Winter’s Knight
vampire!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader
inspired by Leon’s romantic look 😌 and the song Dracula’s Wedding by OutKast 💜 also the poetry mentioned is from Emily Dickinson; there’s also one line plucked from Dracula
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, biting/marking, fated pair, strangers to lovers, blood, blood kink, scent kink, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), OC friend of reader named Lara just in case that throws anyone off, unprotected sex, creampie
title from Winter’s Knight album by Nox Arcana
Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!! 💜 😘
“It’s an opportunity of a lifetime,” you mimic in a high tone before rolling your eyes, “opportunity my ass.”
Your friend Lara convinced you to go on this holiday trip with her, all expenses paid, as she wanted the company. The boyfriend that was originally going to be accompanying her had been dumped the week prior. Cheaters never win had been Lara’s flippant reply when asked.
It felt like it happened overnight and before you knew it, Lara had whisked you away to three different countries one of which being the current visit in question. You think you’re in Romania or maybe Estonia; you’re a little mixed up as your plans had changed mid train ride.
Lara’s family had some connections in the area and so you were both staying in a rather posh old castle turned tourist destination.
A very lovely place except now you were completely turned around when all you wanted was to get a bottle of water from the concierge and go back to bed. Your footsteps have slowed considerably as you take in the magnificent gothic architecture and the beautiful paintings ranging from landscapes to some strange brooding man encapsulated in shadows; you’re never fully able to make out what he looks like, too much shadow blanking his features.
You find yourself at a dead end, ornate furniture filling the space with a singular painting taking up the entire wall. It literally takes your breath away. It must be the place you’re staying in, the front gate still looks the same from what you can tell; it’s this castle seated on a rocky cliff face overlooking the villa down below. Your hand reaches out to touch, but you hover over the gilded frame before dropping it back to your side.
“Lovely, no?”
A smooth, low voice has you spinning around, a thrill of fear humming in your chest.
A man stands to the side, a little further down the hall. He’s tall, slim waisted with broad shoulders that stick out to you, even being shrouded in the dim lighting like he is; his eyes shine like an animal’s before you blink and it’s gone.
That small niggling of fear in your brain is getting louder as he moves closer, making no sound in his sharp dress shoes.
He keeps his eyes locked on the painting as he stops next to you.
“Quite an ancient castle,” he murmurs, almost too low for you to hear.
When he finally turns to face you, you almost gasp. He’s beautiful, almost ethereal with his snowy white hair and fair complexion; both make the blue of his eyes almost glacial.
He smiles sardonically, “Lost?”
You squint your eyes at him, lips pursing in suspicion, “You could say that.”
He grins and his teeth glint sharply before he turns, holding his arm out for you.
“I can guide you back to your room, miss?”
You smile sarcastically as you step up alongside him, completely ignoring the proffered arm, “Miss is just fine, sir.”
His eyes flick from the end of the hallway to you and he hums in amusement, “Well miss, shall I lead the way?”
“Oh, please do,” you simper and this earns a low chuckle from the handsome stranger, making your heartbeat flutter at the sound.
He guides you back to the foyer and up the grand staircase, pointing out paintings or furniture that have some kind of significance to the castle. Pausing in front of an oil painting not far from your room, he falls into a sort of melancholy.
“This was one of the ladies of the castle,” he finally pulls back, turning without looking back at you, “I’m sure you can find the rest of your way, miss.”
You startle, not realizing he was just going to dip out now.
“Hey!”
He pauses, half turning so you can see the profile of his straight nose and sharp cheekbone.
“Thanks, mister?” You trail off, hand fluttering in the air as you gesture.
He fully turns to smile at you, “Mister is just fine, thanks.”
You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, missing the way he lights up at the sound, eyes cataloging you far more closely than before.
“Well, thanks Mister,” you shake your head, smile still stretched across your face, “maybe I’ll see you around then.”
“Maybe,” he murmurs, bowing to you at the waist, “goodnight, Miss.”
“Goodnight,” you tilt your head and wave your hand.
Laughing to yourself, you turn and head further down the hall and into your room. He watches you until the door clicks shut and he turns back to leave. Pausing in front of the painting once more, he brushes a thumb across the placard on the bottom.
“She feels like the one, hmm?” He murmurs to the half smiling woman, “now that she’s here, I don’t know if I can do it.”
A door snapping shut from further down the hall has him pulling away from the painting and slipping off into the night.
You run into the strange gentleman again in the castle gardens situated just to the side of the towering edifice. Since Lara’s pacing in her room trying to figure out what went wrong with your travel plans, you decided to go for a walk instead of sitting around doing nothing.
You’re looking at one of the dead withered trees off to the side, debating if sitting on the bench here is safe from any falling branches when that low smoky tone speaks behind you.
“There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, that oppresses, like the heft of cathedral tunes.”
You squash your urge to jump in place and spin around to face him. He’s no less devastatingly pretty in the weak winter sunlight.
“Good afternoon to you, too,” you smile, enjoying the weirdness he exudes, “and what a conversation starter, might I add.”
He meets your smile with his own little grin, “Somber poetry for a somber day.”
You giggle, “Guess so.”
He gestures and you sit on the bench as he takes a seat next to you.
“Here on vacation?” You kick at a loose rock with your booted foot.
“You could say I’m here for leisure,” he muses, blue eyes taking in every nuance of you.
You tilt your head to look at him, “Oh I could, huh?”
Laughing, you straighten up, hands fiddling with the clasp on your jacket, “Well, I’m also here for leisure. Even though it’s kind of an accident.”
He raises an eyebrow and you continue, “It was a mix up and we ended up here. A vacation, just not in the right place.”
“How fortunate am I,” he smirks and you feel heat blaze in your chest, eyes dropping to look down at your jacket.
You tug on the zipper, catching your finger in the teeth with a hiss. It snags a bit of skin as you jerk it free, blood beading on your fingertip.
His features are serious as he takes your hand in his, “You must see to it so it doesn’t become infected.”
You nod, touched at his concern, “I have some alcohol swabs and bandaids up in my room.”
He brings your hand closer and you get the wild idea he means to suck your finger into his mouth, but he only kisses the back of your hand as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, a light gray fabric that looks like it costs more than your entire wardrobe. You catch his initials, L.S.K., monogrammed in black on the edge.
“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling flushed in the cool afternoon air as you clasp the handkerchief to your finger.
“My pleasure. Shall I escort you back to your room, miss?”
Lips parting, you take in his pinched features as he stares at your hand before nodding again, “Yes, please.”
His eyes snap up and he smiles, relief spreading across his face, “Good, good.”
Once you’re both standing, he snags your elbow with his fingers and gently guides you along. Since he’s much closer than before and you’re not sniffling from the cold air, you catch a strong smell of cedar and cloves that nearly makes you swoon.
“Are you okay?” He stops, grip firming up on your bicep to tug you closer making the smell even stronger.
“‘m okay,” you murmur, eyes drooping as you slump against his chest, “just smell good.”
You feel him laugh and the low baritone makes your cunt throb so hard you whine into his jacket.
“Maybe moving from the cold into the warmth has made you dizzy,” he says kindly, “come, let me help you to your room.”
Completely unsure as to what’s happening to you, you let him lead you back to your room. Your legs don’t seem to want to move the way you want to and the more you breathe in whatever cologne he’s wearing, the more slick drips from your pussy into the gusset of your panties to the point you’re soaked between your thighs.
He murmurs low platitudes in your ear that just makes everything better worse, so by the time you make it back to your room and he eases you down into your bed, you’re asking him to stay.
“No. You’ll thank me later,” he soothes, pulling off your winter boots and tucking you under the covers.
“Please,” tears prick your waterline, emotions and hormones all over the place.
His lips thin and he runs a hand through his white hair, strands ruffled when he clasps your hands together, “Just close your eyes. I’ll stay here.”
Dropping to the floor, he kneels alongside your bed, keeping your hands together. Struggling to keep your eyes open, you just know he won’t be there when you wake up and some part of you hates that idea.
“Didn’t think it would affect you like this,” he murmurs as you drift off.
With a small shift, he moves forward and pulls the pricked finger into his mouth. His hot tongue lashing against the digit is the last thing your mind holds onto before it slips away like sand in the tide.
When you come to, it’s dark outside and Lara is shaking your shoulder.
“Finally,” she huffs, brows pinched, “thought I was gonna have to take you to a doctor or something. You good?”
You squint at her but can’t remember anything but the stranger you met helping you back inside from the cold. The rest is a cloudy blank in your mind.
“Yeah, just tired I guess,” you raise up, pushing the blankets away to swing your feet out of bed, “what’s up?”
As you shift, you notice a small square cloth and a bolt of memory, of sitting on the bench with that man, makes your eyes widen. You pick up the handkerchief and tuck it into your pocket.
She smiles weakly, “Kinda stuck here a few more days then we’ll just fly back home in time for Christmas.”
You frown, an uncomfortable sadness pinging in your chest, “Oh? That’s fine. I like it here, so it’s not like it’s a hardship.”
Lara laughs, “Maybe for you. I’m ready to be somewhere that has pizza delivery.”
You grin, “Fair enough,” you push her shoulder, “well, when do we plan on leaving?”
“Two days is what my travel agent says,” she looks down at her phone, “that was the nearest opening since it’s the busy season and plus a storm is coming in tonight.”
“Ahh,” you nod along, “plenty of time to sightsee then.”
She giggles at your teasing and stands up from the bed, “I just wanted to let you know. It’s kinda late but the kitchen’s still open if you wanna grab something. I’m honestly exhausted from being on the phone all day so I’m gonna crash.”
“Hang on!”
You throw on some shoes and meet her at the door, “I’ll walk you to your room and head down to grab some food. You sure you don’t want anything?”
“Nah,” she shakes her head, “I had something earlier since I thought you’d eaten. You sure you’re feeling okay, though?”
“Mmhmm,” you smile, pausing outside her door, “promise.”
She returns your smile, “Okay, goodnight then.”
“Night!”
The door snaps shut behind you as you walk away, heading to the staircase and down to the restaurant. You take your time, stopping to look at various paintings on the way down, even pausing in front of a suit of armor to peer into the empty helm.
“Expecting a skeleton?”
You jump backwards, nearly tripping as you stumble into the firm chest behind you.
Righting yourself, you feel hot all over in embarrassment as you meet your strange acquaintance for the second time today.
“U-uh, hi,” you feel jittery with nerves, like a new crush, “thank you for today by the way. I don’t know how I got into my room, but I’m guessing you helped?”
His brows raise in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by a warm smile that makes butterflies flutter in your chest, “Yes, you weren’t feeling well. Dizzy from the temperature change.”
You take a half step back, leaving more distance between you two.
“Well, thank you,” you clear your throat, “uh, I was going down for a late dinner, do you want to join me?”
A sly grin crosses his features making you nervous, “I’d be delighted although I’ve already.. eaten this evening.”
“O-oh okay,” you stumble over your words as you turn to walk down the stairs, “anything you’d recommend?”
A sharp bark of laughter escapes him as he walks alongside you, “No, nothing I’d recommend. Although I’ve heard their special today is excellent.”
Surprised at his outburst, your brows furrow as you smile in confusion, “If you say so.”
You lapse into a comfortable silence as you both make the walk to the dining room. There’s just something about him that draws you in like a moth to a flame. At first you just thought it was his strange mannerisms, but in the short span of time that you’ve spent together you just feel connected on some hidden level that you’ve only just discovered.
Dinner is a quiet affair; the strange man, who you still don’t know the name of, joins you for your meal. He makes small talk about the local area in which he’s well informed about, no surprise. After you’ve finished your meal, he offers to take you out for an after dinner stroll around the castle before bed.
Not wanting to leave his company just yet, you readily agree and let him lead you around the place. It’s as he’s guiding you down a long L shaped hallway filled with more paintings that a chill runs down your spine and he freezes in place, half turning to shield you from the person who seems to materialize in front of you two.
“Hello, Leon,” a silky voice purrs as a beautiful woman steps into view.
She’s beautiful and ethereal in a way that’s almost terrifying, much like the mysterious gentleman half blocking your view; Leon she called him.
“What a lovely surprise,” she steps closer, form appearing to ripple in the dappled moonlight streaming from the windows.
“Ada, how can I be of service?” His polite tone’s cold and to the point, even as he pushes you further behind him.
“Aww, don’t be like that,” she lilts, voice playful and coaxing, “I’ve already seen your pretty playmate. Is she a new friend?”
You blink and the dark haired woman is standing next to you, Leon twisting uncomfortably to turn around.
She twirls a strand of your hair with a manicured nail, “I won’t bite. Unless she asks,” she winks at you and your eyes widen in surprise.
“She’s new, yes. A visitor,” Leon’s hand reaches out to grasp your hip, tugging you into his side, “so don’t play games.”
“Games?” She laughs, eyes bright, “are you still sore that I stole Claire away?” she pouts at him, “she wasn’t your one, so why are you still upset?”
You watch all of this with rapt attention and so much confusion.
He scowls at her, eyes darkening as he straightens his stance, “It doesn’t matter if she was the right one or not, you stole her away from me.”
She laughs outright at that, side stepping away from you and closer to him, “Can’t steal someone if they want to be taken, right, Leon?”
He deflates a little, gaze flitting to you and back to her, “What do you want now?”
“To bother you,” she smiles over at you and you notice her incisors are longer than normal, “since I’m just passing through, thought I would say hello to an old friend.”
They stare at each other for a beat longer than what’s comfortable before she sighs melodramatically.
“As much as I would love to stay, and believe me I want to so very badly,” she blows a kiss at Leon as she walks backwards to the far end of the gallery, “I do have unfinished business nearby that I must take care of. Ciao!”
It’s so quiet after she leaves that the ringing in your ears sounds abnormally loud.
Leon clears his throat and gives you an apologetic smile, “I’m very sorry about all of that.”
You wave your hands, “No worries. It’s not really my business, y’know.”
He winces at that and you scrunch your nose, internally cringing at yourself. It’s a somber feeling as he quietly leads you back to your room.
Pausing at the threshold, you reach out and snag the sleeve of his shirt.
“Hey,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to the fabric you’ve pinched between your fingers, “you wanna meet up tomorrow?”
He frowns although you don’t see it and slowly tugs his arm loose, “I don’t know.”
Whatever feeling that has been building in your chest feels like a punctured balloon at his flippant tone.
“Oh,” you drop his shirt like it burns, willing the tears away at least until you can shut the door, “I-I didn’t mean to— nevermind. Kinda silly of me. Hopefully I’ll see you before we leave.”
His fingers circle around your wrist tightly, holding you in place, “You’re leaving?”
You level him with a flat stare, “Of course. We’re only here for a couple more days. So if you’ll excuse—“
He presses forward, pushing you through the doorway to follow after, letting the door swing shut behind you both.
“Let go of me,” you twist your arm but Leon doesn’t budge.
A concentrated look arrests his features, blue eyes skimming down your body and back up to your face.
“Leon,” you bite out sharply, making him draw up short, “that’s your name, right?”
“Yes,” his eyes look wild as he lets go of your wrist to grasp both of your hands with his own, “yes, my name is Leon. Leon Kennedy. I’m sorry, this isn’t quite how I wanted things to go.”
You finally pull your arm away, “I’d like it if you left. I’m really confused and you’re acting strange.”
He looks at you so sadly it makes your chest hurt, “Can I show you something? I’ll leave you alone after that if that's what you’d like.”
Pursing your lips, you squint at him until you finally nod, “Alright.”
His shoulders sag and he walks back over to the door. Holding it open, he waits until you cross the threshold before stepping back in front of you. You make the short walk to the painting down the hall from your door when Leon pauses.
You look at the painting then to his serious face with raised brows.
“You’re showing me this again?” Confusion colors your tone, “am I missing something?”
“Have you read the name underneath?”
Shaking your head no, you step forward to read the small gold plate underneath.
“Claire Kennedy née Redfield,” you murmur to yourself.
Claire? That mysterious woman mentioned her name earlier. The one Leon said she stole away. The correlation is there but you feel like you’re missing a huge part of the puzzle to actually end up at the correct explanation.
You turn to Leon, “So is this the Claire you were talking about?”
He nods, eyes heavy and sad as he flits his gaze between you and the painting, “Yes. It was a political marriage. We were friends before everything happened.”
“Ookay,” you frown again, “so she ran off with her girlfriend?”
He flinches at that, “My other wife.”
You feel floored, “Wait, what?!”
Rubbing your forehead, you’re getting a pain behind your left eye from trying to parse it all together.
“So, your new wife ran off with your then current wife? Am I getting that right? How long ago was this, Leon?”
He gestures a little wildly at the plaque, “You didn’t see the year?”
Squinting, you lean forward and can make out circa 1849.
“Fuck off,” you blurt out, leaning back and taking a half step away, “what kinda joke is this?”
“I wait my whole life to bite the right one,” he mutters to himself, hand raking through his parted hair, “that’s not to say I didn’t mess up a couple of times before.”
You take another step back, away from Leon, “What do you mean?”
His eyes snap over to you and you freeze in place. Everything about him seems to be amplified to ten now, he’s exuding an energy that makes the hair on your arms stand up.
“You’re the one,” he steps up until he’s in your personal space, “Ada and Claire were accidents. I didn’t realize that there’s only one compatible partner for me.”
“Compatible partner?” voice pitching high, “you sound crazy right now.”
His brows lower, “You feel it too, little miss. It’s why you passed out earlier. Blood calls to blood.”
You’re hit with a wall of need so crippling your legs give out making you come down hard on your knees.
“I’ve been shielding you,” he murmurs, kneeling in front of you, hands reaching out to brush across your jaw and neck, “it’s a lot to take in, I know.”
Gasping in deep breaths, you’re overwhelmed with the scent of cedar and cloves from earlier. You don’t know how you forgot that smell but now it’s all you can concentrate on; your head goes fuzzy as arousal sweeps through your body.
“What is this?” you slur, eyes hazy as you slump forward into Leon’s shoulder, “what did you do t’me?”
“Nothing,” he soothes, petting down your back, “it’s just the effect of the compatibility. I can’t explain it; I just instinctively know it’s right.”
Reaching out, your hands weakly clasp at his shirt, “I don’t understand.”
“It’s okay,” he coos, “let me take you to my room.”
Not able to argue against him, he easily lifts you into a bridal carry. He uses one hand to block your eyes and you feel cold wind before he removes his palm and you see you’re in a room three times the size of your own. Leon eases you down onto an absurdly luxurious bed, sheer drapes lost to the shadows of the ceiling.
Once he steps away, leaving a sizable gap between you both, the dizziness subsides and your thoughts aren’t as fleeting.
“What the fuck?” you whisper, hands shakily brushing wisps of your hair back from your face, “what the ever loving fuck? Am I losing my mind?”
Your eyes quickly dart around, taking in the opulate furnishings and huge windows overlooking the cliff side, showcasing you now must be on the upper level of the castle. Your gaze lands on a time worn painting off to the side of Leon and his first wife, the dark haired beauty he called Ada. Next to it is another portrait of his second wife, Claire, yet another beautiful woman with red hair.
Leon’s hands ball into fists at his sides as he takes in a deep breath, “It’s not as bad as it seems.”
“Leon, what’s going on?” Your voice breaks, mind struggling to keep up with what’s happening to you.
“My first wife,” he points to the older portrait, “we were human at the time.”
“At the time?” You squeak out.
He hums, eyes flashing in the low light, “Yes. Then the change occurred to me after getting lost on a hunting trip. When I returned, I offered it to her but she refused,” he tilts his head up and shields his eyes with a hand, “and I made her like me anyways. She was my wife. Our vows were to be together in sickness and in health. She didn’t see it that way.”
You watch as he shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping to the portrait with his fingers outstretched but never outright touching the canvas.
“She said it was til death do us part but I thought she was my one,” he sighs sorrowfully, “so I changed her and she loathed me. She eventually left one night never to come back. I didn’t chase after her, resigned to her resentment. I didn’t hear from her for hundreds of years. Then Claire came along.”
Your eyes jump from Ada to the smiling redhead in the other portrait.
“Her brother needed her to marry someone with an upstanding background; someone with title and lands to trade,” he smiles bitterly at you, “I posed as my own great great nephew and set up the marriage. We became friends through our letters and when we wed it was wonderful. I kept what I was from her for as long as possible.”
He steps over to you and you flinch making his eyes droop in pain.
“She figured it out quickly, such a smart woman,” he smiles crookedly, “I loved her dearly, but she wasn’t enough either. I changed her thinking that this is it, but it wasn’t. She wasn’t the one either. Ada came soon after and easily whisked her away from me.”
He sighs forlornly. Your lips part but you change your mind and refrain from saying anything.
“Claire’s brother even convinced Ada to change him so he could defend her honor against me,” he blows out a short breath, “letting you know in case he shows up to be the gallant hero.”
“Leon,” you murmur, at a complete loss for words.
“We all understand each other now and they’re happy where they are,” he laughs derisively at himself, “and I’ve lived alone here, running this place through a shell company hoping against hope for just one more chance.”
“This is insane,” you finally say to him, “you’re telling me you’re a vampire and I’m beholden to you? And on top of that you practically have a coven. This is impossible.”
“But you feel the pull, too,” his voice dips into that low smoky tenor, “you’re the one. You are to be my new bride.”
Your laugh startles you both, but you can’t stop the manic giggles once they start. Once the mania seems to pass and with it your hysterical laughter, you finally get yourself under control and clear your throat.
“Prove it,” you tell him seriously, heart beating so fast your sure he can hear it, “let me see this vampire side of yours and if I believe you, if you convince me, then I’ll be your bride.”
His smile lights up his whole face making your breath catch.
“That’s easily done.”
He stands directly in front of you and that strange energy fills the room; you watch in complete astonishment as he looks like he dissolves until there’s only mist floating in the air. It drifts languidly past you and you feel the bed dip with body weight.
His hot breath caresses your ear, “Is that enough, little bride?”
A full body shudder hits you as he kisses across your neck, the sharp prick of fangs dragging across your skin.
“Let me bite you,” he whispers sweetly, “let me show you how deep our bond truly is.”
Feeling completely off centered, you breathe out one word without thinking, going with only what feels right.
“Yes.”
His teeth sink into the side of your neck and you cum, slick filling your panties until you’re sure it’s dripping down your thighs. It feels like a typhoon of emotions rains down through your body, pleasure so strong your eyes sting; then, it’s swept through to be quickly replaced by a feeling of home so deeply connected to the man behind you you could openly weep. It’s like a puzzle piece slotting into place somewhere in your chest.
Moaning, your hands scratch at the bedding and he hums against your skin. Pulling away with a low groan, he runs his tongue over the puncture marks.
“So good,” he mouths against your jaw, “let me mark you again.”
Whimpering, you lean back against him as he sinks his teeth into a new spot, softly sucking blood from the wound. His hands slip around your waist to pull you into the V of his thighs. You choke out a whine as your cunt throbs, on the verge of another orgasm and he hasn’t even touched you intimately aside from his teeth in your neck.
“Leon,” you keen, one hand reaching over your head to tangle in his soft, snowy hair.
Chillbumps race down your body when he finally pulls away to place a soft kiss on the bite. He sucks at the tender skin making you mewl longingly until he pulls away with a sigh.
“Let me taste that sweet little pussy,” he purrs in your ear, “I have been dreaming of biting your thighs and kissing your cunt til you can’t take anymore.”
Tugging his hair harder, you whimper and nod your head, “Please, Leon.”
The scent of cedar comes across stronger as he kisses your neck one last time before shifting you both until you’re laying back on his bed. He strokes his hands all down your body, eyes drinking in your expressions.
“You’ve been driving me crazy this entire time,” he slowly undresses you, scraping his sharp incisors against the skin he reveals, “smell so good, so sweet. Makes my mouth water.”
You whimper while watching as he unbuttons your jeans and works them and your panties off of your legs. He groans to see the slick mess between your thighs, cunt glistening with your arousal.
“Look at you,” he breathes out, blown out pupils flicking up to your own dazed eyes.
Wasting no time, he lays down between your spread legs and kisses the top of your pussy, ignoring where you most want his mouth. He drags his lips down and then buries his face in your cunt, spreading your lips apart with his tongue as he licks all over your pussy. Grunting, he shoves his tongue into your hole to spear you open on the thick muscle.
“Leon,” you whisper down to him, feeling so turned on you can’t think straight.
He groans and pulls back, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
With a sigh, you relax against the sheets only to jolt as your pussy throbs when he bites you at the crease where your cunt meets your thigh.
Crying out softly, your head thrashes against his bed as he repeats it on the other side.
“I know, but bear with me,” he murmurs, blood coating his mouth as he lovingly kisses the puncture wounds, “doing so well.”
You splay back out against his sheets as he buries his face between your thighs again. He keeps your legs spread as he slowly kisses and sucks at your cunt, like he’s never tasted anything better in his life. Everything’s sensitive and on the verge of too much, but you wouldn’t dream of asking him to stop. That slow syrupy pleasure that’s made your thoughts honey thick is more than welcome.
He laps along the seam of your pussy lips until he glides the tip of his tongue up to the hood of your clit. Leon circles the pudgy bud all slow and soft, tongue dipping down to flutter inside your soaked hole. Groaning at the slick flooding his mouth, he laps at your cunt with long broad strokes of his tongue. He pulls back to suck on your pussy lips before kissing across to your thigh and sinking those sharp fangs into your supple skin.
Your back arches, a low whine spilling from your kiss bitten lips. He kisses and sucks the bitemark until it's ugly and irritated, then drags his lips back to your cunt, kissing your mound softly. He makes out with your pussy with hot and bloody open mouthed kisses, spit drenching your swollen clit as you moan loudly.
Your orgasm builds higher and higher until it’s a tight band ready to snap in your lower belly. Leon senses you getting closer from your body spasming and your voice gaining in volume as he greedily eats your cunt, hungry eyes watching you from between your legs.
With a low keening groan rumbling from deep in his chest, he sinks his fangs into your fat pussy lips as he fucks his tongue into your clenching hole. That pinprick of pain flooded by intense pleasure is enough to push you completely over the edge. Wailing, your spine bows as your climax floods through your body, cunt pulsing and gushing slick as your toes curl in the sheets.
Almost growling into your pussy, Leon flutters his tongue into your hole, lapping up all the slick dripping from your cunt, tongue loudly squelching in and out of your clenching walls.
He finally pulls away with a low moan of pleasure, lower jaw coated with slick and blood.
“So good for me, little bride,” he slinks up your body, joints moving unnaturally but you're hardly able to think past the pleasure buzzing in your brain, “going to make you mine, keep you forever.”
Humming, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him down into the messiest kiss of the night. He almost snarls into your kisses as he gets rougher, tongue and teeth dominating your mouth, a bruising pressure on your lips.
“Promise me you’ll stay,” he demands, eyes flashing at you as he presses you down harder into the mattress, “stay with me, be mine.”
You softly brush back his hair, voice soothing as you reply, “I promise, Leon. I’m all yours. I’ll be your new bride.”
He nuzzles his face into your neck before sinking those deliciously sharp teeth into you again. Weakly moaning, your eyes roll back as your clit throbs in time with your heartbeat. You feel him shudder when he pulls away to kiss the sluggishly bleeding marks.
“My bride,” he sighs, dragging his pouty lips across your jaw, nose tracing your skin, “you promise to give me all that you are.. all that you will be.”
“Promise,” you gasp out as his hand sneaks down to tease across your clit, cunt soaking the sheets further with fresh slick, “promise, Leon.”
He kisses you then, the hot copper tang of blood flavoring his sweet sentiment. You’re swept under another tide of arousal from his messy lips and tongue while his fingers play with your pudgy clit.
He shifts until he’s next to you, blood smeared mouth parted as his eyes trail down your body. Gripping your hip, he helps turn your body to face him, leaving you both lying on your sides. Your hands reach out to trail down his chest just now noticing that he’s still dressed.
“No fair,” you tease, tugging on the silky material.
He laughs softly, bringing your hand up to kiss your inner wrist before scraping his fangs across the sensitive skin making you shiver. Letting go of your hand, he quickly undresses, dropping his clothes off the side of the bed in a heap. You bite your lip, taking in the long lean lines of his body, eyes widening to see his thick cock filled out and resting against his thigh.
“Leon,” you breathe out, wide eyes tracking back up to his pale blue ones.
This time your hands lightly scratch along his pecs to his twitching abdominal muscles, nails barely scratch the soft thatch of hair above his hard cock.
“You can touch me, liebling,” his lips quirk up into a half smile, “I only bite a little.”
A giggle slips out and your hand grasps the base of his dick and squeezes earning a low groan from the handsome man next to you.
“Stroke me, tease me, do whatever you wish,” he murmurs, hands coming up to cup your breasts, “I’ll enjoy it all.”
You whimper as his long fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles across your stiff nipples.
While one of your hands teases the head of his dick, you slide the other one to cup his balls making his cock kick, blurting precum onto your fingers.
“It’s so sticky,” you murmur unthinkingly, smearing the precum around his tip making it slippery for your fingers to rub across.
He groans loudly, bucking his hips and sliding his cock through your fingers in a clumsy effort to fuck your loose fist.
“And these are so sensitive,” his low tone razes goosebumps as he tweaks and pinches your nipples until you’re rubbing your thighs together.
“Leon,” you moan, arching your back to press your breasts more firmly into his hands.
“I haven’t had a chance to taste these,” he purrs, ducking his head to nip your chest.
“Please,” you tighten your hand around his cock and pump your fist, “bite me.”
He presses closer against you, hands pushing your breasts up as he dips his head down. Kissing the stiff peak, he licks around the puckered skin close to your nipple.
“Smell so good,” he mumbles, kissing your nipple softly before sucking it into his mouth.
He rolls his tongue around the hard bud before pulling away with a soft pop. He drags his lips down to suck on the skin underneath your breast before opening his mouth and biting deep into the tender flesh.
“Oh god,” you cry out, body writhing so much Leon has to use one hand to grip your ribcage tightly to keep you still.
You're too out of it to jerk him off, hands instead moving to grab onto his hips. He pulls away with a gasp only to sink his bloody teeth into the soft fat of your other breast. Your cunt is a drippy mess by the time he pulls away the second time, tongue sucking the blood off his fangs as his eyes seem to shine with unnatural light.
“The finest of wines,” he smiles at you, licking his lips slowly.
Your cunt throbs and aches, walls fluttering around nothing—feeling empty and needy.
“Leon,” you grab his hand and guide it to your soaked cunt, “please, I want you.”
“Oh my beautiful bride, so wet and ready for me,” he hisses, easily sinking two fingers knuckle deep into your clenching pussy.
Your hands move from his hips to dig into his shoulders making him grind his fingers deeper into your aching cunt. He pulls them halfway out before thrusting them back in, the flat of his palm smacking against your swollen clit.
Nails digging deeper into his skin, you rock your hips in time with his hand, whining and moaning as he fingerfucks your pussy rough and deep.
“Such a sweet little wife I have,” he kisses your ear as your eyes struggle to stay open, cunt clamping down on his fingers from the endearment.
He drags his cock against your thigh, smearing precum against your skin to mix with the slick dripping from your pussy.
“I want to be inside you,” he whispers hotly against your lips, “I want to be buried deep in my bride’s pussy as I drink from her pleasured body.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, throat dry from all your gasping and panting, “I need you inside me, Leon. Please.”
He pulls his fingers out slowly making you whimper once your cunt’s empty again. Leon shushes you gently, gripping his cock in one hand while his other grabs your thigh and wraps it over his waist. Rubbing the fat head of dick up and down your slit, he teases his cock across your hole before using the tip to part your pussy lips and rub across your sensitive clit.
You rock your hips forward and he kisses your neck, tongue lapping at the marks he left. Moving his cock back down, he slowly presses his dick into your leaking hole.
“So tight,” he murmurs, praise lacing his tone and making you hump down onto his cock.
He lets you work your wet cunt on his dick until he’s buried fully inside your pulsing heat.
“Needed this,” he groans, rutting his cock slowly in and out of your pussy, “needed to be inside of you, a part of you.”
Pleasure washes over you like the tide meeting the shore. Leon’s cock grinds against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt making you ooze slick until it’s dripping down his balls, leaving a creamy ring around the base of his dick.
With a small shift, he rolls you completely over onto your back, body weight pressing you down into the mattress as he fucks in deeper inside your fluttering pussy. His pelvis grinds down onto your pudgy clit sending little bolts of desire throughout your whole body.
“Leon, so good,” you whimper, fingers grasping at his biceps, hips rolling forward to keep his dick inside you, leaking tip pressed against your cervix.
“Taking me so well, a perfect fit,” he kisses you gently, sucking your tongue into his mouth, teeth nicking the muscle causing blood to flavor your kisses.
Moaning hungrily, Leon gets rougher, mouth pressing against yours so tightly your teeth ache. A high keening cry slips out between the bruising press of Leon’s lips against yours. Pulling away, he growls and drags his mouth to your neck, lathing his tongue against the multitude of wounds he left earlier.
“So tight around me, are you getting close, little love?” He chuckles and teases your neck with his teeth making you keen and squirm against him.
“Yes, please, ‘m close,” you moan, legs coming up to wrap tightly around his waist, “w’nna cum, wanna feel you inside me.”
Leon hums and swivels his hips, rutting his cock into your cunt without pulling out until you’re clawing at his back with short choked off whines. He grinds against your clit until your eyes roll back into your head.
His teeth sink into your neck one last time, pushing you over the edge for the second time as your orgasm crashes through your body. Crying out, your arms and legs lock around Leon’s body, head thrown back as your cunt clenches around his dick.
“So lovely,” he pulls back, licking the blood away from your neck, “my perfect bride.”
He rabbits his hips into your squelching cunt until finally stilling, cock buried balls deep inside your spasming pussy as you milk his throbbing dick. Your pussy walls flutter and clamp down around him as he spills hot and sticky inside your slick heat.
“Beautiful,” he kisses your earlobe with a sigh, cock kicking inside your pussy as he finishes painting your walls white.
Endorphins make you dizzy and bubbly, smiling up at Leon’s blood stained face as he gazes lovingly down at you.
“My husband,” you murmur, lovesick and sweet, hands coming up to caress his face and he kisses each of your palms.
“All yours,” he promises seriously, “there is a reason why all things are as they are.”
You laugh and smooth a thumb under his eye, “You’re so cute.”
He snorts a laugh, delighting you immensely, and settles down into the messy sheets before pulling you into his chest.
With a soft kiss placed atop his heart, you snuggle into his body until he wraps his arms around you. The soft rise and fall of his chest lulls you to sleep.
Talking to Lara the next day is surprisingly easy. You have the feeling Leon used some weird vampire energy on her since she seemed unusually chill about it. Promising you that she’ll keep in touch once she heads back home, you spend the few short hours she has left together before she leaves early for the airport.
It’s sad to see her go, but with Leon’s steady presence next to you filling your senses with that wonderful smell of cloves and cedar, you have zero regret in staying.
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Chapter Fourteen (Part 2)
When my phone buzzes in my pocket I feel a jolt of anxious nausea, but still, whip it out so quickly that it almost slips out of my gloved hand. I release my thumb to tap the screen, anticipating another message from Dean, but this time it isn’t him.
It’s Jude.
A weird half-laugh half-cry escapes me and my stomach flutters. The last person I ever thought would message me, as I fully expected to never have to hear from him again, but here he is, lighting up my phone on an ordinary Friday afternoon. Curiously I open the message.
Thought you’d followed me to Berlin.
He writes. Quickly followed by a photo of a girl standing ahead of him in a bakery. She has the same coat as I do, and the same hair cut and colour. She really does look like me. I watch the little dots bounce as he types another message.
Looks like you have a German doppelganger.
A smile quirks on my lips, I can’t help it, and then quickly I open my camera and point it up towards a corner of the Cathedral eaves where a horrible gothic gargoyle sits guard with its grotesque little mouth wide open in a silent scream. I giggle softly to myself as I zoom in on it.
So weird.
I type back, attaching the photo.
Because I just saw your doppelganger too.
I’m glad that there’s nobody around to see how self-satisfied I am, smiling at my own joke.
Yikes, spitting image. Still snowing, I see.
Relentlessly.
So much for springtime. Weather in that country is so fucked.
I frown. There he goes again with that “your country, that country” stuff.
Wait, are you not Irish anymore? I remember you making a bit of a song and dance out of the ‘half’ part when I met you.
Fair enough. Weather in OUR country is fucked.
Ah yeah, that’s more of it now. Too late Jude, you’ve already disowned us. As a collective nation we’re devastated.
I smirk as I tease him, beginning to pace around, feeling charged with new energy, but then my heart leaps to my throat when my phone comes alive in my hand, buzzing with a phone call from him. I hit accept.
“Hello?”
His voice comes down the line, deep and low in my ear. “Sorry, I just wanted to infer from your tone whether you’re annoyed or amused.”
I smirk. “Insecure, much?”
He laughs and I hear something crinkle on his end. “Well, alright, I knew you were amused, I just didn’t want to juggle eating my lunch with one hand and trying to text you with the other.”
“What did you get?”
“Hm?”
“In the bakery, like, what did you get for lunch?”
“Oh, it’s like a multigrain bread roll thing. With cheese and salami.”
“Sounds nice.”
I hear him take a bite out of it. “Mhm. And for after I got this thing called a Puddingteilchen.”
“Sounds enticing.” I say, giggling at the goofy German accent he just put on.
“It’s essentially a vanilla pastry, they love things with gluten here, I try as many new foods as I can.”
“Mhm, how adventurous.”
“I’m in a very ‘trying-new-things’ phase at the moment. What did you have for lunch?”
“A flat white.”
“Explains why you’re eating vicariously through me.”
I laugh. “Well if there were any food places open I might have gotten something more substantial, right now, honestly the caffeine is just making me feel jittery.”
“Oh no.”
I walk out of the Christchurch grounds and start ambling back down Dame Street with the phone pressed to my ear. “I’m looking right now and there’s genuinely nothing to eat, I swear they’re treating this snowfall like it’s the apocalypse.”
“They always do that, don’t they?” He says, and then quickly corrects himself. “Oh, sorry, we always do that. We, the collective Irish people, a group to which I still very much belong and have not dissociated myself from now that I live abroad.”
I roll my eyes and chuckle. “Okay, I get it. You think I’m dramatic.”
“Never.”
“So what are you doing today? Do you have college?”
“On Fridays I only have classes in the morning, so actually, right now I’m about to go looking for a costume.”
“A costume? For what?”
“This party I’m going to next month.” He says. “I’m looking for something from the eighties.”
“There’s an 80’s theme?”
“80’s movies, so like, specifically a character from a famous flick. I can’t just be some generic 80’s man. These people have strict rules.”
“Aha, so is this some kind of ticketed event?”
“No, it’s a house party.”
“Strict rules for a house party.”
“You have no idea.” He laughs and I hear him moving about, presumably getting up from wherever he had been sitting to begin walking around. I try to imagine where he might be, but having never been to Berlin it’s difficult to visualise the way that the streets might look. “My friends, the ones hosting the party, they do this all the time. There’s always a theme and you have to adhere to it directly otherwise you don’t get to come in.”
“Yikes.”
“I know, and really, I’m not a costume guy, at least I wasn’t. I showed up to the first party, which, by the way, was themed as ‘Wild West’, in jeans and a t-shirt. They asked me where my cowboy hat was and then closed the door in my face.”
“Wow, that’s intense.”
“Yes, but it’s all in the name of creativity, I guess. Astrid likes going to them, actually, it’s where we met, so I try to make my best effort.”
His mention of Astrid makes me feel some kind of strange way, but I ignore my unsettlement. “So what are you thinking for this one?”
“Well, any ideas?”
“Hmmm… Marty McFly?”
He laughs. “There will be at least three other Marty McFlys. Red puffer vest and blue jeans? Too easy.”
“Well excuse me! You asked for a suggestion.”
“I was hoping for a good one.”
“I forgot how sassy you are.”
“You missed that about me, I bet.”
“Did you assume I missed anything about you?” There’s a pause then, in which I instantly feel horrible, and the feeling only increases the longer he waits before saying anything.
“Well-” He starts, but there seems to be a delay in the line as I end up cutting him off with my next panicked words. “So what idea did you have for a costume?”
He laughs in a somewhat self-conscious way, probably glad of the swerve. “Well I was thinking maybe Maverick from Top Gun.”
“Typical man choice.” I say immediately, which makes him laugh. “Sorry, is that too predictable for you?”
“I can see you doing that. Wearing your little bomber jacket and aviator shades, very hyper masculine. Men just love Tom Cruise.”
“I am many things, but I don’t think I qualify as hyper masculine” He snorts. “Have you seen my cute little earrings?”
“No, you’ve never once mentioned them.”
“So I’m curious, what costume would you have picked if you were invited?”
“Baby from Dirty Dancing.” I say immediately, because I’ve already been thinking about it for half this conversation. “I want to do that curly thing to my hair and see if it’d suit me.” I catch sight of my reflection while passing a stop window and pick out a strand of my limp, straight hair that has never seen texture beyond the loose waves that remain after I’ve taken my plaits out.
“It would. And the costume, would you go for the shirt and shorts or the pink dress from the ending?”
A smile twitches on my lips. “Sounds like you know Dirty Dancing pretty intimately.”
“A good movie is a good movie, I’m not embarrassed.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you should be.”
“I can’t believe it, Evie.” He says with that easy laugh he always had. “You’re the very same as you used to be.”
I baulk a little bit, because I don’t feel in any way the same as I used to back then, when every little thing I did would make me second guess myself, every word I spoke I’d agonise over, and now I don’t feel that easy as much. Now when I speak, people listen to what I say and seem to believe that I’m interesting, even if I don’t. The Evie I was back when he met me and the Evie I am now are nothing alike. “I’m not the same.”
“Well, I think that you are. You’re still so cheeky, you don’t let me get away with anything.”
“I don’t think I was like that back then.”
“What? Seriously?”
“No, I was just shy and awkward and self conscious all the time. I was a nightmare to be around.”
I hear him pause to consider this. “With all due respect, I probably wouldn’t have spent so much time with you if you were like that. You were shy, sure, but you were always funny.”
“You thought I was funny?”
“You don’t remember how much we used to laugh at everything?”
“Yes, but I felt like I was just laughing at the things you said because you were so funny.”
“I’m not that funny.”
“Come on.”
“I’m not funny enough to carry an entire one of our conversations all by myself.” A pause. “You really don’t like that I’ve said that you’re the same, do you?”
“No.” I admit with some reluctance, glancing through the gates of George’s Street Arcade, all of the stalls chained and boarded up inside, seeing it so silent and empty for the first time. Eerie.
“I’m sorry. You’re different too in loads of ways, I was just trying to say that the things I liked best about you are still intact, and I’m glad of it.”
“It’s okay, just sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy. I seem to remember things wrong a lot.”
“Mm?” He says encouragingly.
“Like, I dunno, it’s as though the way that I’ve stored things in my memory bank is different from how normal people do it. I tend to twist things to fit my own narrative, does that make sense?”
“Like what narrative?”
“Like, I don’t know… like that I was a loser, or something.” My face gets hot despite the frigid air, and I feel I’m being too frank with him. He probably doesn’t care to hear it. “It doesn’t matter, I’m not really sure what I mean.”
“You were never a loser.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“I mean it! I always thought you were cool.”
What on earth? I was never cool, especially not when I was seventeen, and I can’t help but scoff.
He sighs. “Well, I’m not here to convince you. I’m just telling you what I thought, you can choose whether or not to believe me.”
“I don’t.”
“Damn, okay, well, you got me. You were the worst, and I hated hanging out with you.” Even though he’s clearly being sarcastic his words still kind of sting, as they reflect almost exactly what Kelly had said to me on Stephen’s night. Jude might not mean them, but someone else had. He seems to sense this and quickly backtracks. “Sorry, that was a stupid joke. Like I said, I’m not that funny.”
“You are.” I say. “Actually, your whole thing is that you’re funny, but in a slightly mean way.”
“So I have realised. You know I used to be really mean? Like when I was about fourteen, and I’ve always worried that the vibe stuck around. Did you think I had a mean boy vibe when we used to hang out?”
Kind of, but I didn’t hate it.” I laugh through my nose, and my breath clouds in the air. “In fact I felt bad for liking it.”
“Who was I even mean to? I don’t remember.” He pauses and then adds, “Which I suppose goes to show how often I was a dickhead – I can’t even remember my own crimes.”
“Liam.” I say.
“Oh yeah” He says remorsefully. “He probably didn’t deserve the shit he got. We were all mean to poor Liam. ”
“Speak for yourself, I was nice.”
“Oh come on, you were meanest of us all.”
I scoff. “In what world?”
“Please, I didn’t reject his debs invitation and leave him destitute, crying on the beach in a wetsuit.”
“You’re created an entire false narrative here, he wasn’t crying.”
“Okay, sorry now, but there’s no scenario in my head in which he wasn’t. I just can’t imagine that. He was sobbing in my version of events.”
“Trust me Jude, he was fine. He drove away from me that day without shedding a single tear. Nobody was crying over me back then.”
The line goes quiet for a moment and for some reason my skin prickles like an icy wind has licked over me despite how I’ve warmed up from all of the walking. The silence only lasts for a beat and then his voice returns, bright and easy as ever. “So tell me, who did you end up taking to your debs in the end?”
“Oh God.” I breathe. “Where do I even begin with this? How much time do you have for the highlight reel of sixth year?”
“Lay it on me, Evie.”
He keeps me company all the way back to my house, and doesn’t even hang up when he starts going in and out of shops in search of his Top Gun costume, giving me updates on what he’s finding, open to any and all suggestions I have about how to create his own patches that match the ones Tom wears in the film. I made him promise to send me a photo of the costume before he wears it out, and when he says he will I find myself actually believing him.
I start feeling a little sad when I turn onto my street, knowing that I’ll have to hang up soon. We’ve been having so much fun and then…
“Oh Jesus.” I say to myself as The front of my building comes into view, and I completely cut him off in the middle of a sentence. His voice comes back at me through her receiver, alarmed. “Did something just happen?”
“No, it’s fine, just, I have to go.”
“Okay well, call me back anyt-”
I hang up the phone and stuff it into my pocket as I march up the front steps to the apartment, feeling anger rising inside me.
“Dean!” I cry. He’s standing by the door, shoulder resting against the wall as though he’s been waiting there for a while, and he doesn’t look surprised to see me, fuming, charging up the steps towards him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
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