*the night is cold, there is light rain pattering on the ground and the empty streets are dimly-lit*
[Kenny is walking home from working at the hospital. He's tired and not really paying attention to anything as he walks.]
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Nox | Teaser
It has been centuries since the noble vampire Taehyung has allowed himself to want another. He had thought his emotions under control, his chilled heart far from susceptible to such human fallacies. Really–How many times has he borne witness to the lethal consequences of desire for a warm body, a soft kiss? But when he happens upon you, injured on the side of the road, bathed in the darkness of a long-settled evening… He finds himself unable to move on without at least ensuring your safety, all the while denying the fervent need budding in his damned soul.
pairing: taehyung x reader
release date: october 30th, 5:30pm PST / 8:30pm EST
contains: bram stoker dracula/vampire au, historical au, blood (duh), violence, animal death, taehyung is in a cravat, a fic from HIS pov!, did someone say sexual tension?
part of a halloween collab 🎃
preview: “Excuse me, miss.”
The rumble of his deep voice sliced through the serenity of the night.
And when you raised your head, when you turned towards him, he found himself struck by a pair of the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. With his own enhanced vision, he could see you clearly despite the lack of moonlight and for a moment, he could only stare. Drawn in by something inexplicable. Unfathomable.
With a small cough, he squeezed his hand tightly around the carved raven head of his walking staff to bring himself back to reality. “…Do you require assistance, miss?” He asked again, careful to hide his sharpest teeth from view.
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are a great friend ;)
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Halloween Themed Prompt List:
Elucien - 44. “Just one bite.” (because I imagine Lucien would dress up like a vampire on Hallowen) + 61 - “The legend said it only goes after virgins…so sucks for you I guess.”
Okay, I love this one! LOL. I may not have followed the comments exactly, but, like, I'm happy. 👀
Elain is out at a party when her eyes fall on a mysterious redhead she can't help but feel drawn to.
Warnings: Mild Smut, Biting, Vampirism
Word Count: 2,462 | Read on AO3
Elain froze in place as she looked at him.
His crimson hair fell straight, passing his shoulders, and his golden brown skin seemed to practically glow in the dim light of the club. His heterochromia was particularly stunning, with one russet eye and one golden - colors Elain rarely saw - and his sharp, elegant features made him so handsome she honestly thought she might swoon.
Even just meeting his gaze had her face heating. And the intensity of his stare only made it worse as he held hers, as if wrapping her under a spell.
"Whoa, take a look at him," an all-too-familiar voice said from next to Elain, snapping her back to reality.
"Ianthe," Elain sighed, not willing to take her eyes off of this mystery man. How had she never seen him before? There was no way he was younger than her, and Elain was a senior. He had to be one too. Unless he didn't go to the university…perhaps only recently home after going away to a different school.
"Do you even know who he is?" Ianthe asked Elain, her voice smug and condescending. Elain just shook her head. She had no clue, and she wasn't sure she cared. "He's a Vanserra."
"Vanserra?" Elain finally looked over at Ianthe, trying not to hate how gorgeous the woman was. Blonde with teal eyes and a near perfect figure, she barely even had to try to look good. Not that she didn't. No, Ianthe always put in the extra effort to make sure she was the most stunning person in the room. Elain typically wouldn't care, but Ianthe was an absolute nightmare to her, always putting her down or attempting to take the attention away from Elain. Again, that wouldn't be an issue, except it happened literally all the time. No matter where they were, who they were with, if Ianthe was there, and someone was giving Elain more attention - especially a boy - Ianthe would do everything in her power to steal that attention for herself, even if she already had five guys fawning over her.
It was what ended Elain's last relationship. Though, in the end, she supposed Ianthe was doing her a bit of a favor in luring her boyfriend into bed. Better to find out he'd be willing to cheat after one year than five.
"You don't know the Vanserras?" Ianthe mused, the shock in her voice unable to hide the delight in her eyes at being able to feel smarter than Elain. It was the one thing Ianthe couldn't steal with a smile and bat of her eyelashes - Elain's grades. And it definitely seemed to bug Ianthe. "They're the wealthiest family in the state. They own some big, international shipping company, not to mention have shares in all of the highest profit public companies, and their dad is even on the board for High Lord Incorporated."
"The retail conglomerate?"
"That's the one," Ianthe confirmed. "The nicest jewelry and clothes stores this world knows."
"And completely owned and operated by vampires," she added with a soft laugh as she connected the dots. It wasn't exactly an issue. There'd been a change in vampire leadership over twenty years ago, and it was now against their own laws to completely drain a human. Heck, the new leader even established that vampires had to receive consent from a human to bite them. That, along with the invention of synthetic blood, really improved vampire-human relations.
"As if that matters," Ianthe dismissed. "But, still, they're a very secretive family. Hard to actually find one out in public."
"Yet here one is," Elain sighed, looking back toward the man to find he was still watching her, a soft curve to the right side of his lips.
"And I don't plan to waste the opportunity." Ianthe adjusted her corset, pushing up her breasts in the process, and smirked down at Elain. "Oh, but legend has it that they only go for virgins…so, sucks for you." She flashed a fake smile at Elain and then started toward the man.
"Like anyone would actually believe you're a virgin," Elain muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes and walking toward the bar. She had no interest in watching Ianthe seduce him, and experience told her she didn't have a shot once Ianthe got involved. So, instead, a drink would have to do.
Leaning against the bar, she ordered a glass of spiced rum, focusing entirely on the display behind the bartenders. Keeping herself and her eyes occupied.
"Now that's a drink I can get behind," a silky voice admitted beside her as the bartender handed her the glass. "Could I get the same thing? And I'll cover hers as well."
"No. There's no ne-"
Her mouth cut off her own words as she turned to look up at the man, shocked to find herself staring up at those russet and gold eyes.
"Please, I insist," he offered with a smile that had her toes curling.
"Thank you," she replied, her eyes wide, unable to look away from his perfect face. Up close, she could see a scar that went across the left side of his face, looking as if it went through his eye. She couldn't help but feel it made him look more handsome.
Taking the glass from the bartender and offering his card, he clinked his drink against hers. "The pleasure is all mine." He held her gaze as he brought the glass up to his lips and took a sip. Elain mimicked him, savoring in the flavors of her drink as he cascaded down her throat. "What's your name?"
It took her a moment to register he'd asked her a question, finally spluttering out, "Elain." She then blushed heavily, realizing she must have sounded like an idiot.
"It's nice to meet you, Elain. I'm Lucien."
She smiled and nodded before coming up with something to keep the conversation going. "Do you go to this university?" she asked, already fairly certain she knew the answer.
"No," he chuckled, taking another sip. "I went to a university up north, but I graduated last year and recently came back home to join the family business. What do you study here?"
"Horticulture and Plant Science."
His brows raised at that answer. "What do you hope to do with that?"
"I'd like to work at an arboretum or in a garden, focusing on the conservation of various plant species - preferably floral," she explained. It wasn't exactly a common goal, but she'd always had a passion for flowers. Words couldn't express how sad she was when she learned that some floral species had needlessly gone extinct. She hoped to ensure that list would never grow longer.
"That's quite lovely," he sighed, smiling down at her before downing his drink. "I'd love to hear more, but it's a bit loud in here. The downstairs area is a far calmer and quieter atmosphere, if you'd be interested in joining me?"
She could feel her eyes brighten as she nodded, finishing off her own drink and then following his lead. She caught Ianthe's eye as he took her hand, leading her away, and couldn't help but wink and smirk at the girl, who was gaping open-mouthed at Elain.
The downstairs was peaceful, the area providing more of a lounge-type feel. It had crimson walls save for the one behind the bar that had dark wood paneling. There were well-lit shelves with various spirits behind it and tall, red plush bar chairs against the counter that matched the wooden panels.
He led her to the low table in the corner, a black and red couch, and two black leather chairs around it, all entirely empty. She took a seat on the couch, frowning as he sat across from her in one of the chairs, until she flicked her gaze to the spot beside her and back at him. He chuckled and accepted the unspoken invitation, butterflies flapping wildly in her stomach as she felt her own part of the cushion rise when he sat.
A waiter came to them quickly, Lucien ordering another round of rum for them while barely taking his eyes off of her.
"So…flowers?" he started, draping one arm over the back of the sofa and behind her. "What got you interested in them?"
Elain laughed softly. "Is it awful if I say I've always liked pretty things?"
"Should I be thanking you for the compliment?" he teased, a spark flaring in his eyes, causing Elain to blush and look down. His fingers gently lifted her chin back up as he 'tsked'. "Don't take those big browns away from me." Flashing him a smirk, she shut her eyelids, joining him when he huffed out a laugh. His hand traveled up into her hair as his thumb stroked her cheek. His skin was so cold, but it wasn't harsh. It was a soft, comforting cold - a chilly breeze heartily welcome during a warm day. "Please?"
At that she opened her eyes again, finding his face closer, his breath caressing her face. She could smell the spiced rum on him, mixed in with something like an autumn forest and cinnamon, and it nearly had her eyes rolling back into her head. But she held his gaze, studying those enchanting eyes. She could see flecks of copper in the gold eye, and golden spots floating in the russet, and both seemed to sparkle as he looked into hers. She couldn't understand how he'd like hers so much - plain, brown, one solid color. The only thing Elain really liked about them was that she shared them with her father. Far preferable to the curse her sisters had, inheriting their mother's eyes.
Her heart began to race as Elain felt her body start to lean in, as if she were being pulled toward him, her hand raising, fingers brushing through his silky hair.
"Elain," he sighed, using the hand tangled in her hair to stop her before she closed the gap completely. "This…may not be wise." She furrowed her brows, her head tilting in question. "You know what I am, don't you?"
She nodded, her fingers passing through his hair again as she studied his face and then softly trailed her thumb over his scar. "I know," she replied, offering him a small smile. "Doesn't matter to me."
"Are you sure? It's not al-"
"Lucien," she said, interrupting him and pulling his eyes back to hers. "Kiss me."
His eyes widened, but he obeyed, bringing his lips to hers and giving her a tentative kiss. It was just a second, but it may have been the best second of Elain's life. Despite his body's temperature, his lips were somehow warm, soft, and Elain could swear an electric jolt flowed through her at the touch. He pulled away just a few inches, but she wasn't having it. She closed the gap again and pressed her lips to his, stronger this time, her own hand gripping his hair to keep him in place.
As his other hand found her waist, she brushed her tongue against his lips and he opened for her, allowing Elain to slide her tongue right in.
She moaned as his met hers, Lucien's movements soft and gentle, yet everything she could ever want. It was like he was setting a fire inside her, starting in her mouth before it spread quickly throughout her body. Another ignited as he trailed the hand that had been in her hair down her body, finding a spot on her hips between her shirt and skirt, skin meeting skin. Their tongues danced together in a waltz before he dragged his mouth away, pressing kisses up her jaw, down her neck.
He ever-so-lightly started to trail his teeth back up her, but he paused quickly, his body stiffening as if he were trying to hold himself in place. She was about to whine and ask him why he stopped when she realized what might be happening.
"I'm sorry," he breathed, still holding her close.
"It's okay," she whispered. "You can have a try." She could hear her older sister, Nesta, screaming at her in her mind, but Elain didn't care. She trusted Lucien, and it was something she wanted to give him.
"What?!" he asked in shock, his face pulling further away as he lifted his eyes to hers.
She gave him a sensuous half smile, bringing her lips to his for a moment. "Just one bite," she explained on to his lips before she gave him another peck.
Lucien's fingers tightening on her body. "Elain…you can't be serious."
"I trust you."
"It's not me I'm worried about," he admitted, resting his forehead on hers. "It's…it can be very pleasurable, to be bitten. Potentially addictive, which can lead humans to seek out dangerous situations."
Elain didn't flinch. She'd heard as much before. "I guess you'll just have to stick around, then."
She gave him another kiss before he could spit out the argument that was clearly building, deeper this time, and Lucien groaned into her mouth. The kiss became frantic, a clashing of tongues and teeth until Elain softly led his head toward her neck. He didn't put up much of a fight as he kissed her skin again.
"Just one bite," he agreed softly as he reached her collar, licking the spot tenderly.
She tilted her neck to give him better access, and gasped as she felt a sharp pressure against her skin, the pain immediately fading as something else took over.
It was a feeling she couldn't quite explain, but it flooded through her veins, reaching every extremity and all she could think about was Lucien and the pulsing within her, a pressure building. Gods, was she going to climax from his bite? Not that she'd mind. She felt her breathing become heavier, her entire body squirming in preparation, but then it stopped as soon as it started, and she felt Lucien's tongue back on that spot, then his lips kissing her where he'd bitten.
He pulled away, looking at her with a worried expression, a droplet of her blood still at the corner of his mouth. She smiled at him, leaning in and licking it away - it was hers, after all. She then kissed him again, pushing her tongue into his mouth and giving him that final taste of her, relishing in his moan as their tongues met again. But she didn't kiss him for long.
"I think," she sighed against his lips, still panting softly, "I need you to take me home."
Lucien's eyes widened for a moment as her words hit him, and then his face fell into an easy grin. "Whatever you want…whatever you need…I'm at your service."
@moodymelanist @bridgertononmymind @live-the-fangirl-life @boredserpent
Let me know if you'd like to be on my Elucien, or any, tag list!
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Feral Vampire on the Loose!!
I am absolutely in love with @winslowdraws Vamp!Loboto so I couldn't help but draw the handsome Devil up! I couldn't settle which version I liked better so I'm just uploading both.
Anyway hope you like it and happy Halloween buds!!
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Count Brunswick and Lady Cerise
God I need more time in the day to draw stuff OTL
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Vampire Ferdinand Von Aegir AU
ooo so spooky so wow
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Love Bites, Part 5
Summary: Fourty-seven years ago, Y/N’s life ended after a chance encounter at a nightclub with her now vampire sire Hyunjin. The arrogant ex-prince has hated her since that night, blaming her for everything and has made it his goal for the rest of eternity to make sure she knows it.
Another chance encounter has her pining after a very human university student. She knows getting close to him will put his life at risk, but she can’t help but be drawn in by his sweet nature and adorable smile. What happens when her vengeful sire learns of her interest in the human boy? Can she save him or will Hyunjin ruin everything once again?
Characters: Vampire!Chan, Vampire!Minho, Vampire!Changbin, Vampire!Hyunjin, Vampire!Jisung, Vampire!Felix, Human!Seungmin, Human!Jeongin, Vampire!Reader
Pairing: Starts Hyunjin x reader, but endgame is Jeongin x reader
Warnings: Blood (it’s vampires so…), violence, Hyunjin is a major asshole, abuse, fighting, smut
“You’re my first girlfriend.” Jeongin says as you both lay on his bed.
It’s snowing outside, the world quiet as most have stayed in for the night. You’re watching it fall, snuggled under a blanket together.
“No, really? You’re adorable, how is that even possible?” You ask.
“No one’s ever been interested.” He shrugs. “I’ve always been the nerdy kid with braces. No one’s ever looked at me the way you do.”
You cup his chin, pressing a kiss to his lips. “They don’t know what they are missing.”
You lean your head back on his shoulder, going back to watching the snow. It’s quiet in the house, the two of you enjoying your time alone.
“What about you?” He asks.
You chew on your lip for a moment, your brain working fast to create the lie. “I’ve had one boyfriend before. It was a couple years ago. He was older than me so I thought he was cool. But we weren’t good for each other. We fought constantly, but I was so determined to get away I ignored all those warning signs. I thought I loved him, but really I was just scared. That’s partly why my brothers are so protective. I fought so hard to get away from them, only to have to come running back scared for my life. That’s why I’m worried about you meeting them. They’re going to put you through the wringer.”
“I’d face them for you.”
You smile at his sincerity. “Maybe someday soon. After the holidays. We don’t really celebrate. It’s kind of...bittersweet for us.”
And it was. Holidays have become distant memories since your turning. You had no family to celebrate with, no traditions to uphold anymore. Most of the guys were older than the holidays that were celebrated, so they never really got the hang of them. Those of you that could remember, it truly was bittersweet. You were happy to spend the day with Jeongin, however he wanted to spend it.
He nods. “I can understand. My family never really got into holidays. The less important ones anyways. I feel like they’re a bit overrated.”
“Well,” You say, turning to face him. “We can spend next week however you want to.”
He leans his forehead against yours. “Even if we just sat here together?”
You smile. “Even if we just sat here. As long as I’m doing it with you. I would watch paint dry.”
You had once. You had gotten locked in the house after a mistake that had nearly gotten everyone in trouble. Felix had been the one to lock you in, delivering food to you while you spent day and night shut in your room. You had gotten bored and painted the wall, and then sat and watched it dry. It had been riveting after being shut in by yourself for days.
He smiles. “That sounds boring.”
You nod. “Yes. But if that’s what you wanted to do, I’d do it.”
He hums, leaning down to kiss you. “I’d much rather do this.”
You kiss him back, pulling his body against yours. You can feel the muscles under this thin t-shirt as you run your hands over his back. He’s been working out, bulking up over the weeks since you’d started following him. You can’t complain.
He pushes you back, leaning over you as he kisses you harder. You fall back onto your back, pulling him closer as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You tangle a hand in his dark hair, letting the soft strands slip through your fingers. He breathes heavily against your lips, pulling away for a moment, his eyes screwed shut.
“Hey.” You breathe, cupping his face. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything.”
You force the words out as the scent of his arousal washes over you. It’s musky and deep, pairing with his scent in a pheremonal cocktail that has your head reeling. You could have jumped his bones right then and there, but it wasn’t about you. You knew he had no experience. The fact he’d never dated anyone before you told you that. He hadn’t admitted it, but you knew. The flush of his cheeks, the pounding of his heart, the scent of arousal, his hard-on poking you in the thigh.
“I’m sorry.” He breathes.
“Don’t apologize.” You smile at him. “It’s a completely normal reaction. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
He nods, pulling away from you. “I-I’m gonna...go to the bathroom.”
You nod, letting him go. He hurries away, flushed down to his toes as he tries to hide the bulge in his sweatpants. It’s cute, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever been with a virgin before. They usually weren’t your type.
You lay on his bed, eyes closed as you listen. You bite your lip, panties getting damp as you listen to his breathy moans. You slip a hand into your panties, furiously rubbing your clit to ease some of the desire running rampant. You cum when he does, not quite satisfied but you shove it aside, grabbing your phone as you wait for him to return.
He comes back a few moments later, face still flushed but you pretend not to notice. He grabs his laptop before joining you on the bed, putting on a movie. Despite what had just happened, it’s not awkward between you, Jeongin holding you close until dawn when you have to leave.
You get back to the house, sneaking in the door. You know you smell, and all you can hope is that everyone is in bed. You never get what you want, however, and you meet Hyunjin in the hallway. He looks you over, smirking.
“Unsatisfying night? I can help with that.”
You shove past him. “I’m fine.”
“Come on, you know I can help you better than any human can.”
“I said I’m fine.”
He grabs your arm, stopping you before you can enter your room. “You never turn me down.”
“I’m not in the mood right now, Hyunjin.”
He stares down at you hard. “Sure smells like it.”
“I said I’m not in the mood.” You shove him off, closing the door in his face, clicking the lock.
Maybe you should have just let him do it.
You spend the holidays with Jeongin, neither of you bringing up what had happened that night. You were fine with that, happy to let things transpire at his speed. You were often left sexually frustrated, but that wasn’t anything new. You were a pro at using your fingers, and they would have to do for now.
You’re sad when the term starts up again, meaning your time alone with Jeongin is over. He would be getting busy again, and the start of the new year meant the days were slowly going to be getting longer. The time you could spend outside would be less and less, meaning you had to come up with more and more excuses as to why you were seeing him less, and couldn’t stay as long.
You know the others are starting to get suspicious. You’ve been careful, trying to keep the scent off of you as much as possible. The wet weather had helped, the snow and rain washing the scent off before you got home. You’re going to have to be very careful.
“You smell like a human.” Jisung says, forcing his face against your neck.
You try to push him off, closing the basement door. “Yeah, I just fed.”
“You smell good.” He groans, pulling you closer. “Not like the human you brought in.”
You manage to push him off, holding him at arm’s distance. “You need to feed. Tomorrow.”
“Will you go with me?”
You bite your lip. You had made plans with Jeongin tomorrow. But Jisung was still young in vampire years. Just over twenty years of being a vampire. Hyunjin had all but abandoned trying to help you at twenty years, but Minho had been careful with Jisung, like Felix had with Changbin.
You nod finally. “Yeah. I’ll go with you.” You’d have to delay your plans with Jeongin, but you weren’t about to do what Hyunjin did to you so many times to Jisung. Jeongin would understand. He’d be disappointed, but he’d understand.
You felt stupid. Like those stereotypical vampires in movies and books. You were standing beside his bed, watching him sleep. It was 2 AM, your excursion with Jisung taking longer than you expected it to. You had texted him, telling him you weren’t going to make it and you could practically hear his disappointment through the text, but he was understanding. You had snuck in the bathroom window, creeping silently to his room.
You sit on the edge of his bed, gently brushing a hand over his forehead, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He looked so young, so sweet in his sleep. He stirs a bit, eyes cracking open. You cover his mouth as he startles awake, shushing him.
“It’s just me.” He moves your hand, taking a deep breath.
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“Seungmin let me in. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.”
“It’s okay.” He says. “I understand.”
“I know. Go back to sleep.”
He takes your hand. “Will you stay?”
“I’ll have to leave in a couple hours.”
“That’s okay. I want to hold you.”
You can’t say no, sliding into bed next to him. He pulls you into his arms, tucking you into his chest. You lay there breathing him in, holding onto him.
“Is it too early to say I love you?” He murmurs. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
You smile, screaming internally. “No. Because I love you too.”
You slip away at dawn, kissing his head before sneaking back out the window. You feel like you could fly as you make your way back to the house, creeping in as the first rays of sun begin to come over the horizon.
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𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲.
that’s the only thought in your otherwise empty head as your (handsome and single) housemate, aran ojiro, pushes you up against the wall of your shared living room.
“shit,” he curses.
you agree. his hands burn through your thin shirt, hot against your waist. his lips find yours as electronic music from the apartment next door pulses in time with your heavy heartbeat. you hear the faint laughter of someone somewhere, and the wet slick of your saliva with aran’s. he tastes vaguely like the lemon sour he had ordered at the bar earlier.
aran kisses with the fervour of a man that’s starving. he leaves you gasping for more when he pulls away, tongue licking away your sticky lip gloss from his top lip.
“you’re tempting, you know that?”
you think you catch a glint of his eyes in the dim light. your chest heaves with each breath, grabbing at his shirt to bring him back in for more.
“then give in to your desires,” you whisper.
you barely have time to finish your sentence before aran dives back in. you let out a noise of pleasure, his warm body pressed to yours as one hand moves to the small of your back. sharp canines graze over your lip and you shudder.
aran’s pupils dilate when your hands wander over his broad chest, t-shirt damp with sweat. he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume and the irresistible allure of your blood. he hangs from a thread, threatening to snap and simply succumb to his cravings.
his eyes follow the curve of your neck, swallowing drily as your skin dips under the rough pad of his thumb. you tilt your jaw to the side and cradle the back of ojiro’s head with one hand.
“you want it, don’t you?”
your voice is barely audible. he nods.
you guide his mouth to your neck, his breath warm as he mouths and nips at your neck. you let out a shaky sigh of his name. he thinks that you must have been made for him.
it happens in a flash. aran’s tongue swipes at your skin before his teeth pierce it right after. his grip keeps you locked in place even as you squirm and groan at the rush of pain, while he drinks greedily. your sweet blood fills his mouth and his head spins with pleasure.
you want more.
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⋯ in the dark of the night [18+]
“the nightmare I had was as bad as can be” ♫
⇥ vampire!𝖇𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖕 𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖆 x reader ⋰ sexy scary
⌧ tw ⋰ murder, blood spilled & ingested, reader death mention, reader physical abuse mention, sacrilegious use of a religious object, corrupt religious figures, spider mention, snake mention
@ original pic credit ⋰ horrorpulpart ⋯ edit + recolor by me ❤️🔥
❍ a/n ⋰ reader has a vulva and breasts, and is fem presenting/woman identifying. everything else is ambiguous
back at it again with another story inspired by an isisafrofairy mood board 💕 plus all the sexy scary pulp art from this tag game, bram stoker’s dracula, castlevania, the sims 4 + wickedwhims, the witcher, and cell block tango from chicago
au set in some olden time before electricity and guns or something idk I never paid attention in history
[read on ao3] - 4448 words
𝖆𝖙 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 they are merely fragments; jagged thoughts that seem to shatter when you try to piece them together.
The deafening silence.
Your heart thudding against your chest.
Those eyes dimming like cooling embers.
Something heavy in your hands that is dripping red onto the wooden floor.
Splattered on your hands, pooling under his head.
I’ve killed him.
Then it’s you that shatters when all the pieces fit.
I’ve killed him. I’ve killed him. I’ve killed him. I’ve killed him. I’ve killed-
They will take everything from your family, ensure they are in worse conditions than the one that led to this, exile them from the town and-
They will have you stoned, or burned alive, or left in the desert to the mercy of the coyotes, or-
"Oh God oh God oh God oh God-" Breath abandons you, each word choked out with desperate gasps as the heavy weight drops from your shaking hands. There is a voice in the back of your mind demanding that you do something - escape into the night, hide the body, beg for divine help and forgiveness - anything. But there you stay, standing and staring at how your sacrifice for the ones you love has sealed all of your doom.
“Sweet of you to save me the trouble."
A startled scream tears up your throat but before it can escape, the man - the one whom appeared within the now open balcony doors - crosses the room impossibly fast to take you in his arms. A warm hand cradles your face while a thumb presses over your lips, barring any sounds from passing through them.
"Shhh, preciosa. I will not harm you."
Gazing into deep brown eyes, all else falls away as you are swept into their depth and a calm washes over you. This man is a stranger - and stranger still, he had to have crept past the guards, through the estate’s garden, and over the second story balcony to reach the master bedchamber - and yet… something within you whispers that you can trust him. That you should trust him.
And you do, because alongside those whispers is the need to have someone to believe in now that you can no longer trust yourself.
When it seems certain that you will remain quiet, his thumb moves to caress your cheek and despite his soft touch, pain radiates through your skin.
"Apparently Reverend Michael did not have that same respect." The gravel of his voice takes an even rougher edge - but rather than the tone, it is the name he spoke that instills fear into you.
Reverend Michael, the most powerful of Cerco’s clergymen. Reverend Michael, whom you’ve married just this morning. Reverend Michael, lying in final rest a few steps away.
I’ve killed him. I’ve killed him. I’ve killed him. I’ve-
"Breathe, preciosa, breathe," the man soothes the choked gasps once again clawing out of you, "That bastard can’t cause anymore misery. You’ve made sure of that." The last sentence is inflected with a smile instead of an accusation, but that does not diminish the urge to explain yourself as if already on trial.
"He-he kissed me. Grabbed my- demanded that I-" Your tongue trips over itself as the disgust returns to tangle with your panic. You knew what the Reverend expected of you. Knew you sold your body, your life, for the bride price that was too overflowing to refuse. But having those hands and lips and eyes on you felt as if spiders crawled over everywhere he touched. Just the thought of laying with him made a bed full of rattlesnakes seem more appealing - and more safe.
"I pulled away, I just. I could not- And then he… he struck me." Clear across the room and into the dresser with a back hand as strong as thunder.
More than the pain, it was unshakable rage that had consumed you then. How dare he punish you as if you were the wicked one? How dare he sit here in opulence while the rest of the town, your family, toils in the unforgiving sun every single day to keep starvation at bay? How dare he send men and boys alike to war against the devil’s spawns while he remains safe behind the town’s fortified walls? How dare he take wife after wife after wife just to have them wither away from his vile seed? How dare he? How dare he?
"Mmmm, and you struck him back,” the man’s smile grows, somehow proud of your greatest sin. “A quick death is better than he deserved, but the irony had to have rubbed salt into the wound.”
He looks down, and your gaze follows his to the gilded cross at your feet. It had adorned the dresser you were thrown against, and now the same crimson that covers your hands, covers its gold.
“The Church will have my soul condemned to Hell,” you whisper, feeling your heart sink as if the descent has already been decreed.
“Would that be the same church that deemed this man holy?” His laugh flows over you and seems to give your fallen heart wings. “Clearly their judgement is more than a little fucked.”
“What they should do is name you a saint, Miss…” he trails off to allow you to offer your name. Clearly your judgment is also fucked since you give it to him without a moment of hesitation. But those whispers murmur comfortingly, drawing your attention away from any worries and instead towards the enchanting way your name rolls off his tongue when he repeats it.
You are even further charmed when he takes your hand in his to place a chaste kiss upon it and introduces himself with, “Obispo Losa, blessed to be in your presence, and now in your debt.”
There is no confusion over what that last part refers to; all of his words have pointed to only one reason for him being here. “Why do you wish him dead?” Curiosity, not judgement, has you wondering. Reverend Michael had done so many wrongs that there would be a shorter list for why anyone would not want him dead rather than the opposite.
The man - Obispo - quirks a brow, the small smile still on his lips as he gives you a look that says, "Do you truly wish to know?"
You lift a brow of your own that replies, "I’ve asked haven’t I?"
Rising to the challenge, Obispo leans in as if sharing a secret and lowers the timbre of his voice to reveal, “His little crusade against my tribe has become more than just a nuisance.”
Which seems to be more of a riddle than a secret. Crusade? Tribe?
Reverend Michael always found a new holy war to be fought with each new moon, always preached about protecting the town from the lurking evil that would ensnare you all if not for him. Whether it be goblins or ghouls, were-creatures or witches, the Reverend took it upon himself to keep everyone safe and secluded from anything that walked outside of God's light.
The last call to arms was against monsters masquerading as humans, gorging on our lifeblood to sustain their own. To hear the Reverend tell it, these bands of wicked beasts, these vampire tribes, massacre entire towns in one night and they had to be stopped before Cerco was next...
All the air leaves the room as realization takes hold as disturbingly as chilled fingers wrapping around your spine. You stiffen in Obispo's arms, suddenly overwhelmingly aware of the blood drying on your hands, the blood racing through your veins.
The change is your demeanor is quick but he is slow to let you go, putting just enough space between the two of you so you no longer touch, yet still close enough to silence you if you make to scream. And although you have been looking at him this entire time, now being out of his embrace, now knowing what he is, the whispers no longer sway your mind and it's as if you are just now truly seeing all of him.
Black curls of hair swept back to reveal a devastatingly handsome face framed by a distinguished beard. Clothes of a nobleman, tailored to a strong yet ordinary physique. You could never possibly guess that he is something other than human.
“Am I in danger of being crucified next?”
There is jest in his tone but no denial of the clear accusation hanging in the air. That should be proof in and of itself, and yet your eyes deny the warnings ringing in your head. How could this be a monster, not a man, standing before you? You’ve only caught glimpses of other creatures around the edge of town when you dared to venture outside of the walls, but even from a distance all of them had some mark, some tale tell difference, that revealed their nature. Obispo looks and sounds and feels as human as you.
It is then that a sermon of Reverend Michael comes to mind; the one where he preached on how to expose the evil walking among us. There was something about souls and reflections that you barely remember but you grasp at the straws for any method of proving your suspicions.
Slowly, oh so slowly, your head turns away from him to look into the large mirror above the dresser. Reflected back is your own image, all terrified and spattered in red with a bruise darkening one side of your face, and… nothing except vacant space where Obispo should appear standing beside you.
Goosebumps prickle your skin as the chill down your spine splinters into the rest of your body to freeze you in place. Unable to bring yourself to look back at him, it is towards the space in the mirror that you pose the question, “Would you have killed me too?”
Will you kill me now? is what you truly wish to know but are too afraid to ask. Since agreeing to the marriage, you have anticipated an early end to your life; but while it had been certain, it had not yet been imminent. Not until this very moment. And now you do not know what to do with the end being so near, other than pray that the kindness Obispo has shown up to this point extends to granting you a quick, painless death.
There is no reflection of his hand reaching out to cup the unbruised side of your face, just the warmth of his skin bleeding into yours as he turns your head to face him.
"I will not harm you,” he repeats his earlier promise, the words ringing clear and - you foolishly hope - true. Foolish because there are no whispers coaxing you to believe in him this time, there is just your desperate wish to live and have someone to hold onto again.
“And I never intended to," he continues. "My tribe only hunts those who hunt us; which is why my only purpose here is to take him and leave this message of truce in his place.”
From within his waistcoat, Obispo draws out a folded letter stamped with an intricate wax seal. It is entirely ridiculous that a nightmarish vampire from the Reverend’s terrifying tales would sneak in just to quietly steal one person away and deliver a note offering peace. You could almost laugh - but you are certain that once you start, you would not stop until you were locked away for hysterics.
In the same composed tone Obispo goes on, “I expected everyone here to be in a drunken slump from the wedding celebration. You were supposed to be asleep until the morning revealed him missing and you a happy widow.”
That all sounds too good to be true, and much too late after the blood shed by your hands. So it is with baited breath that you ask, “And now?”
“And now,” Obispo moves closer and wraps his arm around you so you are once again comforted in his embrace, “we continue down this road until it leads back towards the original path. Can you change out of this gown?”
“Excuse me?” you blink, brows furrowed and mind reeling from all the different directions this conversation has taken. Just moments ago you were convinced he would leave you dead, and now - with his closeness, all the touches, the suggestion of that question - you could almost believe he would have you feeling very much alive.
Your cheeks heat at the thought and your gaze breaks away from his to look down at the plain linen garment you are dressed in. It is modest, long and unshapely, the very gown you wore at home around your family. You had put it on in hopes of discouraging the Reverend’s lust - and yet his sinful nature has led to drops of his blood soaking into the fibers all the same.
“If you change into another gown,” Obispo amends, raising your head back up with an amused look that lets you know he followed where your thoughts had traveled, “this one can be used to mop up the mess since he’s already soiled it.”
Mind whirling from yet another change in direction, it takes a moment for you to understand his plan. “We are… concealing my crime?”
That proud smile returns to his lips as he says, “Many would call it an act of justice, but yes. Tell me where the nearest well is and I’ll gather water while you... redress.”
The heavy pause before his last word is deliberate and surely meant to tease you. And it works, embarrassment rising fast and lodging in your throat, causing the need for you to clear it before you can tell him where to find the well.
There are three within the whole town, and Reverend Michael of course claimed one as his very own. It sits within the lush garden beneath the balcony, and it is the reason the supposed man of God ousted a handful of families to build his estate on this specific plot of land.
While Obispo leaves to gather water, you look for something suitable to change into. And something suitable is the last thing you find. All the other sleeping gowns you own were gifts from your late husband. Revealing, barely there slips of fabric that make it clear what the Reverend was after on your wedding night, and every night that followed. With little choice, you pick the one that seems to cover up the most skin; rich brown silk, soft and fitted to your form with a flowing skirt that kisses the ground.
As you nervously smooth your hands over the part of the gown that covers - and curves with - your thighs, you try to find solace in the fact that it’s not your intention to entice the vampire, of all things. But earlier wayward thoughts drift back to mind and you have to confess, only to yourself, that enticing Obispo would feel more safe than enticing the Reverend - and more appealing. Much more.
Obispo’s return is slower than you would imagine, given the astonishing speed he’d shown while entering and leaving the room. He knocks on the door and waits for your invitation before re-entering, then takes his time admiring your appearance as he returns to your side, a bucket in hand and a smile lighting up his face. “Preciosa indeed.”
You try not to show how affected you are by his compliment and remind yourself again of where your intentions should lie. It is a miracle that Obispo does not dwell on your flustering, instead continuing on with the plan.
“But for our story to be believable, we cannot have you bloodied and bruised. You shouldn’t have been this way in the first place - the bastard’s lucky he’s already dead.” With that gruffly said, Bishop sets the bucket down and picks up the old gown you left draped over the bed. The thick fabric tears like paper in his hands as he rips it into rags. Once done, he leaves all but one of the pieces of cloth to soak in the water within the pail. This one he dips into the water before ringing out the excess and holding it up in front of you. “May I?”
You are not sure why the act of him wiping away the splatter on you seems like crossing a line. Not after being in his arms, or having his hand on your lips, or his lips on your hand. Even still, his offer has words catching in your throat as something heavy and warm settles in your chest. All you can do is nod your assent and force yourself to breathe as he steps closer and once again takes gentle hold of your face.
The coldness of the water has you gasping and the goosebumps returning; has you flinching slightly but he holds you steady as he drags the cloth from above your brow to below your mouth, tilting your head from one side to the other until those intense eyes deem every spot of red to be gone. Then he’s guiding the cloth lower, down your neck to follow the curve of your shoulder to the lines of your arms.
The moments of his careful concentration on cleaning you stretch on for an eternity as you will your body’s reactions under control. Who would believe that simple brushes along your palms and between your fingers would spark lightning to lick beneath your skin?
It is both a blessing and a curse when Obispo finally cleans away the last drop, the effects of his touch both torture and bliss to endure. And your will must be weak because despite your efforts your nipples have risen to peaks, impossible to miss through the delicate silk. With those peaks comes another tide of embarrassment that threatens to drown you, just waiting for the moment Obispo notices to pull you under.
If he does notice, he makes no comment. Instead he steps back towards the bucket, and first lets the rag drop to the floor, then crouches down to wring out another rag and wipe his own hands clean. If he continues to focus on this well past the moment he is free of blood, you make no comment nor do more than silently wait for him to finish.
As Obispo rises his eyes drag up your body like a caress, decadent and indulgent, until they reach your face. Then with a deep inhale he closes his eyes and seems to temper himself. On the exhale his eyes open and his attention turns towards the cheek that the Reverend inflicted his fury upon. “Hmm, now to right this wrong.”
Caught within the heady air thickening between the two of you, you are not of the mind to wonder how he intends to mend the swelling that throbs the whole half of your face - not until he brandishes a dagger from a sheath at his side and cuts into his own palm.
You hardly manage to choke out "What-" through the sharp panic that cuts right through the air like a dagger of its own.
"Our blood is restorative - it quickens the healing of our own bodies and those of others. Drinking it will shorten the time of your recovery from weeks to seconds.”
His reasoning does little to calm you, especially not with his expectation for you to consume the crimson pooling within his cupped hand. Fevered forebodings from Reverend Michael shout through your memory; his voice proclaiming deception and corruption so clearly in your mind that it is as if he has risen from death to preach before you. Has Obispo’s kindness been a trick all along? Hiding his true motive of… of turning you into vampire, into a monster who would destroy your own people and-
Obispo calls your name, quieting the phantom haunting your thoughts. “Look,” he commands softly while extending his arm for you to examine his hand. Beyond the spoonful of blood, you do not understand what he wishes for you to see. It is as you prepare to tell him so that realization dawns. The wound that he slashed from his thumb to his littlest finger, the wound that should continue to be pouring blood, that should need sutures to be closed against infection, is gone. No angry red line or jagged scar left in its place. No sign that he was injured at all.
“It will heal you just the same, preciosa. Nothing more.”
I will not harm you.
He does not say it a third time but you hear the promise just the same. And you do not know how much more trust you have left to give. All of you feels ragged, frayed as if your threads have been pulled every which way and there is a fire prepared to singe any string you follow.
But a choice has to be made. There is no turning back, no undoing your decision to marry a man you hated or the manifestation of your hatred onto that man. You have to move forward, if not for your sake, then your family’s. Even if Obispo were not here, a choice would have to be made. And out of the strings before you, the one tied to him offers more than the one tied to the Reverend ever had.
Moving closer, taking Obispo’s wrist in one hand and his fingers in the other, you press your mouth to the side of his palm and tilt his hand so the blood pours into your mouth. There is no avoiding the flavor on your tongue. It tastes…
It tastes of the ripest berry and the richest wine. Of temptation itself. You wonder if this is the fruit the Church says led to the fall of man, though you cannot blame man after knowing how heavenly it flows down your throat. A mere mouthful is not enough, your tongue snaking out once and then again to lick all traces off his skin.
The need, the hunger is interrupted by a snarl, and the eyes that you do not remember closing open to see Obispo’s own entirely black, no brown or white in sight as he stares into you. Something within your gaze causes him to snarl again and your attention drops to his mouth where fangs have extended to dangerous points. Four fangs below his top lip and four above his bottom, they should be unnatural and grotesque to you. But it is awe that has your hand lifting to feel their edge for yourself.
Obispo grabs your wrist before your fingers can graze the points. “You’re in danger of being the one stolen away.” Even his voice has changed, deeper, darker.
Despite the warning and common sense, it is not fear that causes your heart to flutter. "Take me," you breathe out on a sigh.
Another snarl and he is across the room before you can blink. “Preciosa, that has no part in our plan.” There is another deep inhale, another moment of tempering. And this time when his eyes open they are the deep brown that have become familiar, the dangerous edge to his teeth gone. “Now that you are no longer hurt, let’s finish the concealment, shall we?”
Although “we” was mentioned, he does all the work, not allowing you to do more than keep an ear out for anyone approaching. Which becomes you watching him, fascinated with how he moves too quickly for your eyes to keep up with. There is just whirls of motion as he uses the rags to scrub the floor.
Though the spell over him seems to dissipate, the one over you holds fast. You feel almost drunk, giddy and inhibited, not in the least bothered over how you threw yourself on him while he was taking another form. While he was losing control because of you. The fingers that almost touched those fangs tingle with the desire to truly feel them.
The Obispo whirlwind ends with the water within the bucket looking of blood itself, and the golden cross gleaming in his hands. As he carries it back to its place on the pedestal on the dresser, you watch through the mirror as the cross seems to float back into position.
Last, he places the letter on the pillow where the Reverend would have laid. You are to read it in the morning and call the guards in grief stricken panic over your husband’s disappearance, a lie you will find great pleasure in telling.
It is unbelievable how in a matter of one night your fate has gone from dying in months time while giving birth to yet another of Reverend Michael’s stillborn children, to being executed within days for killing him, to inheriting his fortune by daybreak. And the last turn of events is all due to the kindness of the one once again standing in the balcony doorway.
Obispo holds all the signs of what truly transpired; the bucket of red tinged water and equally stained rags, and Reverend Michael himself. The clergyman is almost twice his size and yet Obispo had hoisted the dead weight over his shoulder as if the Reverend is as light as a feather.
Another wave of gratitude and awe crashes over you as you watch him study the room for anything out of place. You have nothing to give him for everything he has done, nothing besides a sincere expression of your appreciation, and so you go to him with the intention of placing a reverent kiss upon his hands. It is belatedly that you realize that said hands are full, and impulsively, you kiss his cheek instead. “Thank you.”
“It’s a debt repaid.” He kisses your cheek in return, then further closes the space between you to whisper a farewell in your ear. Your heart flutters again from the press of his lips, the promise in his words, and the way he pulls back to hold your gaze. With nothing more to say and yet so much unsaid, he turns to disappear into the night as quickly and as quietly as he appeared.
You stare off into the darkness beyond the balcony for a while, feeling dazed as if waking from a fevered dream. After finally closing the doors, you make your way to the bed but it seems to take a whole lifetime for you to succumb to sleep. Eventually exhaustion conquers the worry for what tomorrow will bring, the disbelief of what tonight had brought, the longing from his parting words echoing in your head.
“Until we meet again, preciosa.”
⇦ general masterlist ⋰ ⇦ sexy scary special 🔪 ⋰ part two: coming soon ⇨
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<< Chapter one | Chapter three>>
Contents: fem!reader x vampire!Shoto, suggestion of nudity
"Aaaand tilt your head back for me," Fuyumi said gently as she ran her fingers through your hair and poured warm water over it. There was a shuffling behind you as she stood up.
"Alright, I'll grab you a towel. I'll be back with you in a moment." She patted your head as she left the baths to retrieve a towel. You sighed comfortably as you glanced around the baths. You could feel the smooth, elegant tiles underneath yourself as well as the perfectly warm water that filled the large bath that you occupied. The soaps that Fuyumi had used left you dazed, the scent being perfectly floral without being overpowering.
"Alright, you can stand up now. I've got your towel." Fuyumi smiled as she walked back into the baths, her shoes clicking on the floors. You stood up and wrapped the towel around yourself. It was probably the softest thing you’d felt. Once you were dry Fuyumi strolled back to you, a simple yet beautiful gown in hand.
"I figured you'd be the type to prefer a more loose-fitting dress, better to move around in." The white-haired woman gave you a wink. You slid the fabric over yourself. Indeed it was easy to move in and quite comfortable too.
"Though I apologize, you cannot wear things like this all the time. You are an employee at the manner and we have special employee uniforms for donors." Her eyes lowered a bit before clapping her hands together.
"Let me show you around!" She linked an arm with you once more and guided you out of the baths.
"Now, you’ll have a maid do most tasks for you unless of course, you want to do them yourself then feel free to. But, they are always there if you need their assistance." The two of you had made your way back to the center of the mansion where the large entrance doors were. A chandelier hung high above you and the floor was made of gorgeous marble.
"Okay, from here to the left are the kitchens and the dining hall. To the right are the baths." She laughed.
"Which is where we just came from." She whispered.
"There is a library on the third floor, I'll take you there sometime...or...well- someone will take you at least. And up the stairs, we go." Fuyumi gently tugged your arm. Once on the second floor, the two of you headed down a corridor, elegant carpet muffling the sound of Fuyumi's shoes.
"There are a total of ten bed chambers in the mansion, not counting servants’ quarters. Oh, there is a ballroom. I'm sure you'll find yourself there eventually," Fuyumi explained. You passed by a few windows and kept your eyes glued to each one as they passed.
"I'll show you yours." Fuyumi's voice snapped you back into reality.
"My..?" Fuyumi has confused you.
"Your room, silly!" The snow haired woman giggled at you.
"Oh, right..." You trailed off. You didn't know quite how to feel.
"That's the first I've heard you speak! Well, all this is a lot. ..you've been through quite a bit in one day." Fuyumi's voice held sympathy. A nervous smile played onto your face.
"Here's your room," You stood in front of two large doors.
"I'll leave you be. You can rest for the remaining hours of the day. We’ll go over your requirements in the morning." The white-haired woman flashed you a toothy smile and waltzed off. You turned to look back at the doors, pressing your palms to the smooth wood before pushing the doors open. A cool waft of air blew onto you as you gazed into the room. You closed the doors and gaped at the luxurious room. Fine, airy, curtains waved in the wind of the open window which had a small balcony just outside it. The bed was large with a silk canopy hanging above it. Thin curtains tied to the bed posts, waiting to be closed as you slept. A wardrobe sat against a wall accompanied by a beautiful vanity. You made your way to the bed and sat down at the edge of it. The soft bed cushioned you and beckoned you to lay down. You obliged and fell back into the bed. A sigh of relief left your mouth as you sunk into it.
"So cozy..." you whispered. A small knock sounded from the doors. You sat up and quickly made your way to the door to open in.
"My lady, I hope you're settling well." A small girl gave you a small bow in respect.
"I am, thank you.” You smiled at her.
"I-I've brought you a clean gown to wear to bed." She held out the smooth fabrics. You took them from her with a 'thank you' and were left to yourself again. You’d slipped out of the dress gifted by Fuyumi and slid into the nightwear. Walking across the cool marble floor and to the glass door, you settled yourself outside on the balcony to watch the sun go down.
‘I'll have to write to my mother to tell her I arrived...with minor complications.’ You thought to yourself, a joking smile playing on your lips. A cool gentle breeze brushed your skin. You took a deep breath; the nice, cool, clean, air filled your lungs.
Night grew close and little stars peeked out of the sky. You walked back into the room and closed the window. With the silks curtains drawn, you slid under the covers. In a short time the room had grown on you. There was a certain air about it. A calming melancholy aura seemed to float around the room and lulled you to sleep.
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eau de sang-- chapter ten
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader
Warnings: canon-typical violence, brief mention of Emily's assault (nothing graphic).
Author's note: this one went from being the shortest chapter planned to the longest written, so hold your hats, friends. and please let me know what you think of the chapter! ya girl needs the serotonin lmao.
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“You seem to have found yourself in quite the predicament, Agent Prentiss,” the tallest one with brown curls bouncing around his chin said as he took three steps forward from the formation, trailing a pale, cold finger first along Emily’s shoulder and then onto yours. The tone of his voice carried a familiarity like he was speaking with an old friend. Dark eyes looked you up and down before Emily yanked your arm so that you were standing further behind her.
“Don’t touch her,” Emily gritted out between clenched teeth, her grip on you strong and bruising.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet, Mateo,” said the one seemingly in charge, flaring the nostrils on his pointed nose. “She doesn’t like it when you touch her pet.”
Mateo reached to touch your arm once more and Emily growled an actual, visceral growl, causing him to recoil with a smirk. A gasp was heard from behind you, undoubtedly JJ’s as her fear started to take hold.
“Oh, I see,” the tall man replied vaguely, stepping back into formation to stand next to the average-sized man with long, brown hair tied at the nape of his neck to whom he looked very similar. The two men could have been brothers, the taller very obviously the younger.
With long, purposeful strides, the man with perfectly coiffed hair stepped away from the formation to walk into the circle of profilers, sniffing decadently at each of them, groaning when stopped in front of Hotch.
“I do love the smell of an alpha male in fear,” he said, reaching out his hand to shake, baring his teeth slightly when Hotch hesitated to extend his hand. “You must be Aaron Hotchner, yes?”
Hotch nodded tersely.
“I’m Stavros, a pleasure to meet you,” he said, a Greek accent thick in his otherwise perfect English. “Has our dear Emily told you anything about who we are, seeing as how you were just conversing her… status?”
Spencer, unable to control his anxious rambling, spout off near immediately, making the powerful vampire turn his head sharply while still grasping Hotch’s hand.
“I am assuming that you must be the powerful, ancient vampire government—”
Spencer was immediately cut off by the short, blonde man who had stood next to Stavros in the formation.
“i Superiori," the blonde man spat in Greek-accented Italian. Anger seemed to hang from him, dark, sinister, and resentful.
“Patience, Kal,” Stavros chided the smaller man, who only responded with a huff. “These mere mortals would have no knowledge of the disrespect carried by denial of our title.”
Stavros turned to face Emily once more.
“You, however, seem to be skating on thin ice, Miss Prentiss. You of all people should know the necessity behind paying the respect due, hmm?” Stavros continued, standing close enough to Emily that the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Her stare bore holes into the taller man, teeth clenched, and lips pursed together as she held back the quip on her tongue.
“Yes, Miss Prentiss, shouldn’t you know better than to share our secret, no?” the man with long hair said, his Italian accent thick. “But I suppose that you were never one for following the rules.”
“I followed all of your fucking rules, Andreas. You and I both know that,” Emily responded, venomous and warning.
“Regardless, we are now standing amongst 6 humans who should not be privy to our world, to our lifestyle, and that certainly will not do,” Stavros said, scanning the group once more.
You took the time to look at everyone, too. JJ stood hidden behind Derek, gripping at his arm as she trembled and he stood stock-still. Spencer was leaning heavily against a desk, his body seemingly unable to hold him up any longer. Hotch and Rossi were stoic, jaws set and chests puffed in a vain attempt to intimidate. You had never seen the team so afraid, not even in front of the worst serial killers you had taken down.
“And as you know, Emily,” Stavros started, emphasizing the use of her first name like it was a weapon to cut deep into her psyche, “we have two options here.”
Emily sucked in a breath and you leaned heavily into her side, hoping the contact would bring her comfort though you were just as afraid as she was.
“We can either get rid of all of you for knowing our secret, though not here and now,” Kal, the shorter blonde, said as he wrung his knuckles. “You would be picked off one by one, untimely suicides, freak car accidents, unexplainable fatal illness until no human who knew our secret remained.”
“Or, you can contract yourselves to work for us,” said Andreas, his ponytail swishing behind him as he spoke.
“As I am sure that you know, humans were not intended to investigate this case. We had been so diligent in keeping it out of your filthy little hands until your media liaison, Jennifer, is it?—” he glanced pointedly to JJ, proving that they knew all of your identities—“had a little friend get a little too interested. It’s been a while since you’ve heard from him, no?”
You could hear JJ gulp from across the room, the underlying meaning in the man’s words abundantly clear. Tears shone in her eyes and you felt your heart clench.
“It is not lost on us that your team was the reason that this case was solved, that we finally were able to find Roger Drexel and put an end to his reign of terror,” Andreas continued after a moment of pause to torment JJ. “With this profiling team contracted to work part-time on the most complicated of our American cases, we will be more effective in protecting both ourselves and the rest of you humans.”
The team started to look amongst each other, frantic eye contact telling of what everyone was thinking. I’m not ready to die. Emily moved her arm so that she could wrap herself around you, both protective and comforting in her efforts.
“I do not think that we can kill this entire team," Mateo said from his place in the formation, hands clasped in front of his belt buckle as he shook his jaw-length hair away from his face. There was an underlying understanding in his words as if he knew something that you and the rest of the team didn't.
“I am aware, Mateo,” Stavros said, “But I also know who it is who makes the laws and who is allowed to break them.”
“You can’t make us work for you, Stavros,” Emily returned. “I will not work on a human-hybrid team again and you know that. You cannot force these humans to work for you, you cannot make them agree to fight battles that they cannot win.”
“Who said anything about humans fighting any battles?” Andreas asked patronizingly. “We will not be putting human life on the line for our own investigation. You would simply be aiding us in investigation so that we can close more cases.”
A shiver ran down your spine as the man spoke, a niggling in the back of your mind saying that he wasn’t telling the truth.
Hotch locked eyes with Emily, pleading with him silently. Your leader nodded once, understanding what she needed.
“This is a decision that is over my head, I cannot sign off on this,” Hotch said, looking directly at Stavros as he spoke. “I cannot, as a Unit Chief, authorize international liaising or the formation of a joint task force.”
Stavros clicked his tongue and gave a breathy laugh. “Listen, we will take care of that. How do you think we got Agent Strauss off your back so easily, hmm? I do not believe that a single security breach orchestrated by Penelope Garcia would be enough to send her back to Quantico, do you?”
You gulped, chiding yourself for not knowing it was too good to be true that Strauss had been pulled from the precinct so quickly after you and Penelope had placed your plan into motion.
"How do you think this man's treachery has been kept from the human government for so long? We need you and have the connections necessary to make it happen," Stavros finished, a wicked smile growing on his face. He had you right where he wanted you and he knew it. There was no fixing this.
Surprisingly, the next person to speak was Derek, saying, “We don’t have much of a choice here, Hotch. JJ has a baby at home, you have Jack. We gotta take it.”
Emily’s body tensed next to you and you tried to rub soothing circles onto her back. You had no clue what had happened in Emily’s past that made her so adverse to working with the vampire government, i Superiori, but you knew that whatever happened must not have been good.
Hotch gave one solemn nod as Stavros looked to him once more, unable to bring himself to give more assent.
“Ah, spectacular,” Stavros cried giddily, clapping his hands together twice. “We will get this worked up and paperwork will be on your desk by the time that you land back in DC.”
As quickly as they came, they all turned on their heels and left, Stavros at the point of the diamond, Andreas and Kal following behind, and Mateo in the rear. The latter, for just one moment, looked back at Emily, expression seemingly unreadable though it made Emily tighten her grip on you and suck a breath between her teeth. As the doors to the precinct clanked closed once more, a collective sigh of relief was released amongst the team, though none of you felt much better about anything except that you would live to see another day.
On the jet, the atmosphere was tense and silent. You were curled up with a blanket around your shoulders and leaning on Emily so that her cool skin was pressed against your aching ribs. Her unoccupied fingers were pulling soothingly through your hair and a low harmony to the song playing in her headphones was hummed between her closed lips. Anxiety was settled beneath your skin and it made you feel squirmy, something Emily immediately noticed. She popped out her headphones, twirling the wire around the mp3 player in her pocket before smoothing her hand over your skin.
“Are you okay, love? Are you in pain?” Emily asked, genuine concern etched on her features.
You sat up a little straighter, holding Emily’s hand so that you wouldn’t lose the connection you needed in that moment.
“I’m just anxious and upset about everything. I’m afraid of what’s going to happen next.”
Emily knew immediately that if you were being so open about your fears that they must be really bothering you, that you must be more afraid than you were letting on.
“I know, I am, too. I don’t know what they want from us,” Emily replied.
“For us to solve their crimes for them?” Spencer chimed in from across the table.
“You can’t honestly believe that’s all they want,” Derek chimed in from the couch adjacent to where you were sitting.
“Until they give me reason to think otherwise, yeah, I’m gonna believe what they say,” Spencer returned, an uncharacteristically obvious display of naivete.
“There are too many variables at play here for us to be taking this all at face value, pretty boy. You’re a better profiler than that,” Derek returned, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief.
“It’s not that I’m not considering all the aspects, Derek. It’s that this thing is so much bigger than any of us and if I let my brain start running the god damn computations of our survival, there is a good chance that none of us will like what I find,” Spencer nearly shrieked back, his voice elevating with every word until his face flushed a dark pink, the syllables starting to stutter from his lips into near incomprehension as his fear violently took hold.
Derek crawled over the couch to sit next to Spencer, wrapping him in a deep, firm hug from behind, crossing muscular arms over the skinny man’s chest, attempting to halt the panic attack in its tracks. JJ, walking closer from where she had been pacing the jet’s small kitchen took one look at Spencer before stomping in her heeled boots to stand in front of you.
“Y/N, what the hell have you gotten us into?” JJ questioned, hands on her hips, eyes wide and vicious like she was out for blood.
You stuttered, unable to form words quickly or coherently to JJ’s attack. She was right, you did this, you were the reason that everyone was in danger.
“JJ, that’s enough. This isn’t her fault,” Emily said, coming to your defense.
“Yes, it is, Emily,” you said quietly from beside her. “I got them all in this mess.”
“No, you didn’t,” Emily countered back, though not giving more information.
“Oh, then who did tell all of us your little secret, Emily? Who made us sign ourselves away to god knows what kind of work just to make sure we aren’t the next photographs hung on the wall in the hallway!” JJ seethed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.
“That’s enough, Agent Jareau,” Hotch said from the back of the jet, his voice low and warning.
“Hotch, are you serious?” Derek said, still gripping at Reid who by now surely had fallen down the rabbit hole of calculating the chances of your survival and had his eyes squeezed shut. “Look at this team, look at how god damn afraid we all are. We are special agents for the FBI, we have been trained to show no fear, Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity. And now we are damn near on our knees because there are bloodsucking leeches with targets on our necks.”
“Derek, hold on,” Emily said, unwrapping herself from you so that she could lean forward and place a chilled palm onto Spencer, successfully getting him to open his eyes and slow his breathing. “They aren’t going to kill you, not now. They have you right where they want you.”
“What do you mean, Prentiss?” Hotch said, eyebrow quirked.
Before Emily could respond, Spencer started to speak again, markedly calmer as he slithered himself ungracefully out of Derek’s embrace.
"When taunting us, the young-looking one, Mateo, said that they couldn't kill the entire team. Stavros, the leader, agreed and played it off as to pertaining to the laws, continuing his threat of being able to 'break the laws' but there was something off in the way his face contorted, it was as if he was relieved. Almost like a plan was coming together," Spencer said, his demeanor changing as he began to understand what could have been happening.
“So you think they planned for us all to find out about Emily being a vampire?” Rossi asked, speaking up for the first time in the conversation.
“Hotch, if I may?” Emily asked, sitting back in her chair and taking your hand.
Hotch nodded and Rossi moved seats so that everyone was sitting as if a case was being debriefed on the plane.
“I can almost guarantee that the second JJ got ahold of this case that they knew. Until we were brought on the case, evidence was being tampered with, right?” Emily asked, waiting to see your coworkers nod before continuing. “But as soon as we got close, as soon as we were on Drexel’s tail, all of the evidence and leads were just falling into our laps.”
“But the lead we were given wasn’t a good one,” Spencer said, crossing his hands over his chest.
“No, but the lead drew you away from his final destination, leaving only me and Y/N within reach for the execution of his final plan,” Emily replied. “They practically fed Y/N to him, which led to the series of events that resulted in me being arrested and you know the rest. And how did the entire team leave that crime scene thinking that Drexel was dead when he was still yelling threats and taunting Y/N and me when we were loaded into the ambulance? Who came to pick him up and take him to god knows where so that this case could be closed quietly as we fly back to DC?”
“So what exactly are you saying?” Hotch said, holding himself still despite the rocking of the jet.
“What I’m saying is that I don’t think that any of this is as simple as they made it seem. They have an agenda but for now, we are safe. For now, we need to just lay low, do as they say, and try not to get ourselves into a worse mess, okay? We will figure this out.” Emily said, unease written on her features but the conviction in her voice was reassuring.
When the plane landed just a few hours later, the team immediately entered the bullpen to Penelope pacing back and forth in front of the conference.
“There you are, my lovely crime fighters! I am afraid there has been a delivery by a very scary man wearing all black,” she said, her cheery undertones fighting against a wobble in her voice threatening to betray the fact that she, too, had been threatened by i Supieriori in your time away.
The group of you all piled into the conference room single-file, go-bags still slung over your shoulders. In the front stood an unfamiliar man, silent but threatening. On the conference table in neat piles were 8 copies of the same contract, one placed in front of each rolling chair. Taking your normal seats, you between Emily and Penelope, each of you simply staring at the papers, almost as if you touched them, your skin would turn ashen black, frozen and dead from a below-freezing chill.
“Read and sign, please,” the man said from the front of the room, monotone and disinterested. When none of you moved to even read the contract, the click of a remote sounded into the silent air and the screen in the front of the room illuminated with headlines from the past case, a stark reminder of the way that even if your disappearance made the news, the powers that be were influential enough that with just a week’s time, no one would remember your name.
It only took about 20 minutes for all of you to read each of the contracts. Inside detailed non-disclosure agreements, vague job descriptions that left more room for wiggle than a 7-year-old’s baby teeth, and the details of a mandatory trip to Rome.
“Wait, why do we need to go to Rome?” Rossi asked before signing the final sheet of paper.
“If you are going to be investigating crimes within the vampire community, you must be educated on laws, cultures, behaviors, and biology,” Emily said from her seat, still flipping through her files. “It won’t take long, they will give a three-day seminar and expect you to digest all of the information before sending you home and wishing for the best."
“Have you done this before, Princess?” Derek asked from his seat, Emily only glaring at him in response. It was a look as if to say keep your head on your shoulders.
“If you are done with the contracts I will take them now, please,” the strangely bland man said, holding out a single palm in expectation. Within just a few minutes, the entire team had signed their life over to the hands of vampires with an unknown agenda and you couldn’t have felt worse about it.
No one on the team could look at you and Emily, not even Hotch. Guilt and anxiety took an overwhelming hold over your body, weighing on your chest and sucking your tongue between your back teeth as you tightly held yourself together.
“Emily, will you take me home?”
Instead of taking you to your own apartment, Emily simply drove back to her own, the both of you were greeted immediately by a very cuddly Sergio. You bent at the knees to scratch at the cat's chin before picking him up. With him clutched tightly to your chest, cradled like an infant, you put your nose in his fur and let the soft hairs tickle at the skin of your face. A soft meow rumbled in his chest, demanding more chest scratches.
While you moved to the couch to sit with the feline, Emily made quick work of cooking some soup and brought it to where you were sitting. It felt strange when she only brought one bowl and spoon, the knowledge that Emily was a vampire still processing in your mind. You only had about 24 hours of a head start on knowing her secret than the rest of the team and now that the panic and chaos of the case was over, it was overwhelming.
Emily noticed your unease nearly immediately, opting to set the bowl on the coffee table to cool and place her hand on your shoulder.
“Are you feeling okay?” Emily asked, unsure of what to say to help you feel better.
Her question was met with silence while your mind ran through all the things you wanted to say, of all the questions you wanted to ask, and the answers you needed to hear.
“Are you going to eat with me?” was the only question that managed to fall from your lips, seemingly the least pressing of any of the issues that were caught on your tongue.
“No, I’m not,” Emily replied, not giving much by way of explanation. Her distrust was an old habit, one formed long before Roger Drexel assaulted her and forced her into a life she never consented to live, a deep secrecy she never would have chosen for herself.
You felt silly asking these questions as if you didn’t already know the answer. She’s a vampire, she didn’t need to eat food.
“Because I don’t have enough energy to digest human food right now,” Emily responded, not what you were expecting to hear.
“Huh?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“I actually can and do get a lot of my nutrition from eating human food. My body still needs to function like yours does for the most part. But without enough blood in my system, my body can’t break down and digest human food. It would just sit in my stomach until it started to rot and I don’t think either of us is ready for that smell.”
Emily chuckled a little to herself, trying to bring levity to the situation you had found yourselves in. You laughed a little, too.
“Do you…” you started, trailing off a bit, unsure if you wanted the answer to the question in your head.
Emily, almost as if she could read your mind, nodded her head solemnly, almost as if she was ashamed of what she was going to say.
“Yeah, I keep blood bags in the freezer for emergencies. It’s not ideal but it gets the job done.”
“Where do you get blood from ideally?”
Again, you weren’t sure that you wanted the answer, wincing slightly thinking about the fact that your girlfriend probably, most likely was a murderer.
“Not the way you’d think, honey,” Emily said, immediately attempting to soothe your discomfort and worry. You looked at her with wide eyes, communicating that this was something that you needed to know.
“It comes from a variety of places. Some more ethical than others. I usually get it from this blood donation service like Red Cross.”
“So you steal blood from people who are sick and need it?” you responded, not feeling great about her response.
“No, not exactly,” Emily continued, rubbing at the back of her neck and licking her lips. “The service itself is marketed to humans as blood donation for ‘those who need it’.”
Emily used air quotes to emphasize the deception.
“It’s a service that was set up by i Superiori to both minimize the amount of killing that we had to do and to ensure that any vampire with a conscience still had a reputable tie to the organization. The donation trucks usually do their rounds in upper-class suburban neighborhoods where the people will do anything to look like they’re morally superior to the others. They don’t care about where the blood is going, all they care about is their photo opportunity and proof of charity for their next social event.”
“And they really don’t ask any questions?” you asked, perplexed by the idea alone. There was no way that entire communities of people would let unregistered blood donation trucks take from them.
“The vampire government, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, has a lot of pull in very high places. Registration with local authorities, permits for donation events, any roadblock you can name, they’ve got someone on the inside to pull strings. If it wasn’t so unnerving, it would be impressive the sheer amount of reach that they have.”
“So you don’t sneak off and go kill people a couple times a week?” you asked, smirking a little, trying to bring yourself out of the funk you had found yourself in.
“No, not at all,” Emily replied, pressing her lips together in a hesitant grin.
Finally feeling more secure, you let Sergio out of your arms, no longer needing the comforting weight or protective barrier between you and Emily.
“I-I understand if you don’t want to continue to pursue a relationship with me. This isn’t what you signed up for and I deceived you about who I was from the very beginning,” Emily said, wrapping her arms around herself like you had seen her do once before to comfort herself.
You scooted forward on the couch, bringing your hands to her arms in an attempt to free them.
“Em,” you said, running your thumbs soothingly against the skin of her hands as you held her warmly. “I understand why you didn’t tell me sooner.”
Emily looked at you quizzically, as if she couldn’t comprehend your compassion or empathy for the situation.
“I’ve put you and our entire team in danger,” she replied, dropping her gaze once more to her lap.
“If you won’t let me take the blame for this, I’m not going to let you, either,” you said sternly, using the side of your curled forefinger to raise her chin. “And if you’ll let me, there is no place I would rather be than here, in your arms. It feels right to be here, I feel like I belong with you, Emily.”
Relief flooded Emily’s posture, her shoulders loosening and jaw unclenching.
“How?” she asked, softly and uncharacteristically unsure of herself.
You scanned her face, trying to ascertain as to whether or not staying with you was something she wanted, too.
“Because, sweet girl, you’ve been nothing but an absolute gift to my life. You bring me joy and comfort. You protect me, you heal me, you prioritize me and you add a layer of intrigue to my life that I had never experienced before.”
The words falling from your lips were sincere and, if you dared to label it as such, loving.
“Albeit, the intrigue is a bit more dangerous than I probably would have asked for, I know that this wasn’t your intention. I know that you would never want to bring me harm. And I know deep in my soul that the Emily Prentiss that I have gotten to know, the Emily Prentiss that I am falling for will do everything in her power to keep me safe, right?”
Emily nodded her head and finally looked at you from her own volition.
“I will never let anyone hurt you,” she said, her voice unsteady at the thought of losing you.
“Then that’s all I need from you, love. And for you to let me protect your heart, to support you, to care for and cherish you in return.”
Emily nodded her head again, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. Without much thought, you pulled at her arms, wrapping them around your torso before threading your hands in the hair at the nape of her neck and pressing your nose into her shoulder. The embrace made your ribs ache, a stark reminder of just how different your life was three days prior. As you pulled back, you felt the tears you had been holding back begin to fall down your face: tears of regret, guilt, fear, of relief, all of it. Emily unwound one of her hands so that she could wipe at your cheeks and cup your jaw.
“We’re going to get through this,” Emily said.
“Yes, baby, we are. We will figure this out, we will be okay,” you replied before using a thumb to rub at her bottom lip.
That was all the invitation she needed to lean forward and capture your mouth in a tender, sweet kiss. She needed to feel you, to feel your warmth, your livelihood. You were sitting in front of her, you were breathing, you were alive. Contracts be damned, threats be damned, you knew that so long as you had Emily, you would be safe. Trips to Rome and complicated cases could be something you worried about tomorrow.
Tonight, you would wrap yourself around Emily and not let her go, feeding each other and nurturing each other in a way that only lovers could. There was no winding road for you to travel, no evil beasts to defeat. Tonight, simply, there was love.
taglist: @morcias // @ssa-sapphic // @demisicle // @prentisspoppet // @ssajemilyprentiss // @alexbllake // @prentissology // @agcntemily // @temilyrights // @none2434 // @illbeyourgg // @5raysofsunshine // @sapphic-stress // @iminluvwithpenemily // @simmonsmilf // @captainchilly // @storiesofsvu // @mariahv1677 // @brilliantbimbo // @thorfemmes
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No beard but EHHHH its very nice >;)
[ disclaimer: any art used is not mine and I do not take credit for the art I post on this acc. They belong to their respected owners! ]
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Panels that always make me think about vampire DFO aus once again 😩👌✨
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this is a gift (it comes with a price)
a vampire au for @halloweenie-event 2021 🦇
Vampire!MJ/ Immortal!Peter | 3 parts | rated E
“Okay, I don’t know what your deal is, Ma’am,” he stands tall, just about her exact height, “but if you hurt that man--”
“Oh, come on,” Michelle scoffs, “if I was actually hurting anyone, it wouldn’t have taken me a month to get your attention.”
“I-- Excuse me?” Spider-Man balks, obviously taken aback, obviously a little intrigued too if her intuition is at all accurate. And it usually is. “What do you mean, get my attention?”
“I mean, I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Michelle explains. “But you make it awfully difficult for a gal to have a conversation.”
OR: MJ's a vampire, Peter can't quite die, and New York can be a big place when you're all alone.
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Heart got teeth
Daniel LaRusso x Johnny Lawrence
Vampire au / song lyric moodboard
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Sanguis Sanguinis Mei | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 4)
MY MASTERLIST || NAYNAY’S MASTERLIST
Summary: A whole decade after James left the clan, Y/N goes after him in hopes of bringing him back home.
Word Count: 1142
Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Vampire!Reader, Vampire!Natasha Romanoff x Hunter!Steve Rogers
A/N: This fic is a collaboration between @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend and myself, and we decided to write a Vampire AU in honour of Halloween. I’m really excited to share this with you all, because Naynay and I enjoyed writing this so much. Divider credit to @whimsicalrogers!
Those two words had imprinted themselves in Y/N’s mind ever since Natasha had uttered them to her ten years ago.
“What do you mean he’s gone? That’s not possible. He’s- he can’t be. You said the healers could save him!” she cried.
“They did. He’s alive. He made a full recovery. But once he was back on his feet he took off.”
“He took off? Without saying anything?” Her hand reached up to touch the necklace he’d given her just before this all started.
“He said he was sorry. And he asked me to give you this.” Natasha pulled the item from her pocket and offered it to Y/N.
She stared down at the familiar ring before looking back to her sire. “Why?”
“He didn’t say. But my guess is that he wants you to take his place.” The older woman noted.
“But that should be you. He’s your sire. You were his second in command.” While a part of her could not believe that James would ever want her to take his place, she knew that Natasha deserved that honour more than anyone else.
“And I like it that way. I work best in the shadows. You’re better suited for taking over the empire.” Natasha kept her other assumption to herself. It wouldn’t be helpful to share it with Bucky on the run.
“Do you think he’ll come back?” Y/N wondered.
“Eventually. Forever is a long time.”
There was a sigh that escaped her lips upon hearing her sire’s words. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
Y/N toyed with the signet ring, changing it from one hand to the other, as she sat in the back of the cab on her way from Indianapolis to Shelbyville.
“This is it,” the cab driver announced as he pulled up to the estate. “Would you like me to wait for you, Miss?”
“That won’t be necessary. Thank you so much.” She handed over a wad of bills, more than enough to cover her fare and a generous tip. Stepping out of the cab, she smoothed the front of her red and black dress before fluffing her skirt slightly. Her stride was confident as she approached the gate.
A tall man in a dark black suit and even darker hair stepped out of a gatehouse. A witch - she could smell the magic on him.
“Good morning, Miss. How can I help you?” He inquired, his manner quite formal.
“I have an appointment with Mr. Barnes this morning.” Y/N replied.
“I’m quite sure that Mr. Barnes does not have any appointments scheduled today.” He stated, his eyebrow raised at this strange woman.
“It seems you’re mistaken, Mr. Laufeyson.”
“I don’t believe I am. I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Miss.” His eyes were stern at the intruder, though he did not get defensive at that moment.
The phone in the gatehouse rang before he could lay hands on her to escort her off the property. Probably the best for him - doing magic one handed is so troublesome.
Y/N used his distraction to blur past the gate and into the estate. She stopped short just inside the door, James’ scent overwhelming her. She sniffed carefully and picked the freshest scent and followed it to an office on the second floor.
The door was open just a crack and she slipped inside silently. All she could see was the back of his chair, but she knew he’d sensed her presence.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding. You need better security.” She sank down into the chair waiting for him to turn around. “Not even going to look at me after I came all this way?”
A long sigh escaped him as he turned his chair.
Her heart thudded in her chest at the sight of him. The last time she had seen him he’d been lying on a hospital cot burning through a synthetic poison.
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He inquired.
“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop by.” She quipped.
“Try that again.”
“I’ve come to bring you home. Your clan needs you.” She reminded him.
“Natasha and Steve are on their honeymoon in god knows where, and you are doing just fine on your own. As I knew you would. My clan is better off without me.” Bucky pointed out.
“What are you talking about?”
“I nearly wiped out my clan, Y/N. I nearly killed all three of you. And I would have if it weren’t for your… quick thinking.” His voice was calm. Resigned.
“That wasn’t you, James. You were poisoned. You didn’t have control.” She tried to reason with him.
“Precisely. I underestimated my opponent. I lost control and became the very monster I always feared I would be. And it nearly cost your life. It’s not a mistake I’ll make again.” He sighed.
“James, please. Come home with me.” Y/N practically begged him.
Bucky’s grip on his chair tightened and his jaw ticked as he warred within himself. “I don’t have a home, Y/N. Not with you.”
Y/N gasped, her heart fracturing at his words.
“Well, in that case.” She reached up to unclasp the necklace, but he stopped her grabbing her hand.
She looked up to him, hope blooming for just a moment.
“I told you when I gave you the necklace. There was no one else I could imagine giving it to. It’s yours. Something to remember me by,” he added.
The hope dissipated like smoke.
“I guess that’s that then.” She slipped the ring off her finger but his hand closed around hers once again.
“You have earned the right to lead. You are the leader of this clan. It is yours by blood rite.” He insisted.
“Why?” she couldn’t help the question that slipped out.
“You are meant to rule. I knew it the moment I met you. It’s a shame I won’t be there to see it.”
Fury sparked deep within Y/N. “You could be,” she hissed, eyes glowing red. “You’re choosing not to be out of some bullheaded attempt to what? Save face?”
“I’m choosing this to protect you,” he argued back, trying to keep his temper in check.
“I can protect myself, James. Even from you. You’re just being a coward. So much for the brave Sir James,” she said his title in a breathy tone before scoffing. “Maybe you’re right. The clan does need a stronger leader. One who won’t abandon them at the first sign of trouble.”
“Have a nice eternity, Bucky. Clan Barnes is in good hands.” With that she stormed out of the office before he could utter a word. That didn’t go to plan.
Groaning, Bucky slammed his head against the desk. “How could I be so stupid?”
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I just got this beautiful ych commission *sobs*
its done by ֆʊʀɨ on twitter
>>link to the original<<
I love it so much! ♥
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Love Bites, Part 6
Summary: Fourty-seven years ago, Y/N’s life ended after a chance encounter at a nightclub with her now vampire sire Hyunjin. The arrogant ex-prince has hated her since that night, blaming her for everything and has made it his goal for the rest of eternity to make sure she knows it.
Another chance encounter has her pining after a very human university student. She knows getting close to him will put his life at risk, but she can’t help but be drawn in by his sweet nature and adorable smile. What happens when her vengeful sire learns of her interest in the human boy? Can she save him or will Hyunjin ruin everything once again?
Characters: Vampire!Chan, Vampire!Minho, Vampire!Changbin, Vampire!Hyunjin, Vampire!Jisung, Vampire!Felix, Human!Seungmin, Human!Jeongin, Vampire!Reader
Pairing: Starts Hyunjin x reader, but endgame is Jeongin x reader
Warnings: Blood (it’s vampires so…), violence, Hyunjin is a major asshole, abuse, fighting, smut, unprotected sex, language.
“I love you.”
You stare at the man in bed next to you. You don’t love him. You don’t even like him. He was only there to fulfill a need. Nothing more.
“I know.” You roll over, sitting up and stretching.
“Fuck, you’re hot.”
You smirk at him over your shoulder before you grab your pants, slipping them on. “Thanks.”
He grabs your hand, drawing your attention. “Stay.”
“I can’t. You know that.”
His grip tightens. “Why not? You never stay.”
He tugs you back onto the bed, surprising you. “You always say it’s complicated. What’s the truth? There’s someone else, isn’t there? That’s why you never say it.” He climbs over you, pinning you to the bed. “You’ve never loved me because you love someone else! All you’ve ever done is used me!”
You push him off of you, sending him across the room. He hits the wall with a thud, dropping to the floor. You speed over to him, pinning him to the floor with your hand around his throat. He stares up at you in shock, gasping as you tighten your grip.
“You’re right. I don’t love you. You’ve never been anything more than a dick to sit on when I want it. And there is someone else. There’s been many others and there will be plenty after you.”
“You...bitch.” He gasps out.
You bare your fangs at him. The last thing you see is his terrified eyes before you drain the life from him. You fall back against the wall, staring at his dead body. Emotions begin to roil, and you pick up his body, barely making it back to the house in time. You stumble down to the furnace, tossing him in before turning it on.
You sink to the floor next to the furnace doors, leaning back against the rock wall. His wife will be home soon. She’ll find him missing and call the police. You had been careful but...if anyone saw you together...
The basement door opens, Felix coming down the stairs. He kneels in front of you, pulling your hands from your face.
“I messed up.” You say. “I really messed up this time.”
“It’s okay. We’ll take care of it. We always do.”
“What’s all this?” You ask as Jeongin closes the door.
His bed is covered in rose petals, candles lit and set around the room. The lights are dimmed, and there’s quiet music playing.
“I’m ready.” He says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “I want to do this.”
You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “You’re sure?”
He leans forward, kissing you hard. You can smell the arousal coming off him already, threatening to pull you in as well. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
You kiss him again, pulling him closer. “If you change your mind...we can stop. Whenever.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be saying that to you?”
You smile, cupping his face. “It’s your first time. I want you to be comfortable. Not pressured into doing this.”
“I’m the one who called you over here, remember?” He says.
“I know. I just want to make sure.”
He bends down, grabbing the backs of your thighs before lifting you up into his arms. You’ve never been so happy about him working out before now, holding onto him as he carries you to the bed. He lays you down gently, kneeling over you.
“I’m sure.” He says, looking down at you with dark eyes. “I’m very sure.”
You’re at a loss for words, looking up at him in the low light. You can see him perfectly with your enhanced eyesight made for seeing in the dark. You find him the most beautiful in this light. The way the candlelight makes his skin glow, the lust-blown look in his eyes. He’s beautiful in any light, but this is becoming your new favorite.
You sit up, running your hands under his shirt. His skin is warm, even against your warmed skin from the blood you had drank last night. You push his shirt up, fingers feeling every ridge of his muscles. He pulls his shirt over your head and you bite your lip as you take him in. He’s all smooth skin and muscle, and you’re unable to stop yourself from sitting up and putting your hands on him. His own hands lower to your hips, his fingers teasing the band of skin below the hem of your shirt.
“Take it off me.” You say, looking up at him.
He slowly lifts your shirt, tossing it to the floor. He stares at you and your lacy pink bra. You’re glad you wore it, though you’re upset that your panties don’t match. If you had known, you would have prepared better. But he had sprung this one on you entirely.
You kiss him again, pulling him down to meet your lips. He’s eager, slipping his tongue into your mouth immediately. You can’t help but smile a bit at how sweet he is, feeling a bit like you’re corrupting him.
You reach back, undoing your bra, tossing it to the floor. He pulls away from you, staring down at you with wide eyes.
“You can touch me...if you want.” You say, noticing the slight nervous tremble to his hands. You grab one of his wrists, placing his hand on your breast. “Right here.”
You lean back as he touches your breast, squeezing it gently. He cups the other one in his free hand, lips slightly parted. You gasp as he brushes your nipple, making him look up at you.
“Do that again.” You instruct, holding onto his wrist as he flicks your nipple.
You let your head fall back as he touches you, enjoying the gentleness of his hands. Normally you wouldn’t prefer a soft touch. You liked to hurt. Softness made it easy to grow feelings. You didn’t want feelings with the people you used for your own pleasure. But with Jeongin, the feelings had come first before the desire. You wanted to be soft with him. You wanted to take your time, let him explore your body. You didn’t just want to fuck him. You wanted to make love to him.
He kisses you again, hands gently massaging your breasts. Your panties are soaked just from being close to him, breathing in his own desire. There’s a noticeable bulge in the front of his jeans, something he’s not bothering to hide this time.
His lips trail down your neck, teeth scraping against your skin. You moan softly, ready to pull him away if he bites you. You couldn’t let him taste any of your blood. Not that you’re thinking he’d even try to do that. But just in case.
His mouth continues down your chest, until he’s replacing his fingers with his mouth. You gasp in surprise as he sucks at your nipple, tilting your head to watch him.
He pulls away for a moment, smirking up at your surprised face. “What? I’ve watched porn.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Of course you have. I knew you weren’t that innocent.”
He smirks, leaning back down to suck at your nipples. You run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the sensation of his hands and his mouth on your body. You had spent many days in the last few weeks picturing this moment. What he would feel like over you, touching you. When he had finally kissed you, you had imagined over and over what his lips would feel like on your body. You wanted them everywhere, you wanted him everywhere.
“Fuck.” You moan, your panties continuing to dampen. “I need you to touch me.” You breathe, the scent of your mixed arousals going to your head.
“I am touching you.” He says.
You roll your eyes. “Still can’t avoid being snarky even in bed.”
He blushes a little, dimples showing as he smiles sheepishly. “No.”
You cup his cheek, lifting his face. “It’s cute. Don’t stop.”
He grins wider, eyes closing into slits. You can’t help the smile that forms in reaction to his own. You reach down, pulling your skirt and panties off in one go, letting your legs fall back open around him. He stares down at your pussy, mouth slightly open.
“Oh fuck.” He breathes, unable to look away.
“What, I thought you said you watched porn?” You say, teasing him.
“I have...but that’s porn. This is...you.”
You sit up, kissing him as your fingers work on the button of his jeans. “You’re sweet, Jeongin. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”
“You need to hang out with better people.” He says, nipping at your bottom lip as you palm him through his boxers.
“That’s why I have you.” You say, tugging his boxers down too.
He’s hard and leaking already, looking like he could blow at any moment. “I’m trying really hard.” He says, leaning over you.
You smile, cupping his face. “Hey. Even if you only last ten seconds, there’s other ways you can make me cum. This is about you.”
He nods. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” You say, taking his hand and placing his fingers against your slit. “I’m more than ready for this.”
He hisses as he feels your wetness against his fingers, more precum dripping from his tip. “Fuck, I’ve always wanted to try oral.”
You smile. “We can do that later. Right now you want to be inside me.”
He nods, reaching over to his nightstand to grab a condom. Not that it would have made much of a difference, but if it makes him more comfortable, you’d do anything. You scoot up against the pillows, pulling him closer. You wrap your hand around him, guiding him into you.
You both moan at the sensation, your arms wrapping around him to pull him against you. He slides into you all at once, the painful stretch making you grip him ever so tighter. He’s breathing heavy into your ear, leaning on his elbows to hold him up. You hold him, letting him adjust to the feeling. It’s heavenly for you, finally fulfilling your dream. You had wanted this so bad for so long and now you were getting it.
He slowly begins to thrust, trying to find his rhythm. You hold onto him, moving your own hips to help him. He’s thick enough you can feel the drag of him against your walls, stretching you as you tighten around him. It’s all too much, your own body getting close to cumming with the thought that you were finally getting to do this with the person you loved. The only person you’ve ever loved.
“Oh god.” He groans, lips brushing your ear. “I don’t know how much longer...”
“Don’t hold on.” You moan, hands going to his ass to move him harder into you. “Cum for me, Jeongin.”
It only takes a couple more thrusts before he’s a moaning mess, twitching as he cums into the condom. What you would give to feel him cumming inside you, but that was for later. His whole body shudders, hips stilling. You watch him in awe, falling more and more in love with him.
“What...about you?” He breathes, attempting to push himself up slightly.
“Here.” You help him up, taking his fingers and putting them on your clit. “Rub.”
He does as he’s told, circling his fingers around your clit. He’s still inside you, starting to get hard again as you clench around him. Your back arches as you get close, the sensation of his fingers getting to you. You never came this fast, but everything was different with Jeongin.
He falls forward, groaning with you as you cum, gripping his arms as you cry out his name. You both stay there for a few moments, Jeongin catching his breath. He’s slick with sweat, but you don’t care.
“Did you...did you cum twice?” You ask as he pulls out of you.
He nods, flushing. “Yeah.”
“That’s hot.” You say, pulling him close as he tosses the used condom into the trash.
He lays down on the bed, pulling you against his chest. You rest your head over his heart, listening to it beat in his chest. It’s your favorite sound, something you could spend the rest of eternity listening to, but you know that’s not possible. To spend eternity with you, he’d have to become a vampire. Lose all the human things you loved about him. You were gambling now, diving deeper and deeper into a dark hole you would have to reach the bottom of eventually. You can’t turn him. You can’t do that to him. But eventually you’ll have to leave.
“Stay.” He says, hand lacing with yours.
“We can keep the curtains closed. Lay in the closet. Whatever you need. Just...don’t leave me. Not this time.”
You sigh, feeling tears prick at your eyes. They always did this the first time. But this was different. You couldn’t cold shoulder him and walk out before the sun rose. This was Jeongin. You had just made love for the first time, his first time ever. You couldn’t just walk out and leave him.
“Fuck.” You breathe, sitting up. “It’s...Jeongin...”
“Hey,” He grabs your arm softly and you turn away from him quickly.
“I need to make a call.” You grab your phone from the floor, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over your head before you hurry out of the room to the bathroom.
You close the door, making sure it’s locked. You try to breathe, desperately wiping the bloody tears off your cheeks. You weren’t ready for this. You weren’t ready for it to fall apart. Not now. Not after this. It would break his heart and yours. You would never recover. You’d spend the rest of eternity thinking about this moment, regretting it. You can’t do that. Not to him. Not to yourself.
You calm yourself down, making sure there’s no blood on your face before you make your way back to his room. You sit down on his bed, chewing on your lip.
“I’m sorry.” You say, not wanting to look at him. “I just can’t risk it.”
You can practically feel the disappointment. You can smell it too. It kills you, but you know the risk is too great.
“I get it.” He says, wrapping an arm around you. “I just...want you to be honest with me.”
You could cry again. But instead you shove it down, pushing all those emotions away. “It’s...so complicated. I don’t know how to tell you without you thinking I’m crazy.”
“I would never think you’re crazy.” He cups your chin, lifting your face to look at him. “I love you, okay? I mean it. I just...want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I know. I love you too. So much it scares me sometimes. I just...can’t be out during the day. At all. I don’t know how to explain it in a way that you could understand. But I have to go home in a few hours, barricade myself in a house with covered windows and sleep until tomorrow night.”
He takes your hand, nodding. “Okay.”
“When things are better...we can talk about it. But not right now. I just want to spend the next few hours with you.”
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[ID: Digital comic of Lup as a vampire woman and Barry as a human man. Lup has a slight build, curly, blonde, hair, tan, freckled skin, and green eyes. She is wearing a form fitting, long sleeved gown with a v-neck. Barry has a chubby build with pale skin, and short, greying, dark brown hair. He is wearing glasses and a pale blue t-shirt. In the first panel, Lup asks Barry," And you're sure you're okay with me biting you?" Barry replies, "You bet! If it's safer for you in the long run, why not?" Second panel shows Lup standing close to Barry, her arm resting on his. She says, "It shouldn't hurt longer than a second, but if you start to feel dizzy or uncomfortable, just say stop, and I will, okay?" Barry replies, "Mmmhmm." Internally he is thinking, "Oh boy, I sure hope this doesn't awaken anything within me!" Last panel shows Lup leaning in to bite Barry's neck. He is red in the face, and thinking, "Too Late, Too Late! Too Late!" with distance screaming in the background. End ID]
The risk he took was calculated
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