#vampire!hunter au

[dickarchivist]

Let Me Hear You Scream

For @anxiouspineapple99's Monster Clone Halloween Party 2023!!

Vampire!Hunter x fem/reader

Contents and Warnings: Minors DNI 🔞, desperation, unprotected PiV sex, back alley sex, maybe voyeurism(?), biting, overstim, mentions of blood, rough sex, clothes ripping, consent being the sexiest thing of all

Author's Notes: Hunter Wives (gn) I hope this gets you were you're going~

The Song inspiration for this fic is called [Scream by SAINT PHNX]. Click it for a good time 👀

The music in the club is incredibly loud, but it feels like everything else is drown out by silence when you catch his eyes on you from across the floor. Half his body is covered in dark tattoos, they're hard to make out in the pulsing lights, but you swear they're bones. But the skeletal markings aren't what caught your attention, it's his eyes. A glowing red, peering directly into your very being, glowing in the multicolored pulses of the room. He's sitting back in one of the lounge seats with his shirt half undone and his arms sprawled over the headrest, as if inviting you in... for a second, you think that's exactly what he's doing.

When you blink, he's gone, and the music returns at full blast. You feel a little dizzy, and decide to go outback to get some fresh air, try to get your head on straight before rejoining your friends on the dance floor. A few offer to join you, but you wave them off, telling them you'll be right back.

He's in the back alley when you get outside, as if he were waiting for you. You chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest and shifting your weight to one side, "You following me pretty boy?"

"Yes, actually," he smirks back at you, and you catch a glimpse of fangs hiding under his lips. He shifts his weight to mimic your stance, and nods his head toward you, "Your scent is more intoxicating than any of the alcohol they're serving," He's on you in a second, moving so fast you couldn't understand it.

His smile presses into your neck as he takes a deep breath, "Kriff your blood smells so sweet," you feel his tongue on your skin, and your knees knock together with a soft moan. His hands are on your hips, holding you in place, but you can pull away, you know you can. He takes another breath of your scent, "Would you mind inviting me in?"

You lean back in his grip, enough to see his face properly. His eyes are a vibrant red, and they're trained on your pulse. The dark tattoos across his face make him look near demonic, and maybe he is, the way he looks at you. You're a meal to him. Your heart is beating, legs weakening, and his grip holds you up, you could run but there's nowhere to go... nowhere you'd want to go either. "What are you going to do?"

His knee presses between your legs and you moan again, hands on his chest for support. You look into his eyes again, and he flashed his fangs, "Only what you let me do, can't act without your say so," he moves his leg against you, pulling another soft gasp from your lips, "Wouldn't mind hearing you scream for me."

You're not sure if it's the alcohol in your system already, or the danger of the situation, but you find yourself grinding your hips against him. "What's your name?" Your voice is breathy, starting to feel damp between your legs.

"Call me Hunter," his mouth is on your neck again, kissing softly, dragging his tongue over your pulse again.

"Are you going to kill me?"

There's humor in his voice, feeling fangs drag across your soft skin sends shivers through you, and you clench your thighs around the leg between them, "You're safe from me, Mesh'la."

You believe him, against all odds, you know he's not going to kill you. You nod lull your head to the side a little, already dazed from the spreading warmth between your legs, but still he waits for your words. Hunter buries his face into the crook of your neck, ghosting over your pulse again, whispering, "Invite me in."

"Make me scream, Hunter..."

One of his hands pushes up the skirt of your little dress and palms you, feeling your wet folds through the cloth of your panties. With a sharp tug the fabric snaps and you let out an excited gasp. Hunter kisses your neck and his fingers rub your clit. You can feel his length hardening against your thigh, you're about to reach for it when his fangs sink into your neck.

You thought it would hurt, but the sheer euphoria that washes over you makes you moan loudly as your body trembles, "S-stars, kriff, oh... H-Hunter!"

You feel his fangs leave your skin, followed by suckling from him. His deft fingers slip into your walls without resistance, and you grind against him as his digits curl and rub sweet circles against the most sensitive spots inside you. "Harder... kriff, Hunter..."

His mouth leaves your neck for a moment and you feel a warm trickle down your chest. "Tell me to fuck you."

Hunter's fingers leave your walls and you whine in protest, pulling his face to yours and kissing him hard. You taste your blood on his tongue, and run your own over his fangs before pulling away, "Fuck me, use me, give it to me, Pretty boy," you drag your blunt teeth over his bottom lip with a tug, "Make me scream for you."

In a blink Hunter has you against the wall of the club, your legs around his waist as he holds you up. He tears the front of your dress and tugs your breastband down, licking the blood from your chest as he goes back to suckling at the wound he'd made. You're about to speak again when you feel the head of his length gliding through your folds and bump your clit. More gasps, but no Scream yet. As he pushed into your walls, stretching you open for him, you tremble and wrap your arms around his shoulders, breathing the single word, "Harder."

He bucks into you, harder, faster than you'd thought, a surprised, "Ah!" Falling from your lips followed quickly by a desperate, "Yes!"

His length fills you completely, making your eyes cross in pleasure as he pounds into you with each hard thrust of his hips. Your arousal is dripping down your thighs as he bites a fresh wound into the other side of your neck, sucking blood from you as it flows. The euphoric feeling washes over you again, and you cum hard on his length as he draws a scream of pure ecstasy comes from you.

You're limp in Hunter's arms for a second as he feeds, dizzy from everything, the blood, the intense orgasm, but Hunter isn't done with you yet. You gave him permission, you invited him in.

Hunter's mouth pulls off of your neck, licking at the wounds on each side, staying deep in your walls with slow thrusts as you come down from the first high. He grins at you, blood on his teeth, "Kriff you taste better than I thought," his hips snap up into you and you give a sharp cry, "You feel better too, mmm. Still with me, Mesh'la?"

You clench around his length, closing your eyes and shivering, "still here..."

"Good girl." Hunter presses his fingers to your clit as he continues his brutal pace, hard sharp thrusts into you. With the added stimulation to your clit, and your walls already over sensitive, the feeling of Hunter's stiff length thrusting in and out of you so quickly has you near drooling with pleasure.

You Scream for him again, louder than the first time, as you feel a second climax rip through your body. He spends himself in your walls with a primal grunt, and you feel both his spend and yours down your legs. Hunter kisses your neck where he bit you, licking off any remaining blood from your chest, before he pulls out of you with a satisfied sound.

Your legs feel boneless, you nearly fall but he holds you steady, "Still with me?"

"Mmm..." you look up at him, eyes hazy, but completely unafraid, "still here..."

"Can I take you home?"

"You can take me anywhere..."

When you wake up the next day you're completely naked in your bed. You think for a second you'd had the most amazing dream, until you see your torn dress on the floor, and a note on the bed beside you.

"I know your scent, I'll come find you again, Pretty Girl."

You chuckle, throat sore from the screams, and you lick your lips before raking your teeth over your bottom lip, "You better, Pretty Boy."

[nekophy]

RadioApple Week Day 3: Deal / Blood

It's VVinterArt52 's Hunter x Vampire AU! The tension and drama radiating from these two is just golden HAHAHA 👀💘

[nohomie]

Character intro:

Wally

Extra lore dump below

So yeah, Vampires are special because theyre actually manmade.

Vampires where created centuries ago, long before Human and Mythic agreed to live together peacefully. There were still fights between the two and Humanity was on the losing end. It was due to this that led to some royal family trying to play god and turn themselves into a mythic only for it to cause disaster and destruction.

Fun fact, the term vampire stems from their place of origin, Vamais. While not all vampires come from there, there are few that still exist who once lived in Vamais. You can easily tell if a vampire was once a Vami from their unique facial features (no visible nose and facial hair, not even eyebrows) and striking blue hair.

[gilly-moon]

I saw your vampire hunter AU, and my main question is HOW THE FUCK DOES ONE ACCIDENTALLY DRINK VAMPIRE BLOOD

Lmao I’ve gotten this question a couple times and I find it so funny cause like….his parents have got to be the WORST at organizing their shit. They trusted Danny to be in charge of the Ectro Filtrator, so who’s to say they wouldn’t put some vampire blood in a silver packet? The kind that, to a tired college kid like Danny, looks a little too much like a Capri Sun?

[duckysprouts]

au where killing dracula doesn’t eradicate all vampires and jonathan keeps his promise to mina of being a vampire too so that she doesn’t have to be alone.

100 years later they are hunting down the rest of the vampires and being old even tho they look like they should be at the club

[ruporas]

feast (ID in alt)

[halvedslab]

oh, what a sin

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒, 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄.

💞 — in which vil invites a vampire hunter to live in your castle as a guard. this hunter seems to enjoy pressing your buttons quite a bit.

💞 — vampire!vil schoenheit x vampire!reader x vampire hunter!rook hunt (implied poly)

💞 — warnings: SUGGESTIVE!! nothing crazy, but it is suggestive, hopefully in the gothic romantic sort of way. obvi, blood, mentions of gore. rook says "bon appetit" at some point. vil and reader are "married" but in the eternal partners thanks to immortality sort of way

💞 — 2.2k words. HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY @v-anrouge!!! when i was wondering what i should write, i remembered you were the one who gave me the thought of vampire hunter!rook which has completely haunted me since. i wish you a million more happy days <33 think imma do a whole au tagged as "𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄." bc wow i miss vampire stories

Vil could not have been serious about this.

You looked at him in disbelief as he sat at the luxurious table. He ignored your look of disbelief and continued to sip from his wine glass, the rid liquid sloshing to and fro. Any idiot would assume it was just wine or fruit cordial, but no, this was a bit too thick to be either. Your eyes then darted to the smiling blonde bowing at the both of you. That bastard hunter that you and your kind were constantly trying to get away from. He was grinning without a care as if he was not in the presence of one of the most feared vampires in all of the Twisted Wonderland. 

“You don’t look too pleased to see me, mon vampire,” he said, tilting his head to the side, smile ever present.

It took everything in you not to scrunch your nose, “What vampire would be pleased at the sight of a hunter?�� you retorted, before looking back at Vil. You assumed he was bluffing when he told you he would employ a vampire hunter to keep watch over the castle. You knew why he did it—all that power came with enemies and artifacts that all manner of magical creatures wanted to steal for themselves. But come on, you hoped he would settle for a protective spell.

Vil finally sighed, “He won’t harm you, or me if he knows what’s best for him.”

“Oh, Roi du Poison, no need for worries. I could never dream of tarnishing such beauty,” he replied, standing straight again. Despite that smile of his, there was something sinister beneath it all. He was hiding something, that much was clear.

“Vil, darling, you can’t be serious—”

All the vampire did was stand and make his way over to you, standing behind your seat and placing one of his hands onto your shoulders, and then he used the other to cup your chin so that you were glancing over at him, “Stress ages the skin. Relax your brows,” he told you. Your immortality would keep you from aging just fine, yet he still insisted that you follow these human regiments with him.

After a moment, you sighed, letting your shoulders drop before sending a half-hearted glare at the hunter, “Fine,” 

“Good,” Vil moved away from you and to the blonde hunter, his hand quickly grasping his jaw, “And you,”

“Yes?” Rook asked, practically beaming over the fact that the poisonous vampire himself was touching him. He could barely keep himself from reaching out and embracing the vampire.

Before this, he had just been admiring you and your spouse. All of this was like something from one of his dreams. Here he was, in that gothic castle which he had only seen in paintings, with the famed vampires hiding in it. Rook could not wait till he was free to explore the place and uncover the magical secrets that were hidden there. Perhaps he would even get the chance to collect skeletons from the closets.

Your glares were exhilarating and Vil’s touch was just… arousing. This was the type of opportunity he would kill for. He probably did kill for it, no one could know when it came to him.

Vil’s lavender eyes traced over the hunter’s face, before narrowing in on his eyes, “You will be on your best behavior, yes?”

Rook nodded, placing a hand on his chest, “Of course, my queen.”

“Darling, quit your pouting already,” Vil said, glancing at you through the mirror as you tended to his hair. He never let anyone tend to his beauty process, but you. Who would not trust their eternal lover? He began to rub a serum into his skin, “I know you’re not happy, but you’re a vampire, not a toddler.”

You nearly tugged his hair at that, “You know how I feel about vampire hunters,” you told him, “And him? Of all the hunters to bring into our home, you have to bring the one with the most kills under his belt—if he tries anything, I’ll… I—”

“We’ll both feed off of him. Don’t worry,” he said, cutting you off as he turned around to face you. One of his hands reached for the brush and he set it at the vanity behind him while gazing up at you. His hands cupped your hips and forced you closer, “You worry too much. If he messes up, he’ll make for a great meal.”

His hands trailed up and down—hips, to thighs, hips, to waist—he had done this thousands of times before, “You’ve heard of his skill, his strength. A man with such endurance must have plenty of blood… all that running and fighting he does has to show in the health of his arteries. I’ll even let you use those fancy chalices you like,”

Oh, Sevens. He was so attractive when he went into his informative tangents.

A blush covered your cheeks and your hands reached to grab onto his shoulders so that you could balance yourself. Centuries later he still managed to make you blush like a rose. He claimed you were his spouse, but sometimes you felt more like a devout worshipper. His body was the shrine you bowed to, your love was the offerings you held out to him.

“I just ask that you play nice,” he said, his hand drifting from your hip, up to your cheek. A smirk came to his lips as he tugged your face towards him. He smirked when your eyes trailed over to his mouth, “You can do that, right?” 

All you could do was nod in response.

“Good,” And finally, he gave in and kissed you, teasingly dragging his fangs along your bottom lip. Vil knew how much you loved when he did that, he could feel it in the little shift you did as he held you close. He pulled away after a moment, just to let his hands dip down to the back of your legs and pull you into his lap, “Now, let me take care of you.”

Living in the castle with Rook was strange, but not completely horrible. He had so much to satisfy his curiosity, so most days you did not see him unless you were in places that he was monitoring. You caught him a few times in the secret tunnels beneath the castle, and the various hiding places that no one knew about.

He tried to get into your good graces with his… strange shows of affection. Last night, when he was walking you home from the opera, he told you how much he wished you would let your rage control so that you would sink your teeth into his pale freckled skin.

Strange, and yet your mind drifted back to the thought of it. Letting go of your control and pouncing onto the hunter, tearing the collar of his shirt, piercing that pretty skin of his. You forced the thoughts out of your mind when you began to imagine what his gasps and whimpers may have sounded like.

Vil seemed to be much more quick to let up when it came to Rook. He did not think the green-eyed hunter was a threat and just let him share his amorous and romantic poetry. At the dinner table, he would laud you and your Queen, comparing himself to the knights of yore, bound to protect and never to touch—and Vil did not interrupt him once. He looked pleased, instead, amused even.

Even more absurd was when Vil began letting Rook help him out with his clothes or his makeup. That had truly caught you off-guard, but you still did not seem to let up on your suspicions. He was just so unsettling sometimes, despite his sweet moments. You worried he would turn around and set a trap for you, or worse, for Vil. 

Vil could take care of himself, but you loved him too much to not worry.

“Ah, mon vampire!” 

You turned around when the hunter suddenly called out for you. Of course, he just happened to be in the gardens at the same time as you, “Rook,” you muttered, “Do you never sleep?”

He quickly took his spot at your side, his hand drifting to hover around the small of your back, “Now why would I tell a predator like you when I am most vulnerable?” he asked, this thumb sliding over your spine a bit. His green eyes looked a little more threatening for a moment, “That would make me a poor hunter, non?”

That look in his eyes made you shiver.

“I suppose you are right about that.” 

You were sure you could take him on in a fight, but you also wished Vil was out here too. Rook always seemed a little more behaved in the presence of Vil, since he was more of a threat than you were—or perhaps Rook just enjoyed toying with you more. When the two of you were alone, Rook seemed more like the bloodthirsty creature, except he thirsted for your ire. He was just begging to be your meal with the way he acted.

His touch grew firm, “Looking for an escape?” he asked, raising a brow, smiling at you. He looked quite pleased with himself.

“No,” you retorted, a little blush coloring your cheeks, “That’s what you should be doing.”

Rook laughed at that and his hand moved off your back and to your hand instead. Gently, he tugged you with him deeper into the gardens, “I would never want to escape from you. No matter how vicious you became,” he told you, affectionately.

You scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a minute,”

“You don’t?”

“Of course not. You’d run with your tail between your legs just as the other mortals do.”

He tugged you a bit harder once he came to a stop, forcing you to fall against him. The blonde nearly shivered as your hands met his chest to steady yourself, “Mon vampire,” he whispered, “You and I both know I would never run from those gorgeous fangs of yours,” he said as his free hand cupped your jaw.

The foolish hunter was guiding your face toward his pale neck. A soft growl came from the back of your throat, “Stupid hunter,” you muttered. That familiar bloodlust began to seep from your every pore.

“Go on,” he cooed, “bon appétit.”

You decided to give in—his blood just smelled too good. You brushed his blonde hair behind his ear before slipping a hand behind his neck to force him closer to you, causing him to place his hands on either side of your head, against one of the pillars in the gardens.

Fangs glittered beneath the night sky like swords on the battlefield, his neck was your enemy. All you wanted to do was suck him dry, and end that dull beating you could hear where his blood was rushing. Vil had told you athletic people carried more blood. He shivered as your tongue swiped against his neck.

“Ah—wetting my neck to make it easier? You are just so—”

Before he could finish with his teasing, you quickly and violently sunk your fangs into his neck, humming in satisfaction as his blood hit your tongue. His body tensed up for a moment and then he relaxed, leaning his body against you, pinning you to the pillar. He gasped a bit at your harsh sucking, but never once did his protest.

Instead, his fingers tenderly carded through your hair, “Mmm… Tu es merveilleux.”

You could not even bring yourself to pull away and reply to his compliments, instead opting to dig your fangs in even deeper. The blood began to drip down your chin, Vil would scold you for that, but you did not care. His blood was delicious.

“What have I told you about getting blood on your clothes when you’re feeding?”

Speak of the devil—erm, vampire.

Quickly, you pulled away from Rook’s neck and you were just about to wipe your face on your sleeve, until you felt Vil’s sharp glare and Rook’s hand grasp your arm in time. 

The hunter gave you a teasing smile, before turning his attention to Vil.

There was a frown on Vil’s face, “I can’t believe you managed to make such a mess in the five minutes that I have left you alone.”

“Merci, I do my best.”

“It wasn’t a compliment. Look what you have done to mein schätzelein,” he scolded, as he took out a handkerchief to wipe up your mouth for you. His attention was now on gently wiping away the blood that dripped down to your chin and onto your chest. He patted it down, careful not to rub too hard. A brief look of hunger flashed in his eyes as he wiped the blood. He nearly bent down to lick it off of you instead. “Such a mess... and I thought we promised we’d feed on him together? Greed is not a pretty look for you.”

The flush on your cheeks brightened, much to both of their amusement.

“Don’t scold them, Roi du Poison. It was my fault. I was teasing too much,” Rook interrupted before you could speak. One of his hands trailed down your back, while the other slipped around Vil’s waist, “But since you’re here now, you can have a taste as well.”

Vil rolled his eyes, “I am much better at controlling myself,”

That was a lie. His eyes kept drifting between the pierce marks on Rook’s neck and the little bit of blood stuck on the corner of your lips.

©rooksamoris 2024. do not steal or translate my work!

support me on ko-fi!

[yukinnn]

‘The sun is rising, and you got nowhere to hide’

[successionsuccs]

here's the second one of my pieces I did for the @sunnyhalloweenzine 🩸🧛‍♂️

[hopesangelsprite]

The Summoning

Pairing: Vampire!Illumi x Reader

Summary: Being immortal can grow very old, very quickly and Illumi's found that out the hard way. The only reasonable solution would be to find a suitable playmate, right?

Warnings: mentions of blood/death/murder, biting, size/strength difference, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, dacryphilia, breeding kink, degradation, female ejaculation, manipulation (vampire compulsion)

MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI

Viewer discretion is advised.

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God?

Or are you really here to cast me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

Illumi watched with half-lidded eyes as his servants removed a corpse from his feet, nothing left of the younger male but an empty, soulless husk. How many had he gone through now? 30? 300? Whatever the death toll was, it didn't matter. Illumi no longer cared for numbers, the sheer quantity of his years on earth drawing him to the conclusion that they were overrated.

"Bring me the next one.", he ordered while leaning further into the large throne chair he'd taken residence in, "If this one doesn't satisfy me, I'll be draining one of you in their place.". Illumi let threat roll off his blood-stained lips easily, keen on fulfilling it should he be presented another weakling.

There was a brief silence before the doors to his quarters opened, your figure edging closer uncertainly. The closer you got, the better he was able to analyze you. Unlike his previous victims, there were no tears in your eyes or trembling in your limbs. Though you eyed him warily, he sensed you were more curious than afraid. You were quite attractive, as well; with smooth curves just barely concealed by what was left of a skirt and halter top. As you finally got within arm's reach of him, you sank to your knees with fluttering lashes.

Illumi's cock twitched at the sight, the position giving him a perfect view of your tits and exposed thighs. "Do you know why you're here, pretty thing?", he inquired whilst making a mental note of just how fragile you were in comparison to him. To any mortal man, you'd be considered healthy, maybe even too much so for those on the weaker end of the male spectrum. To Illumi, however, you were nothing but a doll, a plaything he could bend and contort to his undead heart's content.

"I was running from my old life... I was promised shelter.", you answered after a moment and Illumi chuckled. He leaned forward, crimson tongue flicking over glinting fangs, and grasped your face with a large, ring-laden hand. "There's no safety for you here, little doll, only death or imprisonment.", he drawled out, keen eyes catching the way your thighs pressed together at his touch. With one hand, you removed his hand from your face, head turning to place a kiss on his palm. The other you placed on his dark denim-clad thigh, fingers tracing patterns into the coarse material. "Then I should aim to please, no?", you inquired as your hand crept closer to his belt.

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

A smirk graced Illumi's lips at your insinuation, lust deepening within him as you carefully undid his belt's clasp. So, he leaned back, dark eyes watching you like a predator behind inky tresses. He pushed his hips forward to allow you better access to him, reveling in the tiny gasp you let out upon freeing his cock. His skin was milky, fading into a pretty pink closer to his weeping tip; a few veins adorned his shaft, a little longer than he was thick. Your mouth watered at the sight, core moistening as you took him into your hands.

Illumi groaned at the softness of your skin against his, catching his bottom lip between a fang as you gave him a few experimental strokes. You shuffled closer, knees no doubt bruising from the floor's harsh surface. You placed your chin on his knees, inquiring eyes boring into his as you swiped a thumb over his leaky slit; you were seeking permission, how wonderfully submissive of you. "Go on then, have a taste.", he permitted with a lazy nod.

His breath caught in his throat as your warm, plush lips enveloped his cockhead, your tongue following shortly afterward. You kissed him wetly, the taste of precum unfamiliar yet welcomed. You took him into your mouth once more, this time sucking him as far back into your throat as you could. A deep, satisfied hum rumbled through Illumi's chest as he watched you begin to come up for air, a blood-stained hand tangling itself into your hair to stop your rising and push you down further. "Now, now. Don't underestimate yourself, darling, you can take a little bit more.", he mewled over the sound of your gagging, "Can't you?".

Illumi finally let you up after a few moments, cooing at the sight of tear-streaked mascara kissing your cheeks. Still, your eyes only held a strange look of awe and adoration; one that Illumi found himself mirroring as you continued to suck him off ever so sweetly. Illumi hissed as he pulled you off his cock, leaning down to catch your lips with his. He deepened the kiss as he guided you from the floor onto his lap, the taste of his arousal on your tongue only making him harder.

As Illumi broke the kiss, lips dipping to nip at your neck while his hands slipped underneath your skirt, a low curse escaped him as his fingers met your bare, soaked core. He found his sanity waning. "Nothing underneath?", he hummed as he brought your face close to his, "What a pretty little slut you are.". He locked eyes with you, eye contact unwavering as he pushed two long fingers past your entrance and began searching for that soft, spongy spot he knew would have you singing praises.

You whimpered upon the intrusion, thighs quaking as he began scissoring you open. Illumi took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, enjoying your breathy moans and the noises coming from your sopping cunt. "Feels good, doesn't it.", he chuckled as your hips began rutting against his palm, "I think we both know what'll feel much better, though.".

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

Before you could reach your high, Illumi pulled his fingers from your cunt. Without a second of hesitation, he shoved those same fingers into your throat as he pulled you down onto his cock, allowing very little protest as your pelvises met abruptly. More tears welled behind your lash line as you adjusted to the stretch of him overfilling your pussy, tip nuzzled snuggly against your cervix and g-spot. "Filthy fucking whore.", he spat as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and began manhandling you up the expanse of his shaft, "My filthy fucking whore.".

You cried out in pleasure as he pulled you back down, setting a quick and unforgiving rhythm. Illumi watched your tits bounce beneath the fabric of your top ruefully as he continued to use you like a doll. He growled as he tugged at its neckline, hips bucking up into you as it freed your breasts with a loud rip. You shivered as Illumi leaned forward to take one of your nipples between his teeth, gently tugging at it before swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. He continued his ministrations, switching between left and right, with a single hand keeping a bruising grip on your hip while the other busied itself by rolling your clit between its thumb and index finger.

Illumi felt your soft walls flutter around him and he groaned into your skin, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. He released your tit with a loud pop, hips pistoning his cock into you faster as he licked a stripe up your chest and neck. It didn't take him long to find your pulse, suckling over the skin while imagining just how sweet you'd taste. Soon, his cock was throbbing in perfect time with your moans, his high growing closer and closer the more you called out his name and begged him to slow down. Instead, he removed himself from your neck, pulling your forehead against his to lock eyes with you.

The air between and around you quickly grew tense, a steady thrum of energy bringing you closer to your high as Illumi's dark eyes melted into a bloody, crimson shade. "Cum for me.", he moaned into your mouth, head dipping to pierce your skin with his fangs. Without warning, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, curses and pleas tumbling from your lips as the stinging pain of being bitten melded into overwhelming pleasure. Your mind grew numb as you came, your arousal spraying over Illumi's lap as he drank you in. And you let him, body trembling and unable to come down from the violent high he'd brought upon you.

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

A taste of the divine

Illumi released your neck after a long moment, tongue lapping up a few stray beads of blood as he pulled your hips flush against his and filled you with his seed. Another tremor crept down your spine at the sudden hot, sticky substance filling your womb, Illumi whispering sweet nothings and pretty vows into your ear to coax you out of the trance he'd locked you in. You blinked once, then twice, to clear the white spots and tears from your vision.

"There you are, little one.~", he purred before placing a kiss on the now bruising bite mark he'd given you, "Was afraid I lost you for a second.". All you could do was whimper, slumping forward to rest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Your scent faintly mingled with sex and iron filled his nostrils, tempting him to finish draining and breeding you. He let you rest, though, leaning back into the chair with his cock still plugging you full as he, too, drifted into sleep for the first time in centuries.

Besides, the venom and cum in your system would need time to take effectively.

[rayveneyed]

cw: sexually explicit content / blood / relatively light sadomasochism / age + experience gap (reader is older + more experienced) / sub!choso / vampires 🧛‍♀️ / sex and violence as two sides of the same coin /

choso kamo is 160 years old when he meets you.

in those years of walking the earth, undead, he believes he’s embraced his vampirism as much as he possibly can. the broiling self-hatred he had once found solace in has reduced to a simmer, strongest in those moments of blood and guts and weakening heartbeats; and although he often avoids crowds, and companionship, and light, he no longer believes himself to be a slave of his own nature.

to be true — in the grand scheme of immortality, of vampirism — he isn’t anywhere close to the level of control he’d wish to have. often, when indulging yuji’s desire to enjoy the world as he did before his death — boardwalks and arcades and cotton candy — he feels his canines aching in his gums, stretching until they dimple against his bottom lip.

it’s not comfortable. it’s not confident. but even despite the growing aches, he’s no longer cowering in alleyways; no longer drinking from poor stray cats and garbage-chewing rats to momentarily satiate that ever-growing, gnawing hunger. he has some sense of control—

“oh, you baby-bats. so adorable.”

control which he now flounders to grab.

a sharp, inky black nail scrapes up the column of his neck — he can’t help but arch into it, head tilting back until his wide, pupil-blown eyes find the ceiling, with its intricate coving and obsidian chandeliers. the music from the main hall is nothing but a buzzing in the back of his head; thoughts of his friends’ whereabouts, an afterthought. your fingernail crowds the underneath of his jaw and stops at where his pulse point would have thrummed, would he have been alive.

you’re a demon. a devil. a she-beast. a succubus. any horrid, terrible name he could call you, he will — dressed in blacks and burgundies and gold older than him, your lips painted an ox-blood red and your eyes as sharp and dark as any polished knife. in your hands he is small. weak. mortal.

“satoru usually keeps his strays away, after last time,” you say, pouting now, though it’s a crude approximation of sadness — even now, your eyes glint with devilment. “so mean, when he knows i have a weak spot for bats like you.”

that wretched finger stretches up; pokes at his bottom lip, scrapes against the fangs that had — embarrassingly — extended from his gums at the simple weight of you on top of him.

“look at that,” you coo, and your grin is something unsettling, something that curdles in the pit of his stomach and heats between his legs. “excited, pup?”

his answering breath comes ragged, and it’s always more embarrassing than it was when he was human. his heart doesn’t work, his lungs do not work, and he has no need to breathe — in fact, he lost the reflex to do so around 92 years ago — but his brain is scrambled, it seems, wilted neurons confusing signals from almost two centuries ago. “i’m — ahem — i’m okay, duchess.”

“how sweet. you don’t have to call me by my title, you know. my name will do just fine.” at his silence, you push yourself up from where you’d been laying low against his chest — looking far too excited when you say: “unless, of course, you like it.”

his hands tremble at his side. he can’t remember the last time he’s indulged in — in debauchery. the last time someone’s made him feel like they’re holding his heart in their hands. over the past hundred-odd years, he’s avoided it like the plague, and for good reason — most vampires aren’t known for their commitment, let’s just say. and now you’re on top of him looking like every sin he’s tried to avoid, and he’s straining so hard in his pants he fears he’ll cum before you even hint at removing a single article of clothing.

you press yourself flush again, nosing at his neck. he knows, for the first time in his long life, what it feels like to be prey. is this what his victims had felt when he ripped into their throats, young and inexperienced and bloodthirsty? did their vulnerability sit like a stone in their throats?

a groan comes from you, suddenly, and your tongue darts out to lave against his skin. choso’s answering moan is more of a whimper, broken and weak in his mouth, but you don’t seem to notice — or care. he flexes his glutes in an effort to stop himself from rutting up against you — not only would it be embarrassing, desperate, but it would be rude. this is your house, after all. your soirée. your gilded halls and bedazzled walls. your silk sheets against his back. your satin skirt bunched around your waist.

“tell me, pup,” you say, and he fights the instinctual reflex to shiver at the brush of your lips against his skin, “have you ever fed from our own?”

“hm?” it’s a sound of confusion brought half on by his simple lack of knowledge, and half on by his slow-processing brain. only seconds after does he fully register your question, and the eyes he hadn’t realised he had screwed shut flew open. “no. i — i didn’t know that was possible.”

all at once, you’re sitting up again — swinging your leg over his hips until you’re standing. it wouldn’t be right to call it clambering — you are impossibly graceful, even passed the agility and elegance that comes with the gift of the undead. his hands reach for you before he can stop them, a sound like a question on his tongue, and you send him the sweetest, most tooth-rotting, stomach-turning smile. he thinks he likes your biting, cruel grins more, though you’re lovely regardless.

you begin to reach for the ties of your corset at your spine — just another thing that makes his mouth water. people didn’t wear these sorts of clothes anymore, not in the human world. but he remembers the skirts and corsets from paintings of noblewomen hundreds of years ago, and how he’d admire the curve of their waists, the swell of their chests—

“of course, satoru wouldn’t tell you. why would he?”

his eyes snap up from your chest, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. but you don’t seem to mind. the corset is removed painfully slowly, for no other reason than to torture him; then, the outer dress, with its carmine satin and intricate embroidery. you throw it to the floor carelessly, as if the most knowledgeable museum curators wouldn’t prostrate themselves at your feet for the simple chance to display it for millions to see — a while his eyes drink up the sight of more skin, the whisper of form beneath your underdress and bloomers, you near him once more.

metal to a magnet, a moth to flame, he pulls himself to the edge of the bed. you find a place between his legs and grasp his chin, and choso can’t look away from you.

“i can take you apart and put you back together,” you say — promise — voice like crushed velvet, quiet and creeping like a choking vine. your thumb smooths over his cheek and ends at its apple, where you press the sharp tip of your nail into his flesh. “i can show you the pleasures of your eternal life, and its pains, and everything in between. i can bring you to every edge, and draw you back from them just as quick — and it will be painful, and you’ll enjoy it so much you won’t be able to go another day without it.”

he’s lost the ability to speak. his unmoving heart is in his throat — or in your hands, or between your sharp teeth. you tilt your head and regard him with knowing, twinkling eyes.

“all you have to say, pup, is yes.”

oh, it’s out of him so quick he can hardly keep up — a word so breathy you’d swear you’d already had your way with him. but embarrassment is a thing of the past when your smile stretches, and you murmur marvellous. you release him from your grasp, much to his chagrin, but when you begin pulling down your bloomers his attention shifts.

he can smell you. smell you. the musky, salty scent of between your legs — a smell that has his mouth watering and his fingers cramping from how hard he fists the sheets. your bloomers are damp when you discard them, sticky with your arousal, and pride glows in choso’s chest. he didn’t do much, but it seemed enough — if he had only let himself lose control, hump up against you harder, perhaps it would’ve stained his clothes; seeped through your layers and onto his lap. he’d go home and hold it over his nose until the scent faded, and perhaps after.

“new as you are,” you say, climbing onto your bed once more and reclining back against the numerous pillows — huffing a mean-sounding laugh when he crawls after you. “i’ll do you the mercy of taking it easy, just this once. oh, don’t make that face — you look like a kicked puppy. i promise you’ll enjoy what i have in store for you.”

and you hike up your underdress, and spread your legs. choso’s mouth waters — the thick smattering of hair on your mons, your flower-like labia, shiny with your arousal. and your clit, peeking out from its hood, pink and shiny and begging to have his mouth on it. but as if this wasn’t enough — as if he wasn’t already scrabbling to get between your legs — you take one of those long, sharp nails, and drag it against your inner thigh. the skin splits. blood trickles down from the wound like a river of gold, flowing into the crease between your thighs and your pussy, and it smells ambrosial. if his fangs were aching before, they’re screaming, now. this isn’t human blood; this is richer, sweeter, creamier. delectable. hedonistic. you’ll make a glutton of him.

“after all,” you say, grinning wickedly, “i’m treating you to a most delectable meal.”

[avirxy]

school is killing me this is all I got

[todaaru]

vamp luis BECAUSE it's always vampire season in my world of colors and fun

also bonus serennedy

[gilly-moon]

Apparently I never posted this here??? Anyway, Danny keeps trying to kill Vlad in this AU but nothing works and eventually Vlad starts giving him ideas just to keep their fights interesting

[tvpsychics]

[pounding on the bus windows] please does anyone remember the young justice 80 page giant 1890s vampire hunters au does anyone remember please pl[i am taken away]