rather than being entirely dead, humans bitten by a vampire are inflicted with a disease that alters the form and traits of their red blood cells. A serum made to combat this alteration can cure turned humans, however they retain no memory of their time as a vampire.

---

Oh wow! I absolutely didn’t expect this movie to be as cool as it was! With it being aimed at kids and teens, the movie lets itself be absolutely shameless in how vampire-y it is, and I fucking adored it. The voice acting was great, the perspectives they used were exciting, and I really think more vampire movies should take a page out of their book. Great movie! (Matt)

I forgot how much I loved Batman! Interesting homage to the original (even if it disrespects my homegirl Carmilla- don't think I missed that), plays with the Bat v. Bat themes with some awesome pay-off. Henry said it was the best Dracula we'd seen yet and I.. can't disagree at all... He was intimidating, creepy, and yet weirdly compelling. Fight scenes were great, and the gothic undertones really helped to produce a great sense of style. Some parts of it seemed like they were designed to inspire Dracula x Batman fanfic, and honestly I half-wrote dialogue in my head while watching. Great stuff. Truly this was Gotham for the goths. (Eve)

I was the one to recommend this movie, as I saw it when I was a lot younger. It more than exceeded my expectations from what I remember. Peter Stormare is probably my favourite version of Dracula that we've watched so far. He's over-the-top and camp but never loses his menace and is genuinely creepy at points. The movie has great animation and shots that really add to the dark atmosphere of Gotham City descending into chaos. There's a bunch of really fun ideas as well, like the Joker becoming a vampire, that the movie mines their full potential out of. A really solid, good movie that I would recommend! Also Batman and Dracula are gay, no I will not elaborate any more. (Henry)

[queersturbate]

Hope tomorrow is a better day for you :(

Have you read any good fics lately? What were they?

Any headcanons you want to talk about?

heyhey bug!

thank you so much :) I just woke up in a bad mood, i won't bore you with the details tho! im watching buzzfeed unsolved and answering some asks now so i hope i feel better soon! i really appreciate this thank you! <3

ah i have read some good fanfics!! yes! I think i found one of my new top favorite lawlight fics a few days ago! (does that sentence make sense? idk pretend it does!)

I really love a tithe to hell by Aja which is an old lawlight fic- like it was published in 2007! I think that's cool :)

i've been rereading fics of late and they're ones i've already recommended. they made me happy so i enjoy rereading them! i found a sugar daddy fic that im excited to read! oh it's: friends with financial benefits by anonymous i started reading this but didnt get very far but it seems very good!

hmm i think a headcanon i want to talk more about is Lawlight and their shared interest in halloween that i mentioned in a previous ask! I'm going to talk just a but about it so it doesn't get too long!

I think Light would dress up as a vampire- he likes the aesthetic of them! long, thin, black slacks! big poofy white shirts captured by a velvety red and black vest, sharp teeth, blood, long dramatic capes, slicked back hair! ugh! he would just l o v e it i think! L has no interest in dressing up, all his interest goes toward the 🌟candy ⭐️ but L would dress him up as a vampire along with him and L would allow it! but only two important pieces: the fangs and the cape. The man is basically a vampire already just needs the sharp fangs and some drama! I feel like they'd dress up ("dress up" in L's case) only to eat candy and watch horror movies (and i mean horror movies, like banned horror movies, if you watch this you will get fucked up you will not sleep dont watch this!...they dont bother the two at all LMAO)

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

vampire!minghao being a hard dom plss i keep thinking about it oof - bunny shua anon

I feel like he would start off deceptively gentle. You know how strong he actually is, how dangerous he is when you’re technically prey. And the fact that you know he could be rougher but he has you losing your mind for him, barely lifting a finger to do it. 

He’d move so fast to push you against the wall but never slam you and it still takes your breath away. His hand would find your throat and he’d murmur in your ear about how loud your pulse was, how he could feel each beat of your heart under his fingers and he delicious you are. He’d squeeze just a little as a cool hand slips between your legs and he’d start playing with you through your panties as he nips at your ear and tells you how much of a treat you are and muses about how much he should let himself indulge.

And he l o v e s the way it makes your knees weak and how fast you get wet from every word pouring from his lips. He’ll keep teasing you until you get shaking and you’re grabbing at him and whimpering for more as you try and grind against his fingers frustrated with nothing inside you.

He’s not nearly done playing with you though. He’d pick you up so easily with his superhuman strength, as if you were light as a feather. And your head is already spinning when he nearly throws you onto the bed before moving too slow, taking all the time in the world undressing you and warning you smoothly to be good and not move. He’d have you hold your hands above your head on the bed and not move them as he kisses all over you body and drags his fangs everywhere. You’d whine and whimper and move your hips and get desperate for more of his touch, especially when he comes so close. 

Babbles and whines fall off your lips when he finally presses two fingers into you, only to pull them out a moment later and taste them. And you squirm as he muses about what part of you tastes better, before trailing his lips all over you body again frustratingly slow and teasing your clit every once in a while to keep you worked up and wanting more. Each time he comes close to biting you and stopping you let out a whine.

If you whine too much you’ll find yourself tied down while he carries in some ice cubes. And he’ll smirk when you gasp and let out little cries at the feeling, too cold against your sensitive skin and he tells you that good pets take what they’re given and don’t complain. And “sorrys” and “pleases” are falling off your lips but he doesn’t stop until you’re a complete mess, only then undoing you and taking off his own clothes and lying down and telling you to make him feel good.

He won’t even help you while you ride him, instead watching you and telling you that for such a whiny little whore you aren’t working that hard when he knows you what you really want is to be fucked hard. And all of it has your head spinning and your core dripping and every time you squeeze around him from his degrading words he can’t help but smirk at you and tease you even more. He lets you go until you’re panting and frustrated and begging him to use you like the fuck toy you are and only then will he flip you over.

Because for all of his composure he’s so fucking horny it’s unreal and his whole demeanor would change as he pins you down and sinks his teeth into your neck, drawing a cry from your lips before fucking you hard, letting out moans at your taste and fucking you well beyond your first orgasm, merely giggling at the way your over-sensitive body squirms for him

[noladyme]

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 4

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

CHAPTER 3

I had the driver take me to Reunion Tower; not wanting to go back to the hotel just yet. Clutching the package in my arms, I stood for a long time, looking at the panoramic view of Dallas. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t appreciate it; being too rattled from my encounter with Thomas. He didn’t remember me, and yet he’d sent me the picture of myself dancing; and the one of me and Sam talking. Or had he? I was confused, and afraid.

After I watched the sun set over the city, my phone rang; and I picked up the call. “Hi. You’re late”, I heard Pam’s bored voice. “Oh… right. I’m sorry”, I said. “Fråga henne var I helvete hon är!”, Eric thundered in the background. “I’m supposed to ask where in the hell you are…”, Pam said. “I’m on my way back”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few. I have the package”. “Är hon I säkerhet?”, Eric said. “You could ask her yourself…”, Pam said. Someone threw something made of glass. “You should probably hurry up… Before we have to pay for this place to be renovated”, Pam said. “I’m on my way”, I said, and hung up.

I told the driver to hurry back to the hotel, and almost ran into the suite. A maid was sweeping up some broken glass from the floor, and a recliner was almost torn in half. Pam was reading yet another magazine on the couch. I had been right about Erics comfort about his own nakedness, as he stormed into the living room – lips drawn back in a snarl – without even closing his robe before Pam or anyone else might see him. It was only when the maids jaw dropped, that he finally decided to cover himself up. He was holding the torn-up dress I’d been wearing the night before, and threw it on the coffee table. “Goddammit, Eric. That was couture!”, Pam said. “Please tell me the boots are ok”. “Get out”, Eric said to the maid. “Sir, I just need to…”. “I said, get the fuck out!”, he growled. The woman almost ran out of the room. “Great, now I have to go out for breakfast”, Pam said.

Eric walked up close to me; staring me down. “Where the fuck have you been?”, he said. I moved around him, and put the package on the table. “I went to see that photographer, like you asked me to”, I said quietly. A V-amped psychopath, who would have probably hurt me, if he hadn’t been glamoured to forget me. “You should have been back hours ago!”. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep from screaming at him. “What the fuck do you care? You only just rose”. Pam raised a brow at me; and I almost offered her some popcorn with her show.

Cherishing my life more than that, I instead headed towards my room. Eric stormed after me; and took a firm hold of my arm. I instantly froze in place. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry”, I breathed, not daring to meet Eric’s eyes. He let go, and seconds later, I found myself seated on the edge of the bed, with the vampire kneeling in front of me. “What happened?”, he asked. “Nothing… Nothing happened”, I said. I wasn’t lying – nothing had happened. Thomas hadn’t touched me; not in the way I’d feared he would if he ever saw me again. “Pam, go get ready. Take the gift, and make it more presentable”, Eric said almost inaudibly. I heard the door to the suite close behind Pam as she left.

I was shaking in front of Eric, and he brushed his knuckles down my cheek. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me”, he said. “I would never hurt you”. “I know…”, I whispered. “Do you?”, he asked. I didn’t reply. “Liv; look at me”. I raised my eyes, and met his. They were gentle, even warm. “I do… It’s just this place… those vampires last night”. This time, I was lying; a little. Eric raised his brows at me. “That’s why I don’t want you alone after sunset”, he said. “I can’t protect you when I don’t know where you are”. “I know”, I nodded, and looked down again. “And I should have been back before sunset. It’s what you’re paying me for”.

He put a finger under my chin, and made me look up at him. “Did you think I was angry because of the job?”, he asked. “I don’t know, what I think… Why didn’t you just get someone else to come to Dallas with you?”. My voice was sharp; surprising even myself. “Don’t give me some story about meetings and stuff; I don’t even know what kind of information I’m supposed to pass on to you”. “You know why”, Eric said. “So… we could have sex; and you could get over your thing for me…”, I almost whispered. He frowned at me. “When I realized you were gone, after I rose…”. He clenched his jaw. “Yeah, I saw that chair in there”, I muttered. “I don’t do that… I don’t lose control”, Eric said. “But I did, because of you".

I put a tentative hand on his shoulder. Eric leaned closer to me, and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck, and he pulled me of the bed; onto his lap, so I was straddling him. I whimpered softly, when he suckled at my lover lip, and slid his hand down to my butt; squeezing it. “If we had enough time, I would fuck you on the floor right now”, Eric said against my lips. His robe had opened; and looking down, his erection was telling me that he was being truthful. “Later?”, I asked hopefully. “Greedy…”, Eric chuckled. I blushed, and turned my face away. “No, I like it”, he assured me; and kissed my neck near the fang-marks form the night before.

I pulled back slightly. “Eric… Could you make them go away?”, I asked. He set me back on the bed, and got up to stand; removing his robe, and throwing it into a corner, before walking back towards his own room. “Yes, but I won’t”, he said. “It’s better that you have the marks tonight. There will be even more vampires we must convince of you being mine…”. He turned around facing me in all his glory. “Unless, you changed your mind…”, he said, raising a brow at me. “I didn’t”, I assured him. He grunted, and rolled his eyes; before continuing into his room. “The red dress”, he said, as he walked away. “Oh, and we’re going to talk about whatever it is Sugar and Spice means. You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”.

“Fuck…”, I muttered to myself.

---

“You were a stripper?”, Pam said. “I knew you had at least one redeeming quality”.

We were seated in a sedan again; on our way to Godrics house, where the opening ceremony of the conference would be held. Eric had more or less been glued to my side, after I stepped out of the bathroom wearing the dress, he’d chosen for me. My chest was pushed up by the tight fabric, and he’d looked hungry in more than one way, when he saw me. Now, his face was pointed forwards as I sat next to him in the limo. I didn’t know if he was pissed or didn’t care, now that I had told him and Pam about my former job. His face gave nothing away.

“I didn’t strip…”, I said. “Wasn’t really a reason to; I was already wearing so little”. “So, you just danced in your underwear?”, Pam asked. “Yeah… Was good at it, too”. I wasn’t going to make some stupid Viking make me feel bad about a job I had enjoyed. At least up until the part where I had to drop everything, and run away. “How are you with a pole?”, Pan said. “Enough”, Eric said. “We’re here”.

The limo stopped in front of a beautiful modern house, and Eric stepped out first; giving both Pam and I a hand to exit the car. I was once again in a pair of ridiculously high heels, and finding it difficult to walk behind my vampire companions; but knew that we were in business mode, and I needed to know my place as a lowly human. I wasn’t supposed to complain; I should be honored to even be there. I was carrying a cloth wrapped package – the item I’d picked up from Thomas’ studio. Taking the lead of our little parade, Eric nodded at the vampire guarding the door; and we entered the large room – without me falling over in the process.

Stan seemed to hold court in a corner, surrounded by vampires and a few humans. His meal from the night before had been lent out to another vamp, who was snacking from her wrist on a large white sofa. Isabel was nearby, looking in Stan's direction, while conversing with Carl – a worried expression on her face.

Eric stopped at the end of a line, going up to a large double door. I went to stand behind him and Pam, but he reached back to grab my arm, and tug me forward; so that I stood next to him. “Do you remember the rules?”, he asked. “Don’t speak unless spoken to. Keep my head down. Don’t attract attention”, I muttered. “You’re going to have trouble with that last part”, he said. “You look delicious in that dress”. He looked down at me. “I’ll take the blame for that”, he said, smiling slightly. So, he wasn’t pissed.

After waiting for what seemed like forever – especially in uncomfortable shoes – it was our turn to face our host. The double doors opened, and we stepped into an office. Godric was seated in a recliner, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Eric kneeled in front of his maker; but as Pam didn’t follow, I thought I didn’t need to either. I was only furniture, after all.

“It is good to see you again”, Godric said; and put his hand on Erics head. “As is custom, I have brought you a gift”, Eric said, and got up to stand. I looked at the large desk, and saw a spread of items – ranging from jewelry, to an ancient looking sword, to what looked like a solid gold cowboy boot. Eric turned to look at me, letting me know to hand over the package.

I stepped forward, and handed Godric the bundle, making sure to keep my eyes down. Godric placed his cool hand on top of mine, and I raised my eyes to see that his were trailing my neck. He looked at me, and smiled almost sadly. “Thank you”, he said. “Eric. You’ve tasted”. “I have”, Eric said. “She is… like nothing I have tasted before”. “I’m not a fucking juice-box. Stop talking about me like that!”, I hissed.

Pam’s jaw dropped, and Eric looked impossibly paler than before. “Liv…!”, Eric said below his breath. “Stay quiet”. Godric smiled broadly. “You’re the first human who’s dared to speak out loud in my presence tonight”, he said. “That is the best gift so far”. Eric looked down at the floor; and Godric got an expression, like a parent in front of a disappointed child. “But, I am sure I will be glad for this as well”, he said, and began unwrapping the velvet cloth from around the gift.

Inside was a black wooden frame, surrounding a photograph, of three figures. I looked over it quickly, recognizing two of the people photographed. Eric and Godric. The third was a woman.

“1839, Cormeilles-en-Parisis”, Eric said. “The last time…”. “The last time we were all together”, Godric said. “Louis Daguerre captured the moment, before Nora glamoured him to forget”. Eric smiled softly. “She had to. We almost drained his assistant”. “He lived”, Godric said. He looked up at Eric. “It is a good memory, Eric. Thank you”. Eric nodded with what verged on a warm smile.

The door opened, and Isabel stepped inside. “Godric, 13 is waiting”, she said. “And we all know what happens when Rose is kept waiting too long”, Godric almost sighed. “Eric, I will have need for your human at the ceremony". Eric frowned for a moment. “Yes, Godric”.

We left the room quickly, and once again I kept behind Eric and Pam. We went outside into the yard, where a platform had been raised on the middle of the lawn. Strange music – like classical techno – came from some speakers, and vampires were mingling, having quiet conversations. “What was that about?", I asked. Eric gave me a look out the corner of his eyes. “I’m not sure", he muttered; seemingly very unhappy about that fact. I wasn’t just unhappy. I was afraid. I didn’t know what Godric wanted from me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “He has need for me? What am I supposed to do?”. “I don’t know!”, he thundered. “But you will be fine… I’m sure of it”. I wasn’t.

All the attending sheriffs and their companions gathered on the lawn; and as my heels were sinking into the ground below me, Eric put an arm around my waist to keep me standing. “Maybe you should have gone barefoot”, he said quietly. “Dick”, I muttered. “Later”, Eric promised, making tingles run down my spine.

“Welcome vampire-sheriffs of the Americas”, Isabel said, having gotten on the platform accompanied by Stan and Godric. I guessed Isabel was some sort of deputy-sheriff; I didn’t know too much about vampire politics. “Before we start the ceremony, let me go over a few of the agreed upon statutes for our convention”. The strict-looking female vampire raised her hand, but Isabel halted her. “Rose, your objections have already been noted; and the suggested changes from Area 13 will be voted on at the appropriate time”. “She wasn’t at the party last night”, I whispered. “Because she’s a boring cunt”, Pam said. “Now shut up”.

Isabel continued. “Feeding on willing humans will be allowed, outside meetings. Sheriff Godric encourages you all to keep it in private – or at least away from humans not attending the conference. Only TruBlood will be served during meetings, for those who cannot wait until after… Claimed humans are off limits, unless their masters allow it, and the human consents…”. Eric gazed towards me, and shook his head slightly. I was off limits to anyone but him. “There will be no deaths at this convention, be they human or true deaths for vampires… Any agreements made between districts will be shared at the end of the convention”. “Fat chance”, Pam scoffed, while Eric simply raised a disbelieving brow. “These are the main points of our agreed upon statutes. The rest are in your welcome packages”, Isabel finished. “Godric will now lead the opening ceremony”.

Godric stepped forwards with a solemn expression. “Brothers and sisters – and humans”, he said. Some of the vampires sneered at his addition. “We are convened to share and learn from each other. Under our kings and queens – and under the Authority – we are to lead and guide the vampires in our areas, keeping peace and assuring prosperity; especially in our relation to the human world”. Another murmur went through the crowd. “As this is election year, this is a good a time as any for new beginnings”. “What the fuck is he doing, Eric?”, Pam whispered. “Is he trying to get killed?”. “Not now”, Eric said. “Custom is that we open the conference, by the host toasting in blood from a chosen human; who kneels at the sheriff’s feet… Eric?”.

Eric tensed up next to me. “Godric, no…”, he said almost inaudibly. “För fram din människa”, Godric said, and looked at me. I swallowed hard. “What’s happening?”, I croaked. Eric looked at me defeatedly. “Godric has chosen you to feed from”, he said. My eyes widened in fear. “He can’t do that, I’m supposed to be yours!”, I said. “I must do as he asks…”, Eric said; and with a firm grip around my arm, he led me forwards. “You’ll be fine”. “I don’t want to!”, I said. “What the hell happened to consent?”. “Do us both a favor, and shut the fuck up”, Eric said. “Just trust him”.

Eric lifted me onto the platform, as if I weighed no more than a small child; and I was now stood in front of the ancient sheriff of Area 9. Eric stepped over to stand next to Isabel and Stan. Godrics eyes were warm, and he gave me a slight smile, before turning to the crowd again. “I’ve decided to forego custom”, he said. “Peace between vampires and mankind should not be discussed, after a ceremony based on degradation of humans. We were once all humans; though some of us may have forgotten that”. I heard Stan curse below his breath, and gazing across the crowd I saw a wide range of expressions on the present vampires faces. Some where smiling, respectful even; while others – too many for my liking – looked angry, and even afraid. Godric looked at me again. “Human, I stand before you in appreciation of your life, your mortality and your bravery for being here; among us who have preyed on you for millennia. As a representative for humankind, I ask for your forgiveness for the blood I and my kind have taken from you without having been given leave to do so. I cannot ask forgiveness for the lives that have been lost; for that there can be no clemency…”. An audible gasp went through the crowd, as Godric kneeled in front of me. “I am sorry”.

“What the fuck is this, Godric?”, Stan growled. “This is not what we agreed on”. Godric ignored him. “Will you stand with me, as I proclaim this conference open – not as a lower being; but as an ally?”, he asked me. I gazed towards Eric, who had an unreadable expression on his face. He wasn’t going to tell me what to answer, as I was about to represent all humankind to these vampires “I… will”, I said, my voice shaking. Godric smiled warmly, and got on his feet; taking my hand, and raising it in the air. “I now declare this conference in session”.

The music was turned up, covering the sounds of the disgruntled murmuring among the attendees. Godric let my hand down, and looked at me. “Thank you, Liv”, he said, and nodded for Eric to come take me away. With an arm around my waist, Eric led me off the platform, and into the house again.

---

I was taken back into Godrics office, where the gifts – save the picture Eric had restored – had been removed from. The photograph of Godric, Eric, and the beautiful dark-haired woman, lay on the desk.

My knees were shaking, and Eric led me to sit in the recliner, where Godric had been greeting guests from earlier. Pam closed the doors behind us. “Seriously, Eric. What the fuck?”, she said. “What the hell is he playing at?”. “Stan was right”, Eric said quietly. “Godric is stepping down… he will have to now”. He punched his fist into the desk, making the glass surface shatter. “Fuck!”. “Did I just almost get eaten?”, I asked. “No”, Eric snarled. “Godric had no intention of feeding from you tonight”. Well, he had already had a taste once, I reminded myself. And I’d tasted him.

The double doors slammed open, and Stan stormed in; Godric and Isabel close behind. “I demand that you pull out of the running for another term as sheriff!”, Stan growled. “That display out there was bullshit!”. “It needed to be done”, Godric said. “We have to start showing respect for our human beginnings”. “It was dangerous, Godric”, Isabel said. “You may have lost many supporters”. Godric smiled softly. “Then it is good there are other candidates”, he said, raising a brow at her. Isabel shook her head. “We’ve discussed this. I am not a viable candidate, after what happened with Hugo”, she said. “Damn right, you’re not”, Stan said. “But what you just did out there, leaves me with a fuckload of cleanup once I’m sheriff, if I’m ever going to convince the other areas that Dallas don’t bend to lesser beings. What’s next? We gonna be hooking up with weres now?”. Godric went to sit by his desk. “You both have meetings to attend. Go on”, he said to his underlings. “I’m not going to let this stand”, Stan said, and left the room with vamp-speed. “Master…”, Isabel began. “Please, Isabel… go see to your meeting”. The brunette nodded, and left the room; closing the doors behind her.

The silence in the room was almost deafening, as Eric stared at his maker. I was about to open my mouth, when I saw Pam shaking her head slightly at me. “Hvarför, Godric?”, Eric muttered. “Eric, I am tired”, Godric said. “I want to step down. I don’t want another term”. “You’re the only one able to keep Stan in check”, Eric said. “Without you, it’ll be chaos!”. “I made my stance on our relations to the humans”, his maker responded. “Isabel will continue on in the track I have laid out”. “If she’s voted in!”, Eric said. “Stan is just as likely to win”.

“Don’t the local vampires vote for their own sheriff? Stan doesn’t seem very likeable; who’d want to vote for him?”, I asked. Pam rolled her eyes at my inability to stay quiet. Godric smiled overbearingly at me. “Sheriffs are officially chosen by the vampire Authority, in a popular vote among its chancellors”, he explained. “The sheriffs all speak their mind on each other, in private meetings with the chancellors”, Eric said. “Per custom, the Authority chose the sheriffs based on these conversations – and based on the chancellors’ preferences”. “So… the sheriffs choose each other, and then some higher authority confirms it? Isn’t that nepotism?”, I frowned. Godric’s smile broadened. “It is… and it is how I have remained in power so long”. “The chancellors always have the last word”, Eric muttered.

I saw Godric run his fingertips over the face of the woman on the picture in front of him. “Who is she?”, I asked. He raised his eyes, and looked at me. “That is not necessary for you to know”, Eric said, his voice almost warning me. “She is Eric’s sister”, Godric said, making Eric clench his jaw in anger. “My daughter; chancellor Nora Gainesborough. She has fought for my reelection for the last 70 years”. My eyes widened in realization. “You did what you did, so you wouldn’t have to be sheriff again!”, I said. “You didn’t mean any of what you said”. Godric shook his head. “No, I meant every word”. “You are forcing her hand”, Eric said. “Nora won’t be happy when she hears about this”. “I know it will pain her, but I cannot continue on as sheriff”, Godric said. “This was the only way… And I could make my stance clear”. “You’ve also made your future as a chancellor a complete impossibility”, Eric said.

“Enough, Eric”, Godric said, his voice instantly making Eric cower. “It is done… Now go. I want to speak to the human alone”. Eric looked back at me, and narrowed his eyes. I drew in a short breath, and shook my head – half in fear, half in confusion. “Why?”, Eric asked. “We have things to discuss, which are private”, Godric said. The Viking clenched his jaw, and tried to steady his voice. “You should know that Liv cannot be glamoured”, he said. “If she wants to share what we speak about with you, that is her choice”, Godric replied. “But I trust I don’t have to command you, to not force her to tell you”. “Of course…”, Eric said. “I have a few meetings to attend to”. “I will make sure Liv is safely returned to the hotel”, Godric said. “You can use my secretary, until she returns”. A middle-aged man stepped through the door, and bowed to Godric. Apparently, Godric didn’t see the need for scantily clad young women, when it came to choosing his staff. Eric gave me a last solemn look, before he and Pam disappeared; leaving me alone with the ancient vampire.

Godric got up to stand. “Will you take a walk with me?”, he asked. “Mind if I take off my shoes?”, I replied.

---

The dew on the grass cooled down the beginning blistering on my feet, as I walked through the yard with Godric. Some vampires were in the process of taking down the platform; but they worked so fast, that soon we were alone under the stars.

“I did not think I would ever see you again”, Godric said. “Likewise”, I said. “I need you to know, I never told anyone”. “I knew you wouldn’t”, Godric said. “And yet, as I see you now, you have the same expression of fear on your face, as you had that night. Was my part of our deal not kept up?”. “I… don’t know”, I said. “Thomas has… He’s been sending me messages. Photographs”. “And you’ve seen him again”, Godric said. “Eric’s gift came from him?”. “Eric doesn’t know about what you did… the deal we made”. Godric nodded somberly. “When you saw him… Did he remember you?”, he asked. “He didn’t seem to”, I said. “And he has a woman with him… I think he hurts her. They’re both on V”. If Godric was the kind of vampire that sighed, it was clear he would have. “There was a chance this might have happen”, he said. “The amount of vampire blood in your aggressor’s body that night, may have made him unable to be fully glamoured. Even by me”. “Is that why you couldn’t glamour me as well?”, I asked. “No, I think there is a different reason for that”, he said.

He gave me a look which reminded me of one I’d seen from Eric. “You don’t think I’m human”, I said quietly. “I think you are nothing but…”, Godric smiled. I sighed deeply. “I know you’re not used to talking to humans, but I need you to be little less… unclear”, I said. Godric didn’t reply, seemingly wanting me to explain. “I don’t understand what you mean by me being nothing but. If you know what I am – what it is that makes vampires unable to glamour me – then tell me”. Godric laughed softly. “I’m being perfectly clear. I believe you are as human as you possibly can be”, he said. “I sensed it the moment I smelled your blood. You are pure”. “So, there’s nothing else in me as well?”. “No. Nothing”, he said. “Then, why can’t I be glamoured?”, I asked. “Because of that very reason”, Godric replied. I still didn’t understand his words, but couldn’t think of a way to rephrase my question in a way that would get me a clearer answer.

We walked on for a few minutes. Godric didn’t seem like the type to speak more than necessary, but he seemed willing – even enthused – to speak to me. “You seemed unhappy that Eric gave me his blood”, I said. Godric frowned slightly. “When he did, it was to create a blood-bond with you, wasn’t it?”, he asked. I nodded. “When I gave you mine, it was to heal you. I admit my reason for helping you wasn’t exactly noble; but I wasn’t trying to seduce you”. I instantly blushed. “Eric isn’t really the healing kind, I suppose”, I muttered, and absentmindedly put my fingers to the fang-marks on my neck. “He’s marked you as his, even if you are not”, Godric said, a slight distaste in his voice. “He’s always been…”. “Possessive?”, I said. “Not the word I would use”, Godric smiled. “He doesn’t usually have problem sharing humans as meals or sexual partners. But when he’s set his mind on having something for himself, he is not one to give up”.

We’d come back to the house, and I pulled at some grass with my toes. “I guess he’s had many”, I said; once again without earning a response. “Humans, I mean”. “He’s had a millennium to feed on all the humans he wished; it took me 200 years to teach him how to avoid killing his prey”, Godric said. “But he has not had many he called his own. His sister was one, before she contracted the plague, and Eric brought her to me to be turned”. “Nora…”, I said. “Who was she to him?”. “Sister… lover… Vampire relationships can be many things”, Godric said. I had to keep my jaw from dropping. “You find this… wrong?”. “I… don’t know”, I said. “Your ways are just… very different”. Godric couldn’t help but laugh a little at my statement. “After more than 2000 years being what I am, your ways are also very foreign to me”, he said. “I hope to learn”.

Once we were back in the house, I chewed my lip for a moment, before getting the courage to ask my next question. “You don’t think your glamour on Thomas took?”. I didn’t want to offend the ancient deadly vampire, by calling him impotent as I had Eric. “If it didn’t, we might both have a problem”, Godric said. “What happened that night could turn out to…”. “Bite us both in the ass”, I said. “Pardon the pun”. Godric laughed again. “I understand why Eric has taken a liking to you”, he said. “Speaking of which… I did not only ask for your secrecy for my own sake, but also for his. Both Nora, Eric, and his progeny, Pam, could be in danger from the authority; if it is revealed what I did”. “I understand”, I said. Godric raised his brows at me. “You do?”, he asked disbelievingly. “No”, I admitted. “I don’t really understand your rules or… laws, or whatever”.

I tugged at the hem of my dress, to cover up some. One of the vampires that had stayed behind to clean up after the ceremony, was looking hungrily at my thighs. “I’d think helping me was a good thing, seeing as you’re trying to improve your relationship with humans”. Godric shook his head. “California is what is called a dry state. Biting a human is illegal by your laws there; and heavily frowned upon in our statutes. Though there are those of us who do not believe in following human laws, the official stance on it, is that we are to mainstream, and follow them. To add to that, I gave my ancient blood to a human that has no known value to our community”. I scoffed. “That’s me. No Value Sally”, I muttered. “Can’t even rhyme for shit”.

Godric took me by surprise, by putting a hand on my cheek. Where Eric’s touch was cool, Godric’s was in fact cold; reminding me I hadn’t seen him feed all evening. “You have more value than you can comprehend”, he said. “I admit, that if you didn’t, I might not have helped you that night. I was selfish. Your blood spoke to me – to my memory of different times – and I wanted to taste it. What that man was doing to you, would have killed you; and I would not have had the pleasure”. “You could have just waited until I was dead”, I said. “I do not require much blood to survive”, Godric said, and removed his hand from my cheek. “But what I take, I prefer to be from live, willing donors. I did not wish to make our encounter different. I don’t wish to kill any human”. “What would happen to you, if it came out what happened?”, I asked. “Usually, the vampire that committed the crime would be defanged. In my case – with my age and knowledge of our laws – the punishment would be much more severe; to set an example”. “True death”, I whispered. Godric nodded solemnly.

The vampire who had been admiring my thighs, stepped forwards, and bowed his head to Godric. “Sheriff, your meeting with 16 is in an hour”. Godric nodded. “Liv… Thank you for speaking with me”. I shrugged embarrassedly. “You didn’t really get anything from me. I mostly just asked you questions”. “Your conversation and bluntness has been a gift in itself”, Godric smiled. “Let me walk you out to the car”.

Eric had left behind the sedan for me; probably having flown back to the hotel himself. “Can I ask you one final question?”, I said to Godric, as we stood in front of it in the driveway. He didn’t respond, which I took as a yes. “Why would Eric and Pam be in danger from knowing about what happened? And Nora, if she’s a part of the Authority…?”. Godric frowned slightly. “Eric would be obligated to turn me in to the Authority”, he said. “And he’d feel honor-bound to me to not do so. At one point or another, the truth will come out; and if he is revealed to know of my crime, he’d be sentenced alongside me. He would fight, and he would die. Pamela would go down along-side him… And Nora… Having a criminal maker, could take away her position as chancellor”.

I got into the limo, and gave Godric a final smile. “I’ll stay quiet”, I said. “To protect Eric”, Godric said. I frowned. “Yes… But also, for you”, I said. “You saved my life. I owe you”. “You already paid me back”, Godric smiled. “You let me have your blood”. “Still… Thank you”. Godric nodded in response, and closed the door of the limo.

I sunk down into my seat, and sighed heavily. Eric would want answers when I returned to the hotel.

---

Pam had sent me a message, letting me know to go to a conference room in the hotel. I quickly changed into more conservative clothes – the tight pants and top I’d planned on wearing for the party the night before – and grabbed a quick dinner of a granola-bar from the mini-fridge; before rushing to meet up with her and Eric. They were already seated by a long table; and Eric gave me an approving once over, before nodding for me to stand by the other humans by the wall – one of them being Javier, who’s cheeks were pinker than they’d been the night before. Though disgruntled about being placed in the corner like a piece of furniture – again – at least I’d worn flats this time, and wouldn’t have to worry about falling over where I stood.

Around the table, two other sheriffs and their deputies were sat. One of them was Carl, and the other was a striking woman – striking, mostly due to her overbite. I wondered if her fangs stuck out like her front teeth did, when they were exposed. I must have been very obvious in my speculating – maybe due to my biting my lip – because Pam gazed up at me, and nodded. I stifled a grin.

“If you gentlemen don’t mind, I haven’t eaten all night”, Overbite said, and gestured at a nearby table set up with bottles. “I ordered TruBlood for us all”. The two other human secretaries went over to grab bottles for their bosses, and I followed in their tracks. I let my hand travel over the bottles, looking covertly back at Eric, who nodded slightly, when I got to a bottle of AB negative. Expensive taste, I thought to myself, and grabbed two bottles for him and Pam; before heading back to them, to set them down. I didn’t get a thank you from either vampire, but felt Eric’s hand ghost the back of my thigh, sending shivers down my spine. I went back to stand by the wall.

“Let’s keep this short and sweet, shall we?”, Carl said. “I have some Argentinian twins waiting in my room”. “Well, you were the one to call for this meeting between our areas; why don’t you start it off?”, Overbite said. “Relax, Rose”, Carl said. “It’s nothing as serious as that”. “Then what is it?”, Eric said. Carl sat back in his chair. “My salons”, he said. “I’m thinking of branching out into other states. Specifically, Louisiana and Florida. Humans in your states seem very keen on getting the right… shade”. For a moment, I stood in confusion. “There are enough spas in Florida as it is”, Overbite – or Rose – said. My jaw almost dropped to the floor, when I realized Carl handled in tanning-salons. It struck me as quite counter-productive for a vampire. “We do spray tans as well”, Carl said. “Quite popular among local vampires in California”. Pam seemed intrigued for a moment.

“What’s in it for us?”, Eric said. “Half off on treatments”, Carl smiled. “You could do well to freshen up that pasty Scandinavian hue”. Pam laughed in the sarcastic was only she could. “You want to impose on Eric’s territory without paying for the privilege?”, she said. “Fat chance”. Eric gave Pam a short look, and she sat back in her chair; taking a sip from her bottle of TruBlood. “I take 50 percent, or co-ownership of all vampire businesses in Area 5”, he said. Now I knew where his money came from. “Same for me”, Rose said. Carl shook his head. “That’s out of the question”. “Then this meeting is over”, Eric said, and made to stand.

“20 percent”, Carl said. Eric halted. “40”, he retorted. Carl grimaced. “25…”. Eric smiled overbearingly. “30. And 10 percent ownership”, he said. “Carl, there’s never been a vampire business in Area 5 that has survived its first month; without my support”. “Because you’ve had the buildings burned down”, Rose said, raising a brow at him. Eric shrugged.

Carl clenched his jaw, before slamming his fist into the table. “Fine… But you handle finding locations”, he said. “Already have a few in mind”, Eric smiled. “Send your plans to my email. We’ll be in touch”. So, vampires had email addresses; I realized. “Will do”, Carl said, his expression turning back to smiling. “Rose?”. The third sheriff thought for a moment. “I’m sure we could come to a similar understanding with Florida”, she said. Eric got up to stand, and Pam followed. “Well, then I guess this meeting is adjourned”.

Eric and Pam nodded at the other vampires, but Rose didn’t move. “I’d like to have another word with you Carl. If you don’t mind…”. Carl shrugged. “Of course”, he said. “But we must follow the statutes. Eric, we will need your human as witness; unless you can spare your deputy…?”. “I need Pam with me. We have Area 2 coming up”. The other vampires nodded.

Eric went over to stand in front of me. “I’ll see you in our suite later”, he said; before looking at me meaningfully. “Do your job”. I nodded. Eric was telling me one of the vampires he was leaving me with, would probably try to glamour me to forget what was about to be discussed. I was also about to be alone in a room with completely strange vampires – one of which had made it clear he wouldn’t mind a taste of my blood. Eric seemed to realize this himself, because he seemed reluctant to leave. “I’ll be fine”, I whispered, trying to convince the both of us. He nodded shortly, and grazed my jaw with his knuckles, before following Pam out of the room.

After a few moments, Javier checked the door to see that no one was listening in; and nodded back towards Carl and Rose, before returning to his post by the wall. “This conversation will be off the record”, Rose said. “Of course”, Carl said. “Nothing will leave this room. What can I do for you?”. Rose sat up straight in her chair. “Stan is moving for the sheriffs post in 9”, she said. “That’s no secret…”, Carl said. “And he’ll have it, after that shit Godric pulled tonight”. “Not if Isabel decides to run”, Rose said. “After her human betrayed us like he did? Not likely”, Carl scoffed. “More likely than you think. Her maker is chancellor… And she’ll continue in the track Godric has laid out”.

Both vampires looked intently at each other for a long moment. “You want me to push for Stan to win”, Carl said. “We need as many as possible to do so”, Rose nodded. “If we have enough sheriffs behind Stan, we can force the Authority to make the right choice”. “And Stan is the right choice?”. “Area 9 has sway over the surrounding areas. They follow where 9 leads”, Rose said. “Even Northman listens when Dallas speaks”. Carl chuckled, and shook his head. “Only because Godric is his maker”, he said. “And you still haven’t told me why Stan is the best candidate”.

“This is why!”, Rose growled; grabbed her bottle of TruBlood, and threw it at the wall next to me. The liquid sprayed across the wall, and on me. I made sure not to move; though my knees were shaking. “Ever since we came out into the open among the humans, we have been living like culled animals. We shouldn’t have to take our nourishment from a bottle, when there are cattle walking about; fresh for the reaping!”. Humans were the cattle, I gathered. “That is a dangerous opinion to have in the open”, Carl said. “And feeding from willing humans isn’t illegal”. “Human law should not apply to us!”, Rose snarled. “It’s demeaning to let them consider themselves our equals… When I want to feed, I feed. You don’t ask the cow whether it wants to be butchered!”. There she went with the cattle references again. I was beginning to feel a knot growing in my stomach, and kept my eyes hard on a speck of the spilt TruBlood, on the toe of my shoe.

“You think making Stan a sheriff will make a difference in that matter?”, Carl asked. “He will set the tone for a different relationship with the humans”, Rose said. “And as I said, where Dallas leads…”. “The surrounding areas follow”, Carl said. “That won’t change the stance taken by the Authority on vampire/human relations”. “Fuck the Authority!”.

Carl’s jaw dropped. “Rose… that is treason”. Rose clenched her jaw; a strangely amusing sight, due to her overbite. “What are they good for, anyway? All they do is sit and drum out guidelines and rules they don’t even follow themselves”. She leaned forwards. “Once we’ve gotten Stan elected, I say we create our own set of rules for all of the southern states”. “You’re talking civil war…”, Carl said. The other vampire shrugged. “If it comes to that”.

Carl seemed to shrink in his seat a bit; his flamboyant demeanor no where to be found. “I don’t know if we’re on the same page”, he said. Rose gazed over at Javier. “You can’t be serious… Don’t tell me warm dick is clouding your judgement”, she said. I was finding it harder and harder to keep my composure; I wanted to run screaming from the room. I noticed Javier swallowing hard next to me. “Leave Javi’ out of this”, Carl said. “I wouldn’t dream of touching your pet”.

The two vampires were quiet for another moment, before Rose spoke again. “We have an opportunity to create a new future for our kind. I’m just asking you to stand on the right side of history. You know I’m right; you have always been one to take what you wanted. It’s in our nature”. “We’re not animals”, Carl said. “No, but we could be gods; if we just take what is ours”, Rose said. “I’ll give you some time to think it over, but you should know, the wheels are in motion; whatever happens from the Authorities side. We want to keep this civil, but if they make the wrong choice, we do have a contingency plan. We’re not going to sit idly by, as Isabel drags the south into the mud along with the blood-bags Godric calls allies”. “And if Godric doesn’t step down? If he runs for another term, he will be chosen”, Carl said. “He won’t… even if he does, we have ways to take him down”. “Like what?”.

A smile ghosted Rose’s face. “You know as well as me, that sheriff Godric isn’t as squeaky clean as he pretends to be… He has been breaking a few laws himself”. She knew. She might not know the human Godric had broken the laws for was me, but she knew what he’d done. “We’re past that, Rose…”, Carl said. “Are we?”, she smiled. “Talk to Stan… Let him at least try to convince you”. Carl got up to stand. “I’ll talk to Stan”, he said. “For now, I have another meeting”. Rose nodded, and got up herself. “We will need to glamour Northman’s human. You go on, I’ll take care of it”.

After Carl, his deputy, and Javier left the room, Rose walked over to me. I kept my eyes on the floor, until she was right up in my face. “Look at me”, she said. I let my eyes meet hers. “Liv… isn’t it?”. “Yes”, I said. “Liv… You smell… different”. Her fangs popped out, and as I’d figured, they stuck out along with her front teeth. I bit my tongue too keep from giving away the amusement that was mixing with my fear – a confusing mixture of emotions, honestly. I worked hard to let my eyes go blank. “You just heard two vampires discuss business, didn’t you…?”. “Yes…”. “You heard us talking about how sheriff Rockford is going to set up four new spas across my Area. We only talked about that, weren’t we…?”. “Sheriff Rockford is branching out in Florida”, I said. “And then we toasted in TruBlood, that you served us. But you were clumsy, and dropped a bottle; making it spray all over the room, and on yourself”. “I was clumsy…”, I breathed. “That was all we spoke about”. “Yes…”. Rose patted my cheek. “Good girl. Now run along”.

I left the room as quickly as I could.

[lizzy-williams]

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 (𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐔) 𝟔/?

✥ Warnings: Language, drugs, gore, blood, sexual references. smut?

✥ Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xl3ErxQa3iw

Lovers by American Horror Story: Hotel Score

((The vampires in this series are based heavily off of the vampires in AHS: Hotel, it’s my favorite season right next to Freakshow.))

masterlist

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 inclined to like feasting on blood bags. Once you found other ways to extract blood, you used blood bags as a last resort. You loved the messiness biting someone caused, the way that the scarlet red liquid would stick to your face and dry like paint. 

Colson loved watching you. When you were feeding, his own hunger was taken over by the feeling of intrigue. It was marveling to him how your body would move as you drank, how you took into account the victim’s movements. And yet you would never kill. You had restraint, which was hard to find, especially with someone who was recently turned. 

Just like tonight. 

You straddled the young woman, looking up at her for approval, and she nodded her head frantically. 

You dragged your thumb horizontally. At that point, your eyes were a deep garnet as you placed a quick but passionate kiss on her lips before bringing her wrist up to your mouth, your fangs now on display, your built-in blades piercing the skin easily as you let out an erotic groan. Baze was right, she did taste good. Like cinnamon and cider. 

All the while, Kells watched you from an arm chair in the living room where you were, his head propped up against his hand that sat on top of the arm of the chair, his eyes watching your distinct movements, noticing a pattern. 

There were little things you would do while you were feeding. First, you would always try to establish passion, making everything more comfortable for everyone. Then, while you were feeding, you would stimulate them, making their blood flow quicker as their heartbeat would speed up. 

And stimulate you did, your fingers going down to her area, her skirt giving easy access as you pushed her panties to the side and rubbed your fingers on her slit, making her throw her head back as you smiled against her wrist. 

You then suddenly entered your fingers into her core, your fingers dragging across your velvet walls, her body squirming as she released whimpers. Soon, your fingers were moving quickly, and you were almost finished with her. But you waited, because you knew that the blood tasted best during orgasm. Kells had told you this many times while you were still human. 

Still human. Sometimes you missed it. But after a year of being the way you were, you had gotten used to the differences your new life had compared to your mortal one. And there was no doubt that you would rather stay this way forever than go back. 

Mainly because you had the best lover you could ever ask for. 

“F-Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” the woman cried out, her core clenching and shifting under your touch. 

You gave her a look. A look you knew would melt her on the spot. Her coil shattered as you sucked harshly on her wound, the rush of a brighter taste enveloped your taste buds. She now tasted like sunshine and cool mist on a rainy morning. 

As she calmed down from her high, you detached your mouth from her limb, her face pale but content as her eyes met yours, “Thank you,” she muttered softly.

“Feel free to stay in one of our guest rooms, you shouldn’t drive home like this. Help yourself to the food,” you quipped, standing up as you turned to Colson and smirked, walking the direction of the staircase, his form hot on your trail. 

You felt your back meet the surface of the wall. You smirked, Colson’s lips pushing into yours. 

“That was the fucking hottest thing I’ve seen in my life,” he grunted, the sounds of his fangs exposing themselves, his hands roaming up and down your body as you let out a stifled laugh, his lips pressing to your neck. 

“Hmm, well, sadly I’m not in the mood,” you said, wiggling away from his grasp before walking the rest of the length of the stairs. You knew Colson’s eyes were trained on your ass. 

You loved teasing him. Now that you were nearly equals, you were now able to dish out your fair share of teasing gestures, just as he had done to you when you were human. 

But you had to admit it to yourself, there was one human trait that still stuck with you. Even now, after you ate, you became tired. The more you ate, the more sleepy you got. But it was only 3 in the morning. 

You made your way to the bedroom, Colson following you, watching you as you stripped on the way to the bathroom tucked away in the master bedroom. Now that you were in just a bra and underwear, you saw his eyes turn a wine shade. He stood behind you as he watched your hands move as you took care of your makeup and everything else, his arms wrapped around your waist as his chin rested on the crown of your head. 

As you finished, you took his hand, taking him over to the bed. At least he didn’t need to change, all he had on was a sweatshirt and grey sweatpants, which made you weak to see him in something so casual when he was usually wearing luxury name brands. 

He removed his covering, exposing his torso filled with artwork. You took your hand, running your hand over his ‘Tickets To My Downfall’ tattoo across his collarbone. 

He looked at you, eyes filled with wonder as he leaned down, his lips meeting yours gently. Pre-turning, you were usually so compliant, completely under his spell. But now, he was completely at your mercy, bewitched and completely in love with who you becoming.

“You okay, princess?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer. 

It was now that you noticed you were zoning out, but you nodded, “Yeah, if just... don’t feel like it tonight. Just kinda tired, you know?” you finally said, “Can you just... hold me?” you asked. 

Colson nodded, his face covered with an expression of understanding, which made your heart swell. What did you do to deserve him?

He gave you his sweatshirt, and you quickly wrapped yourself in it, the sleeves going past your wrists and almost covering your hands. You shuffled into bed, Colson doing the same as he pulled you closer. 

You and him laid there, his eyes trained on you, your head on his chest. You loved the way his touch felt, especially when it was pure and caring like this. You could almost feel the vibrations of the love he had for you amiting from his body. It was captivating. 

“You know I love you, right?” he broke the silence, his hand beginning to play with your small one, a smile crossing your face. 

“Of course I do. You tell me all the time,” you sighed contently. 

“I was just making sure. Because you’re my everything.” he admitted.

If there was one thing that Colson was good at in this world, it was taking care of the people that meant the most to him. And he was good at it. He loved you with everything, and you loved him with everything. 

“You’re my everything too.” you squeezed him tighter, your body almost completely against his. 

Before this, you were never really sure if soulmates existed, and for the universe to prove you wrong, it was a long shot. But now that you were here, in his arms, there was no where you would rather be. 

And you were certain that if one person were to be your soulmate, it was the man holding you close as if he was going to lose you. 

And you were okay with that.