#vampire fanfiction

[lakefu]

A Perfect Warmth 🕯️

Summary: Astarion and Tav take a well deserved break away form the chaos of their adventures at an inn inside Baldur's Gate. They need to clean up and get back on the road but they keep getting distracted. Perhaps plans could be delayed for a night of passion...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Tags: 18+, Explicit, fluffy smut, brief Astarion trauma response, PIV, erogenous elf ears, scent kink, blood + biting, a bit of praise, a bit of edging... a sprinkle of cockwarming...., these guys are in love...

Word count: 3.5k Note: This was my first fic originally uploaded on Ao3 on 11/27/23, inspired by the patch #4 dev note mentioning adding sponges to clean your companions. I've made edits from the Ao3 post.

“Remind me to sell this junk next time we pass by a merchant, would you dear?” Astarion was seated at the edge of the bed and rummaging through his traveler’s pack, placing various items on the nightstand for further examination. Two silver forks, an old necklace, and a handful of various polished stones ended up on the table before he plucked out an intricate sapphire ring and held it up to the sunlight peeking through the window.

“Good taste,” he muttered to himself. He placed the ring on his pinky finger in amusement and resumed the scavenge. 

“It’s going to get difficult sneaking up on people if I have to lug this heavy thing around you know.” He threw over a glance at Tav, who was preoccupied with gathering laundry together in preparation for the next day.

“It wouldn’t be so heavy if you didn’t pocket nearly every shiny thing we came across,” she teased, without even looking over at him.

He gasped dramatically. “Framed by my own lover? Quite the scandal. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the near dozen times you’ve asked me to hold onto your things because your own pack was too full.”

“Hmm. Maybe. I guess that might sound sort of familiar…” She giggled to herself and walked into the bedroom to catch his eye, meeting him with a mischievous grin. 

“Why are you such a- oh! Now, what’s this you’re wearing?” Astarion blinked and scanned her up and down, clearly enthralled by the wardrobe change. She stood there in an old linen robe that was yellowed with age, definitely unlike anything he had ever seen her in before.

“Just some old thing I found in the dresser here, isn’t it just fabulous?” Tav's words were dripping in sarcasm and yet she smiled, performing a grandiose little spin in the middle of the room as if she was wearing the most beautiful ball gown in the world.

“I… it’s just so different from your usual armor or that drow nightwear you fancy so much. You look so… domestic.” His eyes were locked onto Tav intensely, with brow furrowed as he seemed to be confused by his own words.

She felt her heart skip a beat and a flush run to her face.

“And you think that’s a good look for me?”

His eyes softened and he paused a moment before quietly answering.

“Yes… I do.”

Tav watched as his smile faded and the gaze of his eyes became increasingly more distant. The atmosphere seemed to shift and a slight panic ran through her body. Did she do something wrong? No... and it didn’t require a tadpole connection to get an understanding for what had brought down his spirits.

Astarion hadn’t considered a comfortable domestic life was possible for someone like him. Even the slightest concept of such a thing had been buried for over a hundred years, and he never expected it to resurface. Was he worthy of such a thing, and was it even possible? 

Oh, it was possible. The evidence was standing right in front of him, spinning circles in an ugly bathrobe. He could see glimpses of a happy future that was so close to being a reality he nearly felt nauseous. Not because he was unsure of himself, but because there were still too many unresolved matters they had a duty to attend to. Too many missions and stupid little quests that could now go wrong and threaten this idea of a happy ending he never even knew was possible.

Everything was different now that he realized what was possible, and he suddenly felt an unknown and uncomfortable pressure. All he knew was that he couldn’t afford to lose in the upcoming battles. Battles that some would say were impossible, suicidal even. The thought of loss at this point was beyond unbearable. It was sickening just to think about.

“Hey!!” Tav ran up to where he was sitting on the bed and took his head in her hands. She placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, knowing she had to get him focused on something else.

“Why don’t we go to the shop right now and get rid of that stuff,” she motioned to the collection of items that had been gathered on the nightstand.

“Wouldn’t hurt to get some more coin in our pockets, right?” She looked at him expectantly and felt a huge relief as a light seemed to return to his eye and meet her view.

“Please tell me you aren’t going to wear that horrid robe to see the merchant,” he sighed and looked up at her pleadingly.

“Of course not!! I’ll change and- oh gods!!! We’ve got to get this blood off your face, the merchant is going to think we are trying to kill him!” Tav exclaimed as she lightly shook his shoulders, and quickly began examining his body to see how much cleaning would have to get done before they could leave.

“Blood… on my face?” He raised an eyebrow and brought a finger to his cheek.

“Yeah!! Well, it’s all over you really, dontcha remember earlier today, fighting those cultists?? You sneaked up behind one of ‘em and BAM!!! Just obliterated with a single strike, it was amazing!! You’re so strong…you know.” Her pulse was racing at the mere memory of the event as she delicately traced the side of his face with her fingers and ventured down to his chest. 

“Ah of course. That was all so terribly easy I’d nearly forgotten,” he said proudly, adjusting his posture and keeping his eyes on Tav’s hand movements sliding across his chest. Her soft touch was becoming more firm as her fingers made their way toward his arms, giving his biceps a teasing squeeze before leaning her face into his and teasing a kiss.

Before their lips could touch, Astarion wags a finger in between their faces as if to remind Tav of the task at hand.

“Alright my sweet, let’s clean up shall we? You’re my mirror after all. So, go on then.” He took her hands into his own and gave them a kiss before placing them back at her side, encouraging her to go and gather whatever it was she needed to get him cleaned up.

Right, the supplies. It was nearly impossible to remain focused after moments of intimacy with him, no matter how brief they were. She quickly moved into the other room to acquire the washcloths and bucket of soapy water that she was using for herself not too long ago. Hands full, she scurried back to the bedroom to meet her lover, who hadn’t moved an inch.

As she approached him, Tav could feel the tie on her robe becoming increasingly more loose with each step that was taken across the floor. The embarrassment hit her as she realized she didn't have any hands free to do anything about it. She quickly tried to put the bucket down by the bedside, but the bending movement only resulted in the robe slipping off one of her shoulders, exposing a bare breast.

“Oh? You haven’t got anything on underneath?” Astarion cocked his head in amusement, eyes unmoving from the newly exposed skin.

“Ye-yeah that’s the whole point of robes isn’t it? I was doing laundry earlier ya know and umm,” She laughed nervously and started to fix the wardrobe malfunction but was quickly stopped by a hand over her own. Astarion reached out toward her until both hands were around her waist and pulled her in close to his body. Fangs were peeking through his devious smile while determined eyes looked her up and down. With a singular finger he crept over to the loose knot of the robe’s tie and flicked it completely undone with one swift movement.

Tav shuddered and felt her body starting to run warm despite now being suddenly exposed to the cool air of the inn. She was completely revealed to him now, the robe only just clinging to her arms and draped across her backside.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he sighed and began kissing her stomach and caressing the curves of her waist. “Come here.”

Tav gasped as she felt his cold grip around her waist tighten as he expertly lifted her up onto his lap with ease. Pleased at the new angle, Astarion shifted his attention to kissing the crook of her neck and started moving down her chest. He delightfully found her nipple with his mouth in no time, and teased it in circles with his tongue just as he knew she liked it. His gentle sucking continued for only a few brief moments before he suddenly withdrew and cleared his throat.

“Ah, well. You can reach my face better up here I’m sure. For the cleaning of course,” he said smugly. The elf leaned back and admired the view of his lover, nude and flustered, perched oh-so perfectly on top of him.

“The cleaning…” Tav nodded and remembered she still had a warm and soapy washcloth in her hand. The urge to throw the stupid cloth into some unknown corner of the room was nearly undeniable. All she wanted in this moment was for him to take her completely, in any way he wanted, it didn’t matter as long as she ended up getting fucked into oblivion. So fine. On with the cleaning.

She raised the washcloth to his temple and slowly began to wipe away the dried blood by working down his face. His cheeks were a bit sunken as usual but flushed adorably in this moment, clearly enjoying the tender rubs of cloth on his skin. She continued rubbing down toward his chiseled jawline, across to his lips, and back up the other side to repeat the process once more. She ran her fingers through his silver curls and noticed his ears would need cleaning too. 

One hand caressed the pointy ear to keep it in place and the other brought the washcloth in for a gentle scrub. A quiet moan suddenly escaped the vampire’s lips.

Oh? She had seemingly discovered a sensitive spot and noted that she would have to continue her work carefully. The scrubbing continued but Tav couldn’t keep her eyes off his face now. His eyes were closed but still noticeably moving behind their lids, and his lips were slightly parted with his breathing becoming increasingly heavier and more noticeable. 

Astarion was in his own world of pleasure. What in the hells had he been doing these past weeks, aimlessly scrubbing himself clean alone in the river when they could have been doing this the whole time instead?

He opened his eyes just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. She was still there of course, diligently and lovingly taking such good care of his body. A wave of maddening lust rushed through his core and he needed her closer. He needed her as close as physically possible and even more so after that.

Their eyes met, revealing intense desires. Tav lowered her hands and she spoke slowly, “Can you take your shirt off? There’s a spot I can’t get to with it on…” 

She wasn’t fooling anybody, but he obeyed without hesitation. The shirt was gone in seconds, revealing his pale and perfectly sculpted chest. It was a sight that Tav never tired of admiring, and was in fact the subject of distracting daydreams on the daily. She shifted her body closer to his and continued scrubbing his neck and chest, despite it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus. Deep breaths.

She had always been fond of his cologne that he was quite proud of concocting himself. The scent of aged brandy, bergamot, and rosemary was now forever an Astarion specialty that she could never forget. Even during times of battle or travel, a gust of wind could carry his essence to her and bring along with it a sense of reassuring familiarity. As she continued to wipe him down, however, a different scent began to come to the forefront.

It was something that did not seem completely foreign, but it wasn't immediately identifiable either. There was something about taking it all in that felt forbidden. Tav tried to pinpoint what she was experiencing. He smelled earthy… raw… unnatural… it was without a doubt, the undeath.

An undeniable heat rose through her body as she engulfed herself with this pure scent from her lover. The washcloth, the bed, the entire room seemed miles away, and nothing felt coherent except for a craving to be even closer to him. Nothing else existed except their bodies and her overwhelming desire to-

“Eager, are we?” A sultry voice snapped her back into reality, where piercing red eyes amusingly greeted her return. She suddenly became aware of a presence between her thighs and glanced down, realizing she was sitting atop a clothed bulge. His hands had a firm grip on her backside and his encouraging movements made it clear she had been absentmindedly grinding on him during her trance. 

“Shit, I got carried away…” She hadn’t taken her eyes off his crotch and began to notice that her excitement had left a dampness on his clothes. Embarrassment nearly overtook her, but a gentle yet confident hand grabbed her chin and brought it up to meet his gaze. He leaned into her with a grinning open mouth and kissed her passionately, tongues intertwining.

She felt his fangs briefly scrape against her tongue every so often until a metallic taste became increasingly noticeable. She didn't mind the blood, especially since it seemed to enhance his arousal as noted by his hips continuously jolting faster up into her exposed crotch. Tav was soon pleasantly overwhelmed between his deep kisses and desperate hands groping her at every curve of her body. She longed to give him everything; her blood for his hunger, her body for his pleasure. 

Tav released herself from the kiss they had been locked into and tilted her head so that her neck became exposed as an undeniable gift. His mouth lunged at the presented spot as soon as it was noticed, fangs immediately sinking in deep. Tav cried out at the initial impact but soon was reveling in the experience. It was a perfect mixture of pain and pleasure that she was only capable of experiencing from him.

He remained on her neck for a while, still tightly holding on to her body and keeping one hand free to reassuringly caress the back of her head. It was only after the blood flow slowed to a near stop did he cease his medley of licking and sucking at the wound. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his exposed chest, but he was ultimately unfazed. He leaned back, clearly happy and mostly satisfied, but there was still a different type of satisfaction he had left to chase.

Astarion's throbbing erection was begging to be released from its clothed restraints. He quickly untied his pants and shifted his underwear to finally free it. He moaned a few incomprehensible words of relief and stroked himself a few times before looking up at Tav for approval.

Tav had been staring at his length from the moment it was exposed, an impressive size for an elf, no doubt. Her eyes fixated on his perfectly pink tip, glistening with precum just for her. She immediately fantasized of shoving him down her throat until she choked and cried, but that was a fantasy for another day. In their current position, they both knew there was only one simple way of how to continue.

“Astarion,” she whimpered. “Fuck me.”

Tav sat up on her knees and positioned herself so that her entrance was just nearly grazing the head of his dick, ready to take him in completely at any moment. She grabbed ahold of his shaft and guided the tip back and forth through her folds until he was covered in her slick. The new sensation of the friction between them left them both gasping and desperate for more.

Suddenly, finally, his arms wrapped around her body as he pulled her down onto him with one firm motion. Astarion grunted through his teeth while Tav moaned unapologetically, focusing on relaxing enough to allow her body to adjust to his length inside of her. 

The temperature differences between their bodies only heightened the feelings of pleasure whenever they became one. Her warmness was intoxicating to him, granting a sense of safety and bliss that was impossible to achieve anywhere else. He was already so close to the edge in this moment, but was not ready to give in just yet. He wanted this moment of heaven to last as long as possible.

Meanwhile, Tav was having the time of her life riding her man like there was no tomorrow. She had no intent to slow down until a pair of large hands suddenly gripped her hips in a way that prevented any further movement.

“I’m not done with you yet, love. Didn’t you notice the mess I’ve made after feasting on you?” Astarion took a finger to his chin and smeared a bit of Tav’s fresh blood down his neck.

It was true, he had made a mess. Quite uncharacteristically of him in fact. Tav had assumed he had simply gotten careless in his horny and feral craze but no- it was clearly all calculated. 

“Just be still and sit nice and pretty on my cock. Finish the cleaning, then I’ll take care of you myself. How does that sound?” 

How does that sound? His words echoed in her head, which was already spinning plenty enough as it was. She was unsure if it was from the blood loss or her seemingly never ending carnal desires, but perhaps it was both. One thing was certain, however, he could convince her to do damn near anything speaking in that low and lustful tone of his. Without uttering a word she slowly brought the washcloth up to his chest. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. He felt her body twitch around him in response to the praise, and he leaned back to relax and enjoy these final few moments of intimacy. 

It had taken everything in Tav's power to remain still while she worked. It wasn't exactly easy to focus- she was being split in half by a whimpering vampire beneath her after all. Astarion’s skilled fingers had been dancing around her swollen clit the whole time, just enough to keep her stimulated but never enough to let her come.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blood was all cleaned up. She hadn't even realized when it happened or how he did it, but his pants were completely gone now. She reached over to place the cloth down and awaited her reward of sweet release.

Astarion’s hands moved to the knees that were straddling him and slowly pushed them farther apart, spreading Tav’s legs open bit by bit. She inhaled sharply as she took him in deeper. He opened her up more and more until she lost her balance and fell backwards onto his expectant embrace. 

“Relax darling, I’ve got you,” He purred in reassurance. 

Astarion took her entire weight in his arms with ease and laid her down amongst the soft pillows of the bed. He nestled himself comfortably between her legs, making sure their bodies were flush with one another. Nearly smothered by his body now, all Tav could do was claw at his back and arch her hips into his powerful thrusts. His mouth frantically traveled across her lips and neck with desperately wet kisses until he settled near her ear with a playful nibble.

“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered tenderly, while the rhythm of his lovemaking became increasingly sporadic. “So fucking perfect… Gods…just for me… I love you… so much...”

“Star, I- ah!” Her words cut short as she felt something snap within her. Pure ecstasy- she was falling and flying somewhere a million galaxies away and never wanted to come back. Obscene noises and curses filled the room as they rode out each other’s high in tight embrace. The smell of sex lingered in the air as their bodies heaved with labored breaths, finally collapsing on each other in exhaustion. 

They laid together a while longer, exchanging soft kisses and enjoying the short moment in time where nothing else in the world mattered. Eventually, Astarion rolled out of the bed and stood up to stretch. 

“Tsk, looks like it’s my turn to clean you up my dear,” He said with an accomplished grin, eying how her thighs were dripping with his sticky mess.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move an inch. Actually, I doubt you can move at all after that, ahaha!” He laughed and leaned over to brush aside a strand of Tav’s sweaty hair that was stuck to her forehead before walking over to the other room. 

“Shut up… dummy…” she smiled to herself and rolled over, feeling at ease enough that the weight of sleep was starting to overtake her.

“I love you too, Astarion.” Her eyes closed as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that her lover would soon come back to her side like he always did, and always would.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #bg3 astarion #astarion fluff #bg3 #astarion fanfiction #vampire fanfiction #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #bg3 smut

[entitled-fangirl]

Sparring.

Jasper Hale x vampire!reader

Summary: As Jasper teaches how to fight the newborns, the reader and Bella talk about her past.

Words: 1,551

Warning: vampire stuff, talk of death, cursing

Author's note: I can't tell if I love it or hate it but here you go anyway!

Masterlist <3

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The famous silver jeep of the Cullen’s pulled up as she watched Emmett be thrown into the dirt. 

The entire family turned as Edward and Bella stepped out of the car.

As they walk to the family, so do the wolves. 

Each vampire held to their mate as they watched said wolves come out from the tree line. Soft growls came from their snouts from the obvious smell of vampires.

Jasper held on to her as they did so, his arms around her waist, his chest providing support against her back. 

Edward stepped to Carlisle, “They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms.”

Carlisle nodded, “At least they came. That’s enough. Will you translate?”

Carlisle stepped towards the wolves, thanking them for coming before explaining that Jasper would be the teacher in this scenario.

Jasper’s loving mate smiled. She loved sparring as a family.

…

Some time passes and the girl now sits on the hood of the jeep next to Bella. She leans over, “I’ve always found this entertaining. Watching them,  I mean…”

Bella smiled as Emmett flew threw the air once again. “I did have a question, if you don’t mind me asking…?”

The girl nods, anticipating what the human could possibly think of to ask.

“Jasper knows a lot about this kind of thing… I mean… Why is that exactly..?”

His mate shifts slightly, not expecting that question. “Well, Bella. I don’t feel that I’m the one that should tell you. Perhaps you should ask him. It’s… a horrid story, honestly. I’m not sure he’d want it out there, you know?”

Bella nods, “yeah, right. I get it… sorry.”

The girl’s head perks up at the sound of her name being called by Carlisle. “Oh, shit. My turn to go. Watch me, Bells?”

Bella grins, “Of course.”

…

Jasper stood confidently on the dirt ground, his eyes trained on the person in front of him.

His pretty mate. 

She held the same look in her eyes. 

They had sparred many times before. And they were both quite good. He taught her practically everything he knows. 

The entire family gathered around to see how it would play out. Would they go easy on each other? Who would win?

It seemed the two held that look in their eyes as well as they tried to scope the other one’s thoughts.

Then he rushed her. 

They were both incredible to watch as if they were dancing. Their bodies seemed to always know what the other would do, even when changing their fighting style. It seemed the two lovers truly knew each other in and out. 

Eventually she slipped, and Jasper seized his opportunity, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him. 

Pulled against his body, her face was mere inches from him. The tension between the two rose as his gaze fell to her lips. God, he couldn’t resist her even when he was pretending to be her enemy.

And she was no better.

She focused on the feeling of his strong grip, his sturdy fingers wrapped around her seemingly delicate wrist. 

If they were alone, this sparring match would have escalated, like it usually does when they are so. But today, they simply stared at each other. Those who didn’t know them would assume they were calculating what the other might do next, but no. This family knew them quite well. And thank god no one else had Jasper’s gift, or the tension would bring a blush to their cheeks.

She gently leaned forward, their lips brushing. Jasper tilted his head down to receive her soft lips. But they never came.

She swept his leg out from under him, pinning him to the ground as she placed a knee on his chest. 

She leaned down to his face, whispering softly in his ear, “What was that you said? Don’t get distracted?”

He smiled, letting his head fall back against the dirt. 

She would be the death of him. 

And he would love it.

…

The sparring continued the next day as she found herself sitting next to Bella on the hood of the car again.

She watched Jasper as he sparred with an admiring look in her eye. She loved the Major with all her heart. 

Or, what was left of it anyway.

If it still pumped blood, she would be able to feel it beat for him.

“Do you mind if I ask you another question? A different one, this time?”

The girl nods, “Yeah, don’t see why not.” 

Bella looks down at the dirt. “Can I ask what happened to you? How you… how you got here?”

She felt a breath come out of her unused lungs, “Oh. Yeah. ‘Course. It’s… not a pleasant story but any means… are you sure?”

The human nods, “Please. I’m trying to understand you guys better.”

The girl leans back slightly, regaining her bearings. “Alright. Well… I was born in 1941. I uh, grew up in the 50s. Not the best timing, obviously. Do you know much about the ’50’s, Bella?”

The human’s head tilts back and forth in thought, “A little. Civil rights and stuff..?”

“Yeah. Well, the Korean War was in the 50’s. There was this military guy that fell in love with me. And I to him. But… we, uh… how do I say this? He was… we were…?”

Bella leans forward, “…what? Just say it.”

“Well, we were different skin tones. And.. well, I don’t need to say much more. Anyway, there was this other man that decided he liked me. He was pigheaded and awful. I hated him. He tormented me everyday. I finally told him about the man that-“

“-what was his name?”

The girl’s head perked up, “Whose?”

Bella met her eyes, “…the one you loved.”

A deep sigh left the vampire’s lips, “…Johnathan.”

Bella nodded, leaning back again to let the girl continue her story.

“I told the man about… Johnathan and… the man began to tell everyone in town. It became the only thing anyone talked about until eventually…. Eventually...,” the girl’s voice faded out in thought. “…I’m sorry. I haven’t told this story in so long…”

“It’s alright. Take your time.”

“Thank you… uh… the man formed a mob and approached us in the park one day. Johnathan tried to protect me. And he did. Until they… killed him…” the girl stared at the ground, a somber look in her eyes. “…and the man ended up being a vampire… he changed me and… well… yeah.”

Bella nodded, “How did you find Carlisle?”

“Oh. Right. Uh, I was on the run… after I changed. I actually ran into him. Well, he ran into me. He…. He stood to where I would crash into him, so he could talk to me. He knew everything. He took me in. And I met Jasper…”

Her eyes wandered back to Jasper. His sleeves were pulled up, exposing the skin of his forearms, and the scars that resided there. He was so strong. So perfect. Her knight in shining armor. 

Bella noticed the girl’s longing gaze and smiled to herself. “…how did you know he was the one?”

The girl turned back to Bella, “Oh. You just know, Bella. It’s… ugh, it’s this feeling you get in your heart. Like you’ve finally taken a breath after being underwater for years. Like your souls have intertwined and have become one. It’s… strange to put into words…”

Bella nods, “It sounds wonderful.”

She nods too, “Oh, it is. Edward feels that way about you.”

Bella looks up in surprise, “Really?”

She smiles, “Yeah. He told me that the day he met you. Like he couldn’t think around you. You… occupy all of his thoughts. You fascinate him.”

The human grins, “And that’s how Jasper feels?”

“-How I feel about what?”

Jasper had walked up to the two, a grin on his face. He leaned against the car on his side, his arm resting over his girl’s leg. 

His mate smiled, “Perhaps it’s none of your business… girl things…”

Jasper scoffed, “Sure, darlin’. Anything you say.”

Her hand reached up to run it through his hair. 

The three sat in silence for a while before the girl broke it. “I need to go back to the house. Help me down, Jas?”

He stood, reaching his arms out, gripping her waist to help her down. She was vampire. She didn’t need help. And they both knew that. 

Bella scooted forward, “Wait, before you go…?”

The girl turned around in Jasper’s arms. “…Yeah?”

“What happened to him? …To the guy that…”

The girl’s lips pulled up into a smirk. Her head turned slightly to look at Jasper’s face that held the same knowing smirk of his own. “Well, Bella. He… got what he deserved…” 

And with that, she walked away. 

Bella gawked slightly, now focusing on Jasper, hoping he could illuminate on the situation. 

But he continued to grin, watching his girl walk away. 

Eventually, Jasper felt Bella’s confused emotion and turned to her. “I made a vow not to kill after I met her…”

Bella’s eyebrows knitted together, and Jasper’s smirk grew into a grin. 

“…But I fucking killed him.”

And with that, silence overtook the forest as he continued to watch his girl walk away.

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#jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x you #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper hale #twilight x y/n #twilight x reader #twilight imagines #twilight fanfiction #twilight #vampire imagine #vampire fanfiction #vampire

[writingoddess1125]

WE SEE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #vikings fanfic #vampire fanfiction #fanart appreciation #fanfic #x reader #x fem!reader #x male reader #one peice x reader #marvel x reader #vikings x reader

[darlingnikkisixx]

Maybe I wouldn't be so depressed if I were a vampire in Santa Carla.

#lost boys mate #the lost boys #vampire fanfiction #movies #vampire #santa carla #80s movies #the lost boys 1987 #lost boys

[pursuitseternal]

“Just a drop…” 🩸 Astarion x f!Tav drabble

Summary: what it must have been for Astarion to watch Tav dead, hoping beyond hope her transformation succeeds. For he would willing give her more than just a drop, if it meant her at his side… forever.

A/N: a bit of spoilers, I imagine, as someone who transformed under… unpleasant circumstances, Astarion, even in Ascended form, would struggle to watch his love die to be remade

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

There. The deed was done, he breathed. His belly had never been more full, his veins beating with ascendant power.

His love spread lifeless on the floor between his legs. Her skin as pale as him at last. Her heart stopped. But a smile rested on her white lips.

Leaving her like this would make her no more than he had been. Spawn. Controlled and mindless. But he loved her mind, her personality, all of it.

But his blood would change her, imbue her with more than fate had ever given him.

Astarion wasted no time, using a fang to sever the artery in his wrist. Blood spurting as if his heart beat again.

Maybe it did. Maybe becoming as powerful as he was now meant what was dead inside him lived once more. Life and power.

Just a drop. That was what was prescribed. To make her something more than a mindless slave, bent wholly to his will. More than mere spawn.

Holding his breath, he couldn’t watch, just glancing enough to make sure that spurt after spurt of his blood filled her dead mouth. That it trickled down her throat.

He would never say so, never admit to the fear that he pushed through in that moment. He would forever say with words that it had been just one drop of his blood to make her what she would become. His consort. But, truth be told, he would give every ounce in his body if it meant she no longer laid dead beneath him.

Head growing light, his vision swam. Astarion pulled away his wrist, licking it clean himself as wisps of shadow formed around the wound. Sealed.

But even as his own power crept back along his nerves, she laid lifeless still.

Maybe it hadn’t been enough, he resisted the need for his muscles to shiver. Maybe it had been too much? Perhaps just a drop was the only way to make certain she would return to him.

His stomach felt sick, fighting the memories of his own transformation. The stinking street, the sight of Cazador’s glowing eyes as the world grew black. The stifling claustrophobia of a coffin and the grit of dirt on his nails as he panic-scrambled for freedom. How could he have won, and yet still feel the ghost of Caz— of that monster? He would be better than him, more powerful, more… well more. He pushed away the creeping shakes of trauma. Of what it was like, waking in the dark and dirt and abuse.

No, for her, she would wake to the sun.

If she wakes at all… doubt hissed its nefarious voice in his mind. Why do you think yourself worthy of a mate… a consort? You’ve barely been a real vampire for more than a few hours…

He could puke, wretch up all her delicious living blood right then and there. Standing, he crossed to the inn window, trying to gasp in the cool night breeze.

It was… enough. Enough to remind him that with power came freedom. True freedom. Better freedom than Cazador ever enjoyed. Why else would he have coveted this rite? No, it was his. He, Astarion, deserved it. Just as he deserved to have someone by his side through it all.

As he had remained by hers.

Something in his belly swirled, not with nausea, but with power, a sort of second beating in his chest.

A smile crept over his mouth as he hurried to kneel at her side, a finger lifting up her cold lip.

Longer teeth, whiter teeth. Fangs.

Gods below, it was working.

Peace eased around his heart. He had created his lover, aeterna amantes, until the end of time, until the very world burned.

He scooped her cold body in his arms, cradling the limpness of her frame against his chest. Setting her softly in the bed, he withdrew. Looking at all that had stolen his heart and brought him to such… power… to such opportunity… to such healing.

She would wake to the sun, and he would wake every day to the beat of her undead heart in his chest as her maker.

He wrapped himself in the comfort of his power. No one would ever know how much he gave her, no one could ever know of his weakness for her. He would protect her, guard her, feel her in his very veins.

He would be more than any vampire lord. Better. Stronger. And now, he would never be alone. For she was worth more than just a drop.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Other Ascended Astarion x Reader fics:

🖤“The Rogue You Were: Welcome me”

💦“The Rogue You Were: Cleanse me”

#baldurs gate spoilers #astarion x f!tav #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion angst #astarion ancunin #baldur’s gate astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate smut #astarion smut #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate #baldursgate3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate fanfiction #vampire fanfiction #vampire

[piratesfromspace]

Vampire!Price imagine

(smut below the cut)

Vampire!Price who can tell when you’re on your period. He’s usually a bit reluctant to drink your blood, is afraid to involuntarily hurt you, but in this situation, he’s not, he knows it’s totally safe for you. He can also sense when you’re in pain, he can hear your heartbeat accelerating, the sudden whimper of pain you try to muffle, the way you move differently to try and alleviate the hurt. He's also more protective of you, will dryly dismiss any recruits who are bothering you in any way. Your distress becomes his, and he’s set on making you (and him) feel better.

He will spread you into his sheets, comfortably supported by many pillows, and just go down on you. His vampiric instincts kick in at the smell of your blood, and he will eat you like a man devouring the finest meal. Will take his time, savoring the taste of your delicate blood mixed with the sweetness of your desire. His broad hands holding your thighs, or spreading on your belly, warm and comforting on your skin. He will bring soft and slow orgasms out of you, praising you in between, muttering against your folds how good you taste. He won’t tire, still getting at it while you drift into some sort of trance, the pain ebbing away replaced by pleasure. Your captain could spend the entire night between your thighs if you let him.

#price x reader #cod fanfiction #captain john price #john price x reader #vampire!price #vampire fanfiction #cod mw2 #kinktober #protective!price

[fayes-fics]

Enthralled

Pairings: Vampire!Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader x Thomas Dorset

Summary: You and your new husband invite a handsome stranger to your rooms, but all is not as it seems...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, dom/sub undertones, bisexual male characters, slash content, oral sex (f to m, m to m, m to f) blow jobs, deepthroat w smidge of breathplay, facesitting, edging/orgasm control, vaginal sex, anal sex, simultaneous penetration, multiple orgasms, biting, bloodplay, blood-drinking.

Word Count: 9k

Authors Note: The reader remix of this story. A gothic-ish Halloween threesome with Vampire!Benedict. This is my first foray into writing slash content. If you are looking for a plot or backstory, this will likely disappoint; it's just an excuse for vaguely spooky, unrelenting smut - I cannot celebrate a holiday any other way lol. I wanted to choose a minor show character as the husband, and Dr Dorset screams secretly adventurous to me. Please heed the warnings above; this is pretty full-on. If you proceed, I hope you enjoy! <3

Credits: Thanks to @colettebronte for advice and betaing and @eleanor-bradstreet for her Vampiric expertise. Artwork includes edits made weeks ago for this story by our dearly departed @bridgertontess. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Benedict smells it long before he ever sees you.

Fresh blood, sweet young bodies in the flushes of arousal; it makes him hungry in every sense of the word. The almost painful need to feast and fuck. He inhales deep, lewdly, letting the tempting scents fill his being. He pulls on his cloak and goes out to find you.

—

Mrs Dorset.

You practice the name, sitting at the vanity table of your rooms at the inn, feeling cosy in the soft candlelight glow as the autumnal wind howls portentously beyond the window. The quill scratches the paper as you loop the letters, learning the structure of your new name as it flows under your hand.

“What are you doing, my love?” Thomas rounds behind you, returning to your rooms with steaming hot tea as promised.

“I am practising my new name,” you reply proudly, twisting to look up at your husband of merely two days as he places aside the tea tray, squeezing your shoulders lightly.

“Oh, I see, that is… well, that is wonderful,” his cadence wavering. It seems as if he is embarrassed at how something as simple as your desire to write his name could make him burn physically, the glistening, dark, looped strokes causing a primal wash of possession. His fingers flex instinctually, mapping your collarbone, your flesh irresistible under his fingertips. You squeak as he rocks his body into your back, something insistent pressing into your spine.

“Husband,” you drawl, meeting his eye in the vanity mirror. “Are you aroused?” Your question isn't judgemental, but pure curiosity and desire, leaning back into him.

“Yes, darling wife. You have my name. It is…. Appealing,” he answers honestly, a touch winded, his fingers trailing lower over your warm skin onto the swell of your breast.

Your eyes flash in the reflection, and then suddenly, you spin around on the stool and bury your face into his trousers, nuzzling his hardness. His growl is deep and wracked. So utterly undone by how forthright you can be with your intentions. 

You look up at him, fluttering your eyelids as you pluck open his trousers determinedly, push down his underwear, and wrap your hands around the back of his thighs to draw him even closer. Immediately you encase his tasty warm cock in your mouth, so very keen for him. 

He groans to the ceiling as if disbelieving in his luck.

—

Benedict finds himself outside the quaint country inn barely a quarter mile from his country home. No wonder he could smell it so strong. 

As he stares up at a mullioned window, russet leaves swirling around his feet on this cold, crisp night, he sees the glowing candlelight signifying the room’s occupation. Indeed, it is the only one lit as such on the first floor. He surmises the couple are likely newlyweds, perhaps passing through the area on their honeymoon—the first ones who have done so since he was turned a few months back.

While he has trained himself on the scent of the people in the proximal area and taught himself they are not food, he is powerless to resist this. Them. From scent alone, they are in their twenties, and right now, they are engaging in something carnal. He can smell ripe juices swirling in the air along with the thronging of their hearts, blood coursing. It makes his cock strain painfully against the wool of his britches. 

He never used to be like this—a creature of such base instinct. Yes, when human, he had his fair share of lovers of all persuasions, but it had been an occasional bacchanalian indulgence. Now. Now, he can barely contain himself. His tongue licks around the point of his fang, tasting the air, knowing without a doubt they will be under his thrall within moments of meeting and lost in a temporary reverie of how he will enjoy them.

—

“Y/n….” it’s throaty, raw, wrecked, a hand buried in your locks.

His taste is strong in your mouth as Thomas flops back upon the bed, utterly sated after he finds completion. You had pushed him backwards from the vanity table onto the edge of the bed and sunk to your knees before him, eagerly taking him into your mouth, motions wanton, brazen, your skill and enthusiasm blossoming under his few days of tutelage. Learning his body and needs; learning to use your tongue in ways that make him breathless and unerringly grateful. 

You delicately wipe your chin of his seed with a handkerchief and rise to your feet as gracefully as you can as he lays there panting, staring at the velvet drapes over the four-poster bed, his mind blanked out from pleasure.

“Husband,” you coo in a light tease, “I do believe it is now time we took dinner; 'tis nearing 7pm.”

Thomas pouts, looking as if he wants to feast only upon you, not mere food. The grumble in his stomach, though, gives away his status, and your giggle makes him sit up reluctantly, tucking himself back into his trousers and righting his clothes.

“I suppose sustenance is required,” he smiles indulgently, standing up and wrapping you in his arms. “If only to provide energy for our later activities,” he adds teasingly into your ear; a light shiver runs through your being as he says it. 

“Then let us eat, Dr Dorset,” you murmur into his jaw, running a hand down his waistcoat. Feeling light as air, you gigglingly tumble down the hallway and staircase to the public house below, wrapped up in each other’s arms, barely noticing the tall, cloaked figure as it slips in through the main door.

—

Benedict nods to Jenkins, the publican and innkeeper behind the bar; locals always having an open invitation to drink and dine any night of the week. Tonight, the public house is deserted save for a regular - drunkard Willie, propping up the corner of the bar as ever - and the newlywed couple now ensconced in an alcove by the roaring fireplace.

He sets eyes upon you both properly, and his insides almost feel warm. You are both beautiful in ways that make him ache. The man is tall, fair of face and built handsomely. You are just his type of woman physically with a spirited mien that looks like you would be the very best kind of challenge to tame. He longs to strip you both naked and run his tongue down your healthy contours, revel in your bodies, coursing with life.

Taking the brandy awaiting him on the bar, he glides towards you, flicking up his velvet collar as he does so, knowing of his powers and how to wield them to his advantage when needs must.

“Welcome to Wiltshire,” his opening gambit, smooth and dusky, raising his glass.

Both you and Thomas look up, startled at a handsome stranger’s interruption to your intimate conversation. Still, Benedict doesn't miss for a second how both of your eyes dilate rapidly.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Thomas Dorset stumbles, raising his glass without thought in a silent responding toast.

“Please call me Benedict. May I join you?” his ask is unfaulteringly polite, but with a lopsided grin, he has long learned is his ticket to everything he may want in this world.

Dorset immediately gestures for him to do so, despite himself, and Benedict slides smoothly onto the bench seat across from them with a dramatic swish of his ample velvet cloak.

“And you are?” he smiles at you both expectantly.

“Oh, where are my manners!?” Thomas decries as if snapping back to reality. “I am Dr Thomas Dorset, and this,” his arm wraps tighter around your shoulders, “is my wonderful new wife, Mrs y/n Dorset.”

You smile at Benedict; he can sense your apprehension at this stranger joining them but also hears your heart fluttering just a fraction harder as he meets your gaze. Can smell the uptick in your bodily response, a new tang to your natural scent that speaks of piqued interest. He knows with just a few well-deployed lingering looks and chosen words, he could throw you over the table right here in front of your husband and fuck you so well you would beg him for more. Again, he is grateful for the cloak he wears, hiding the bulge in his clothing that has barely slaked since your arrival to the area.

“It is so wonderful to meet you both,” he drawls, running a finger over his bottom lip to draw attention to his mouth. If you stare long enough, the thrall will be so easy. “What brings you to our fine village?”

“We are passing through on our way to Cornwall for our honeymoon,” Dorset confirms what Benedict already suspected. 

“This is rather off the beaten path to such a place,” Benedict states dryly with a wink, knowing he is reeling you in with every word he utters.

“Indeed,” Thomas concedes, “my new wife insisted we come via this route to allow us to call upon her sister during our journey.”

Benedict smiles, subtly scenting your bodies as you and Thomas lean in without realising, falling under his spell.

“Well then, I insist I purchase your dinner and drinks this evening,” he declares, watching bemused as you both attempt to remonstrate. “I will not accept no for an answer,” he appends, victory glowing as you acquiesce, not realising this will be the first of many permissions you will grant him tonight, all being well.

—

You chew upon the venison slowly, one eye on your additional party, still unsure why he has chosen to join you and, indeed, pay for your meal when he apparently is not eating himself. Engaging you in conversation that seems peculiarly beguiling and dangerous all at once. 

He is undoubtedly attractive. Hazy blue eyes under a mass of chestnut hair, a pale-skinned face with exquisite sharp lines. Feeling guilty to admit it silently, you find him just as attractive as your husband, maybe more so—something so hypnotic in how he holds himself, moves, and speaks. Finding yourself drawn to him, a stirring in your underwear that you swear he can sense. Every time a little frisson runs through your body, his head unerringly swings towards you, a slight curl in his luscious lip, like he is smelling your arousal and thinks it the tastiest treat in the world. 

You could swear he is trying to steal you from your husband - and to your horror, you realise you would absolutely let him - except… his attention is just as rapt upon Thomas. Benedict’s gaze is just as covetous when he speaks. His tongue flicks the corner of his mouth as your husband casually leans back and crosses his legs—as if Benedict is scenting his body, too. It's confusing but intoxicating, as if your wine is laced with a far more potent substance.

—

Benedict knows he has won you both over before you put down your dessert spoons, now hanging on his every word. 

“Let us repair to somewhere more intimate for a nightcap,” he suggests, and your joint responding consent is instant. “How about your rooms here at the Inn?”

Were you in your sound, sober minds, it seems unlikely you would invite a stranger to your rooms, but as it is, you enthusiastically do. Benedict snags the remainder of the brandy bottle from the bar as he settles the bill.

“Friends of yours?” Jenkins frowns, vaguely intrigued.

“Everyone is a friend yet to be made, Jenkins,” Benedict answers, intentionally vague.

Jenkins rolls his eyes. “Bloody poets…” he is heard to mutter under his breath, but Benedict lets it pass. If the man invoked the name Byron, perhaps he wouldn't have. Might have stolen a chicken or two from the coup outside to exsanguinate in revenge.

Benedict trails behind you, both pleasantly inebriated now, holding the wood panelling as you negotiate the narrow corridors of the inn to your rooms, inhibitions lowered. He knows you are just in that sweet spot where you will be so open to suggestions but not so out of your minds to be a pointless fuck, unable to respond. There is nothing less appealing to him than a lifeless, limp, unconscious being. Yes, easy to feed upon, perhaps, but no challenge. The only thrill he gets these days is that of the chase. Of the crackling potential of any moment, human hearts beating wildly in his presence, blood pumping hard—that is what brings him exhilaration.

—

Dorset fumbles the heavy iron key in the lock, leaning into you as you giggle along with him. The attractive, imposing man stood patiently behind you, seemingly sober, which is impressive given he drank more than you both. Still unsure what is possessing him to allow this, Thomas nevertheless feels compelled to do this man’s bidding, to allow this whatever he wishes. 

It may be a secret he has kept from you, but Dorset is not immune to the charms of a handsome man. In his youthful days at Cambridge, he had many a clandestine encounter with his fellow students. Late drunken nights of experimentation. He knows the power of a man’s touch, enjoying the taboo feeling of being taken roughly, clawing the mattress as he is mounted without mercy. A man's body may differ greatly from a woman’s, but it is no less of an attractive wonderland.

Little does he know just how soon you will learn of that predilection.

—

You twirl around the room as the men take a seat and pour more liquor, feeling ebullient, basking in the heat of the fire on this cold autumn night, dizzy and fizzling with energy. You feel the gaze of both men, knowing both track your moments from the wingtip chairs they inhabit. Your insides feel ripe and pulpy, compelling you to be daring, a peculiar impulse to strip and dance naked in front of them. 

There must have been something in my drink. Surely?

Your husband interrupts just as you think to act. 

“Darling, come sit with us,” Thomas appeals, patting his knee enticingly.

He would never typically invite you to sit upon him in the company of a stranger, but everything about tonight feels different, so you allow yourself to be swept into it. To see what may arise with the handsome, mysterious visitor. 

You float over and sigh as you fall into Thomas’ lap, the heat of his leg seeping through your dress, warming your bottom. He pulls you snugly into his lap, bumping a stirring hardness and without a doubt, you know this evening will go somewhere you never expected…. And yet, you can't wait for it to do so.

“Isn't my wife beautiful?” Dorset slurs, his breath hot on your ear, turning you both to face Benedict in the chair next to you as if he is seeking his approval for his choice of spouse.

“Indeed she is,” Benedict responds, dark and silky, a shiver tracing down your spine as he voices it. “As are you handsome, good sir,” he adds, and you know they are very much out of your depth as you feel the same shudder pass through your husband's being beneath you.

Oh, good lord, who is this man?

—

Benedict sees you reacting to his voice, sees the ripple in your beings, hears it in your breathing, and knows he has you fully enthralled. You are his to do precisely as he wants now. Tumbling images flash through his mind as to how he can have both of your bodies—sweat and skin, blood and bone, moving together in a carnal symphony. 

His instinct is to take you and then your husband. He can see the willingness there, but he’ll need more enticing to allow that dormant flame to be relit. Perhaps watching you, his new wife, give yourself so readily will be just the nudge he needs to submit, also.

So when Thomas turns to Benedict, offering you on the plate that is his lap, he decides this is the moment to strike. Downing the rest of his glass, he stands and tugs at the string of his velvet cape, which falls to the floor with a heavy whump… to reveal his fitted cropped jacket and tight britches, tailored in black fabric like a second skin, giving away everything about what he has to offer. 

He hears your sharp inhales at the unmistakable tented outline.

“Desire is such a funny thing, is it not?” he rumbles, moving closer, and your legs fall apart on instinct, the air suddenly filled with a potent scent of your arousal that makes his tongue itch to taste.

“In what way?” Thomas hitches, his hands grabbing your waist reflexively as Benedict can hear his heartbeat in his breathy cadence.

“You both want me, and yet you offer your wife to me first,” Benedict assesses cooly, raising an eyebrow as he takes a step closer, watching you squirm as your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

“I did nothing of the sor…” Thomas’s response dies on the spot as one long, slender finger lands on his lips, hushing him, a sharp fingernail resting under his nose.

“We both know you did,” Benedict argues laconically, “And lucky for you…” Benedict almost chuckles as you gasp when his other hand cups your jaw. “…She wants me too. Right now, her thighs are soaked with delicious slickness; I can smell it,” he states casually, holding you both.

“Is that true?” Thomas inquires, side-eying you but not moving under Benedict's finger.

“Yes,” you exhale shakily, unable to peel your gaze from Benedict's face now he has tilted your jaw up to him. “I want him, husband,” you confess raggedly, not knowing why you are voicing it. “And I want you to watch, to participate.”

Benedict chuckles again. “Of course, you do, little one. You love him, even if you are tempted by the fruit of another.” He traces a knuckle down over your chin, your throat, where your pulse is beating wildly, pausing on your clavicle. You know your eyes are wide and beseeching, begging for more.

Benedict swings his gaze to Thomas, then leans in. “If you truly love your wife, you will kiss me right now,” he taunts, his lips hovering so close, “give her a good show; I need her trembling before I take her.”

Come on, sweet prince, dance with me.

—

Thomas can barely comprehend what is transpiring. But he doesn't want to fight it. The man’s finger is cool on his lip as he poses the question. You are writhing deliciously in his lap, making his cock swell painfully against the cleft of your bottom. The next decision is inevitable, fated.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

He gently purses his lips and gives permission by bussing a featherlight kiss onto Benedict’s finger. The predatory smile that unfurls across the man’s face doesn't seem human, more akin to creature than man.

Then his jaw is tilted back, and his world swims as the man closes the few inches between their faces and kisses him. It's biting, hungry, desperate. A skilled tongue rolls over his, and Thomas feels a groan bubble up from deep inside. Possessed, overwhelmed, taken. Benedict tastes like sin but something odd like decay, too, at the edges of the fragrant brandy—some tart undercurrent that is wholly otherworldly and unnerving.

Thomas feels as much as he hears your moan. Feels the weight of your gaze glued to their faces, no doubt seeing a peak of their tongues entwining. Feels the weight of your body in his lap, moving rhythmically, grinding insistently, tilting your hips forward brazenly to drag your clit over the creases in his trousers. Your shameless want and desire are potent and arousing. Even as Benedict’s kiss steals his breath, a faint voice in his head gnaws about your actions being as inexplicable as his, but it's mostly drowned out by the roar of blood pumping hard in his system, seeming so loud around this man, as if he is in tune with it somehow.

As Benedict pulls back, Thomas's vision swims, awash with sensation. He watches, dazed, as the pale man turns and captures your mouth just as covetously.

—

You have only known the passionate kiss of one man—your husband. Yet a mere three days after your first mind-blowing experience of that, you have another first. Your first kiss with another, a whole other creature, not that you can likely comprehend. Unaware of the dance with death. 

When Benedict turns and seizes your lips, you peep in surprise. But he swallows the noise, opening your mouth with his tongue, the kiss instantly intense. It's more of a take than the pliant dance you usually share with Thomas. A plundering that floods your senses and steals every breath from your lungs leaving you feeling shaky, unmoored, and taken somewhere dark that is metallic and brimstone. His kiss seems at once ephemeral and infinite. No wonder your husband looked dazed. As Benedict withdraws, the smile on his face is rapacious.

He suddenly pulls both of you to your feet, like ragdolls for him to puppet. Wrapping you up in a joint embrace, he whispers for you both to strip before releasing you just as swiftly, taking a seat on the edge of the imposing bed. As if in a trance, you begin undoing your own clothing.

“Nuh-uh,” Benedict clucks, holding a halting hand that you instantly obey. “Undress each other, my precious ones,” he elucidates, wanting a show.

Your heart thrums as you turn to your husband and he to you. Invisible strings seem to direct your frantic movements as you paw at each other, fabrics tearing in your swift pursuit of skin. You only stop panting wildly and staring when nothing is left, both frowning in confusion at the flurry and intensity of it.

What on earth just happened?

Uncertainty roils oleaginous in your stomach as if, on a gut level, your body is trying to send a warning signal. Still, at the same time, it feels detached and far away, as if your mind is in another realm, a place of edgy desire and boundless pleasure. 

—

“Well, that was quite the brief show,” Benedict pipes up, bemused. “Not that I am complaining,” he adds, smirking, his eyes raking you both greedily as he runs a casual finger down his cheek.

Your bodies are ideal, as he suspected. The man is tall and lithe, not unlike himself, his skin pale and smooth, his cock, aroused and leaking, springing from a small thatch of hair that tapers to a narrow point under his belly button. So far, so similar. His cock is nice, sizeable but not intimidating, and weirdly he feels pleased for the woman. It is not as good as his cock; he's a Bridgerton, for Pete's sake, but entirely up for the task of bringing satisfaction to anyone who interacts with it. You are his ideal shape, your contours reminding him of a violin. And such an apt metaphor, your strings so ripe to be plucked, to be properly played, perhaps for the first time. 

But mostly, what he tastes thick in the air of the heated room is your fluids. The rush of fresh blood pumping vigorously from your hearts, pulses elevated by the thrall. Sticky, sweet, and life-giving for him and you both. He is so glad he feasted on local farmstock before picking up your scent; otherwise, you would both be dead right now at his feet, lifeless and pale, every drop coursing through his mouth and swirling in his stomach like the indulgent meal your very hearty lifeforce represents. His hunger is slaked just enough that lust is his primary driver, at least for now.

He opens his mouth, engaging all the olfactory senses like a feline. Since he passed, his ability to pick up scents has been both a blessing and a curse, but right now, the best possible outcome from the dreaded experience. 

Thomas’ precum is deliciously sharp, perhaps a shade too much. Benedict makes a mental note to offer him the luxury of some pineapple should this entanglement last longer than tonight, with them both still upon this mortal plain. You would undoubtedly be grateful for the improvement in his flavour, too. 

As for you… his mouth froths. Your scent is sin itself to him, honeyed but also sharp like an undeveloped apple still clinging to the tree. A swirl of flavour in the air so plush, it takes all his willpower not to throw you to the ground and drink from between your legs. Knowing it would only take a blip, a momentary loss of careful control, to sink in his fangs, mixing your juices with your blood, what an absolute symphony of flavour that would be.

He realises he is staring at you both, panting lasciviously, lost in the jumble of scent and potential. You awaiting his next order, not even realising yourselves in suspended animation. 

“Dorset, lie in the middle of the bed,” Benedict orders gruffly, drawing himself to his feet and standing aside.

Thomas does as bidden, his cock bobbing as he climbs onto the raised mattress and settles as instructed, looking at Benedict bright-eyed, awaiting any subsequent command.

“Watch me,” Benedict tutors you, then he crawls over your husband and, without preamble, takes the man's cock deep into his mouth as Thomas howls like he did for you earlier tonight.

—

Thomas almost hits the ceiling as his cock is suddenly surrounded by strong suction, vacuumed into Benedict's mouth. In fact, Benedict keeps sinking, and Thomas pants in shock as his tip slides into the man’s throat, something he has not had in many a year. The tightness, the pure depth of sensation. It seems strange the man does not need to take a breath or even fight as if there is air in his lungs, but dammit all to hell if this isn't already the most exquisite blow job of his entire life. Benedict apparently has no gag reflex; holding him deep, a mind-bogglingly long tongue unfurls to curl around his balls and lick covetously, a wet muscular stroke over his most sensitive skin that has his fingers curling into the sheets. He cannot school the booming, guttural groan. If he had not come merely an hour ago, thanks to his dearest you, he would likely be embarrassingly close to orgasm already; this man’s skill stupendous, another edge that doesn't seem human. 

Thomas looks over frantically to you, his eyes bulging in shock, and he groans again at the sight of you. Your mouth hung open, lips rosy and damp, you have your fingers buried between your legs now, and there is a faint, lewd, wet sound as you invade your cunt with your fingers, just as he taught you on your wedding night. The sight before you is too beautiful and arousing to resist; you know your nipples are puckered, and Thomas’s tongue longs to run over them. 

He wants to fuck and be fucked, sandwiched between you, his ravishing vixen of a wife, and this devil of a man, sucking his very life essence via his cock, intent on draining him dry. Just as Thomas feels a flush all over his body and a tightening in his sac, Benedict pulls up and away, smirking victoriously as he twists towards you, ignoring Thomas’ huffed, wretched pleas.

No! No, please, please do not leave me in this state!

—

You self-consciously whip your hands away from between your legs, and your eyes cut to Benedict as he addresses you.

“That is how you ensure your husband here never leaves you, little one,” he coos, running a thumb provocatively around his drooped lower lip, licking his thumbpad of every flavour. “Now it's your turn; show me what you can do.”

Benedict reaches out a draped hand. You take it, his touch light, helping you hop onto the bed to join them. He snatches your other hand and brings the fingers you had buried in your cunt up to his nose, sniffing lewdly. 

Oh my god, this man is feral.

“I'm glad you enjoyed the show so much,” he smirks, running his nose up and down each digit. “Now I am going to taste you, darling girl,” it's low, akin to a threat.  “You will sit on my face as you take his cock in your mouth, but do not let him come. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, scarcely believing what he says. Benedict scowls slightly as he drops your hand. 

“Don't call me sir, call me Count,” he snaps.

“Yes, Count,” you amend dutifully, and his smile, yet again, is devilish.

“Good, now ensure your husband is mindless with need while I provide you the same favour,” he purrs and slides under you with balletic grace. 

Butterflies roar in your stomach as you feel the sharpness of Benedict's cheekbone press the skin of your inner thighs, draping yourself forward into your husband’s lap and tentatively licking a strip up his weeping cock as he mumbles your name weakly and moans.

Then you scream as a muscular tongue parts your folds with a force Thomas has never subjected you to. Whip-like, lashing your swollen clit with determined spirals before plunging lower and pushing far into your cunt, further than your husband's tongue has ever dared. Your groan is smothered as you take Thomas’ tip into your mouth, needing the distraction. Benedict’s hands grasp your hips and pull you down forcefully onto his face, his nose jammed against your pubic bone. Thomas has never been this engaged, devouring, a violent delight. You garble a curse around the cock, hurtling towards ecstasy as Thomas’ whole body tenses under you.

“Don't let him come,” Benedict reminds, words gusting hot over your slit, sensing what the man’s body signifies better than you do.

You pull off and breathe raggedly, staring up at your husband’s wrecked pleading face, where he leans on the headboard.

What is this? You mouth at him, nearly scared of how good it feels to ride Benedict's face so brazenly.

—

“Do not stop; use him, darling,” Thomas practically snarls through gritted teeth.

He is utterly enthralled by seeing another man taking you somewhere wild and untamed. The look of equal parts shock, fear and bewildered pleasure on your face is a picture he wants to remember forever.

He groans as you follow his advice, wrapping a hand loosely around his cock, a tease that makes his brain itch, as you concentrate on riding Benedict's invasive tongue, biting your lip, moaning vocally.

Yes, this is the best kind of sin.

Thomas mutters words, barely cognisant of what but compelled to urge you on. To take from this mysterious man so willing to give to you both, so far asking nothing in return, still fully clothed himself.

The jagged edge of his denied orgasm licks insistently at his mind, begging for release but paradoxically wallowing in the jangling ache of being so close but denied. Making him unable to think straight. As a doctor, he usually prides himself on keeping a cool head when all around may lose theirs, but tonight…. Tonight feels so peculiar. Out of the ordinary, out of control, out of his mind. And somehow craving carnality like a bestial creature, clawing at the bed, watching you be debauched by the same man who made him equally mindless.

—

Benedict cannot get enough. This wondrous pair. The husband was so responsive to his throat, and now you are bewitched just the same. Writhing your nub shamelessly over the tip of his nose, your juices trickling copiously down his nostrils to coat his throat as he plunges and twists his tongue inside you. 

He wants you both so close to ecstasy, so close you can almost taste it, but not let you just yet. The thrill of how utterly base a human can be when dangling over the edge of lust fascinated him before… but now? Now, it’s his primary driver—to make a beast out of man, woman, any human, for them to feel one ounce of what he can. That heightened state when you crave something—so frenzied every base instinct emerges, shows your true nature: growling, greedy, hungry.

So when he feels the telltale ripplings in your cunt, he rapidly withdraws, and as predicted, you cry out, the sound ringing up the walls. He smirks, grazing your inner thigh with his fangs, the urge to sink into your soft skin and drink your other crimson nectar thronging in him.

Not yet, not yet.

The calm voice centres him, even as you keep moving, attempts to frottage yourself vigorously over his face, whimpering, desperate to push over the edge you are circling.

“Shh shh, sweet one,” he soothes, pulling out from under you as you pant wildly.

His hand rests on your lumbar spine to quell you. You slow, whimpering, collapsing forward, burying your face in your husband's lap, his cock leaking on your cheek, your hips swaying in the air. Both of you are shaking, sweaty and overwhelmed.

That’s it; we are getting there now, my darlings.

—

This doesn't feel right.

That voice is whispering again, but Thomas brushes it aside, ravenous, rooted in his body. Yearning to know what is next, a willing marionette in this sinful theatrical.

His mouth goes dry as he watches Benedict slide off the end of the bed and tug at his clothing, buttons popping open until lithe alabaster skin glows in the soft, flickering firelight. Shadows play over lean, muscled torso. He is beautiful: lean, virtually hairless, carved like a marble statue, just as pale and smooth. In fact, his beauty seems too ethereal, like his skin is no longer capable of tanning in sunlight. Still, Thomas longs to touch him, run his tongue over the sharp lines, and kiss every stunning contour.

“Y/n…” Thomas softly shakes your shoulder as you are still whimpering facedown in his lap. When you weakly raise your head, he nods for you to turn over and see the show you have been missing, Benedict now reaching for the buttons on his britches.

Lethargically, you flip over, your head cradled in Thomas’ lap as your eyes fall upon the man, and you inhale sharply. Benedict seemingly stares you both down as he lowers his britches, a smirk on his face entirely immodest. And when the material relents, you understand why. 

Thomas’ cock pulses against your neck at the sight. He knows you have seen precisely one cock in your life, his, and this may come as a shock. It's larger and prettier, objectively than his own. You nuzzle him, biting your lip as you twist to look back up at him, eyes wide with concern.

“You can take it, darling,” he reassures, intuiting your apprehension as his knuckles brush calmingly over your cheek.

”As will you,” Benedict adds darkly, addressing Thomas. You watch your husband visibly gulp. Then you do the same, tongue feeling too large in your mouth, as Benedict mounts the bed and crawls predatory over your body, a sinful, crooked smile that is at once gorgeous and scary, that cock bobbing ominously as he draws nearer.

—

You feel butterflies under your ribs, unable to look away from his cock, suddenly nervous about the idea he might fuck you. Thomas is a perfect fit; it never hurts and feels designed to bring you gratification, but that? 

It might be too much.

“Don't pretend you don't want me, little one,” Benedict boasts, edged with a darkness that is almost chilling.

“I-I do,” you stutter, unable not to speak the truth, your legs falling wider open reflexively.

“I know, I could smell you from 500 yards away; it drew me in like a clarion call,” he sighs wistfully, and it doesn't sound like he is exaggerating. 

Benedict roughly grabs both of your legs and pushes them up and apart, making you gasp. Leaning over, he draws Thomas into a sinful kiss above you, making you mewl slightly at the sight, a burn in your tendons from the position, head now pulled out of Thomas’s lap onto the mattress.

“Hold her ankles,” Benedict orders over Thomas’s lips, gesturing to take over the hold. “Keep her wide and open for me, my prince,” he purrs as he leans away to slide a pillow under your shoulders, your head tilted backwards.

“Why like this?” you ask falteringly, feeling odd staring at Thomas's thigh upside down.

“So your husband can easily use your mouth as I fuck you, little one,” he explains calmly, hands now raking your flesh as he pulls you into position.

Nerves flare brightly in your belly, Thomas’s grip around your ankles harsh as he holds you so wide open. Then, there is intense pressure around your weeping hole. You whimper, your body quivering at Benedict’s attempted entry. He reaches up and touches your temple with two fingers, and the strangest thing happens; a preternatural calm soothes your mind, breath slowing, body pliant, racing now with nothing but want.

“Good girl,” Benedict tutors as he slips inside your body, the invasion blunt, the stretch as thrilling as it is raw. 

He keeps pushing, the heat and size so much you can think of nothing else, even as Thomas shuffles closer, his cock nudging your chin, also demanding entry. 

For someone innocent merely days ago, you willingly, excitedly, let both men slide into you at either end, your husband stealing your breath as he invades your mouth deeply, Benedict pushing you so wide you can feel him moving below your belly button as he bottoms out. 

You feel them lean in towards each other above, Thomas sliding deeper as the sound of them kissing fills the air. You ache to see them, their mouths hot and entwined, but all you can do is close your eyes, swamped in sensation, so much hypnotic heat and scent. Fingers, you don't even know whose, pinch your nipples as both whisper your praises as they start to move in tandem, rocking into and out of your body in the same rhythm. They start slow, allowing you to draw breaths around Thomas' tip before he slides deep.

The drag of Benedict’s cock makes you moan; you can feel every contour and vein, your channel clinging tight to him, a noise of slickened suction as your body struggles to accommodate him.

But they begin to move faster, and you have to breathe through your nose, the insistent press of Thomas’ balls giving you limited air. The struggle makes it heady and soporific, like you can’t get enough and wants to die right here with both men buried deep inside you. You writhe as pleasure courses in your veins. Already pushed so close to coming, pliant and obedient to their use.

—

Benedict looks down upon the filled body of the woman beneath him and groans. Your cunt, such a tight wet vice surrounding him, delicious squelching sounds as he plunders you with increasing speed. Your plush lips wrapped around your husband's cock, your throat exposed and dewy with sweat, his teeth itching to sink into the vein bulging prominently as you fight to take him as well as swallow and breathe. He can’t help but reach down and run a sharp-pointed fingernail over your diaphragm, fascinated by the play of delicate muscle and bone as you ripple under his touch. 

“Such a good little thing, and only recently plucked; you are a lucky man,” Benedict opines, his voice gravelly even to his own ears, looking up again to the man in front of him.   

“Yes, I am,” Thomas agrees, and Benedict sees the imploring look in his eyes, begging for another kiss.

“Come here, sweet prince,” Benedict murmurs, feeling a spike of victory as Thomas effusively leans in, lips glistening, flushed and plump.

As they kiss anew, Benedict runs a fang over that juicy lip, wanting to sink down and bite, feeling his life force pulsing so strong right there underneath ripe, fleshy fibres. Thomas's hands twine around Benedict’s neck, his tongue tentative, asking for entry, and Benedict swirls and sucks upon it greedily, only breaking when he hears your attempted gurgling of words, your hands wrapped around your husband’s fuzzy thighs, requesting reprieve.

“Slide deeper; make her take it just a touch longer,” he growls into Thomas's ear, teething his lobe. “She will be feisty, but the lack of air will deliver her so close to rapture,” he counsels as Thomas thrusts and holds still. You start to struggle with muffled calls of increasing urgency. “Now slide out,” Benedict advises moments later, and Thomas follows his bidding. 

Benedict moans as your whole body judders as you gulp deep breaths. “Perfect. Oh, my prince, you should feel how tight she gets when she’s fighting to breathe; dear god, it’s the best kind of pain.” He stutters, tone deep, wrecked, stupefied by the grip of your convulsing cunt.

What a perfect little thing. I want her as mine.

—

Thomas is also panting, the tightness of your throat squeezing him so close to orgasm for what feels like countless times tonight. He falls back against the headboard instead. To watch. To watch you, his once angelic wife, be taken, wrecked, destroyed by this gorgeous creature. 

Your eyes shoot open as you realise he has withdrawn. 

“Husband,” you reach a shaky hand up above your head, glad when he takes it, watching your body roll with each punishing thrust Benedict takes, his eyes seemingly fixed upon the hammering pulsing in your neck as you ratchet higher, his tongue slipping out of his mouth in a wanton glistened point.

Just as you are pushing your hips into each thrust, screaming with ecstasy, Benedict pulls out, and Thomas feels your anguish as you suddenly cry out, your whole being heaving with unmet needs, eyes pleading.

“Do you miss my cock already, little one?” he preens, trailing your own musky juices over your belly as he teasingly passes his cock over your heated skin.

You nod viciously and growl, Thomas barely recognising you—a creature reborn of pure lust and submission. Craving this man in a way that makes jealousy and want war uneasily in Thomas’ gut. You have never been this feral for him,  your husband, but yet he completely sympathises, feeling the same pangs of want to be taken, wrecked, destroyed endlessly by this thing resembling a man.

“Alas, that is your misfortune, my beautiful thing, for ‘tis your husband's turn now,” the cold glint in his eyes and the harsh lines of his razor-sharp cheekbone glowing as yet again he leaves you a whining, whimpering mess, your body leaking, your voice hoarse, more wild animal than woman. As Thomas lifts his gaze from you writhing to Benedict, one thought haunts his very being with a growing disquiet.

What exactly are you, if not man?

—

You feel inhuman, something clawing at the edges of your mind that feels like madness. A desire to be possessed by this man. Your insides branded as his. So when he withdraws just as you are fluttering once again, it feels like insanity, like sandpaper drags over your brain, your toes and fingers stiff from flexing so hard in utter wretchedness.

This is ecstatic torture.

“Please, my Count,” it’s forlorn, ragged, almost not recognisable as your own voice, your throat still sore from the harsh tip of your husband's cock.

“No, little one, it’s only right you should take your husband's seed, not mine,” he clucks, even as he rakes his hands covetously over your sweaty body, his tone sounding reluctant as if trying to convince himself as much as you.

“Sweet prince, claim your wife,” he calls, clamping a hand around Thomas's neck, compelling him to slide over you.

He does as bidden, and you groan as the familiar stretch of your husband's cock overtakes your senses. Not nearly as punishing or brutal as Benedict, but curved perfectly to glance at that spot inside that makes you clamp down and scream with every pass.

“Darling,” Thomas's familiar voice whispers in your ear, and it’s a balm you need, centring you on him and his lovely face, moving over you in a surging wave.

“Thomas, my love,” you call, wrapping your limbs around him and taking comfort in his embrace, his body, familiar and musky, a flavour you know well dripping on your tongue as you kiss his salty neck, mumbling encouragements, your heels digging into his bottom.

Benedict watches you from behind, and when you look beyond Thomas, you see eyes inky black with desire, fingers ghosting Thomas’s back as if wanting to flay his skin open.

“Are you ready for me, my prince?” Benedict purrs in a way that makes even you shudder, unable to look away from his tongue as it slides into Thomas’ ear.

—

Benedict reaches for the vial before Thomas even moans his weak assent. The smell of clove swirls as he unseals a small vial and pours it down Thomas’ crack. 

He can taste how much Thomas wants this, a heavy fug of desire in the air that is his pheromones begging more than his words ever might. 

Thomas shudders, and his movements falter as Benedict slides a finger between his cheeks and swirls the oil over his heated skin, over his puckered hole and his balls. 

Benedict can feel the weight of your stare over Thomas’s shoulder. Intrigue and desire. You have likely never seen a man fuck another man. Certainly not your husband. Certainly not while he is inside you. 

Little one, hold on tight.

—

Thomas is staring into your eyes when Benedict’s cock slides between his cheeks, demanding entry.

He knows he has stilled his movements, and his breathing is ragged and uneven as that long-forgotten breach occurs. He groans loudly; it's the largest he has ever had inside him, and the burn is intense.

“Are you alright, my love?” you call, holding his face delicately and stroking his cheek.

“It’s intense, my love,” he answers through gritted teeth and a shaky exhale as Benedict keeps inching slowly into him. 

He’s never had his cock buried in someone while being fucked before; intense exhilaration and so much stimulation. To fuck and be fucked simultaneously.

When Benedict bottoms out, Thomas collapses onto you, his elbows sinking into the mattress under your armpits, his hands clenched in fists over your breasts.

You reach for one and pries open his fingers, silently bringing the hand to your mouth and kissing then sucking his fingers as if his cock, a tease that titillates and distracts as Benedict starts to rock in and out of him. Thomas cannot look away from your mouth, your pleading eyes no doubt telegraphing your devotion and lust.

My darling wife…

—

You feel the moment Benedict moves within your husband, his motion a catalyst to the slide of Thomas's cock within you.

He has found a way to fuck us both.

It is all your mind can think as you watch your husband's face contort a thousand ways, rapture and fear, his whole body becoming a puppet stuck between you and the Count.

“Can you feel that?” Benedict growls, staring you down, eyes black now.

“Y-Yes,” you stumble, seeing something wild in him that genuinely scares you now, your tummy oily even as your clit twinges with pleasure, your husband's cock being driven into you at a pace that you know will make you come within moments.

“Good… don’t you dare look away from me,” Benedict growls when your eyes stray to Thomas.

You obey but watch with growing disquiet as he smiles wickedly wide. Two extended ivory fangs glow in the low flickering firelight. His tongue licks over them provocatively, drawing your attention.

What in God's name?

“God can’t help you now, little one,” Benedict sniggers ominously, and your heart pounds that he can read your mind. “Indeed I can,” he winks, making you gasp.

You are trapped. Trapped under your almost rag doll-like husband, his groans gusting hot into your neck now as he is slumped over you, being fucked so harshly by Benedict, hips snapping as he stares you down, pointed nails scraping down Thomas’s back, his entire mien a sinister seductive leer.

“You are mine, both of you,” Benedict declares. It’s dark, possessive, unearthly. 

Confusion rips through your being as, for the first time, you see something other than man—a creature. Utterly terrifying, beguiling, erotic. A shadow moves over his face that is all menace and not of this world. Yet, at the same time, your body is so close to ecstasy, a taut thread holding all your muscles so close to breaking. Horror, fear, lust, and want are a continuous swirling loop in your very being.

Time slows, treacle-like, as you start to convulse despite yourself, taken over the edge by the carnal push and pull of Benedict fucking your husband into your body. Clinging tight to Thomas, you watch in slow-motion as Benedict leans down, those fangs looming large. Then, you feel a searing, sharp pang as they make contact with the meat of your arm, where it is wound around Thomas’s neck. Utter terror grips your heart, even as a flood of chemicals so strong courses into your bloodstream. Strong suction over the wound has you screaming, pure unbridled ecstasy, euphoria coursing in every fibre even as it dawns on you far too late precisely what he is.

VAMPIRE!

—

Benedict has only known immortality for a few months when he tastes his forever. Your blood floods his mouth, and it is the nectar he has been seeking since his turn. The thing that calms and sates him. The sweet delight that means he will never leave your side: he is yours. He will feed from others, for sure, but he is imprinted upon you forever now. He shall always be careful never to drink too much to kill you; he needs this taste more than anything, and just a few drops will be enough to keep him sustained.

“My goddess,” he moans, making your eyes pop open, fear but something else, too, swimming in your depths. It's not revulsion; it's anything but–it's yearning, even from your trance-like bliss.

He stops sucking before you lose too much blood; it’s just enough to make you light-headed and extend your rapture. He can feel you convulsing, Thomas’s limp body a conduit for your intense orgasm. Buried deep in Thomas, closing his eyes and feeling the pulses as you milk your husband’s cock, him just awash and pliant, sandwiched between you.

Benedict feels from inside the moment Thomas breaks, feels his balls contract and his pelvis ripple as he groans loud and long, his seed forcibly painting your insides. It’s futility to resist the urge to feast again. Meeting your hungry, consuming gaze as you crest a secondary wave, he sinks his fangs into the nape of Thomas’s neck, the man calling out lustily. And as he sucks greedily, Benedict falters and moans hard. It's like Thomas’ flavour is the other puzzle piece he needs. The ying to your yang. Together, the taste in his mouth is a symphony. A magnum opus, what feels like the very reason he now exists such as he does.

“My prince, my king,” he garbles, roughly suckling from Thomas's neck, watching the crimson line of blood ooze down his spine and licking it covetously, wantonly, his very purpose.

And it's the catalyst that flings him into the cauldron too, a shuddering snap that consumes his whole body and has him coming so hard he cannot hold himself on his knees anymore, slumping onto Thomas, panting as he empties, a visceral unloading that feels like the very best catharsis.

—

You have never known paradise like this. A continuous loop of thrill; every time you think it is over, you feel first your darling Thomas and then your beautiful nightmare Benedict come, and it pushes you over another precipice. Each is as precious and encompassing as the last. 

The weight of them both slumped upon you as the shudder is something you cannot withstand, and you have to call out in protest. Somehow almost preternaturally, they rearrange around you, a tangle of limbs, sweat, cum and blood entwined like a knot of vipers as you all find a comfortable hold, panting hard from the exertion.

“What are you??” you demand, ragged, staring Benedict down around Thomas, who seems to be hovering semi-conscious, his face a picture of complete rapture.

A finger traces down your cheek as he does the same to Thomas, which you track askance. 

“Darling precious, you already know. I’m your worst dream masquerading as your perfect fantasy,” he chimes. “And I am yours forever.”

“To which of us do you speak?” you gulp, barely able to form the words; your whole world tilted and forever changed.

“You see, therein lies the beauty,” Benedict smiles, running the edge of his incisors first over Thomas’s neck as he groans drowsily, then yours, making you inhale sharply. “I speak of both of you.”

Thomas twists and places a sleepy, sated kiss on you and then Benedict.

“Enthralling, is not, my love?” Thomas slurs, nuzzling you both. “We have our very own creature of the night.”

“You knew?!” you stutter, disbelief warring with every other emotion alive in your body.

“Mmm,” he hums peacefully. “I knew on some level from the moment he kissed me. And yet here we are. Hearts still beating, bodies utterly sated. This is the best possible outcome. I, for one, cannot wait for every adventure with our delicious Vampire,” Thomas lazily pats Benedict's cheek, who smiles and kisses his temple. 

You are rendered speechless.

“Come on, y/n, my goddess,” Benedict goads, his tone dusky and irresistible as his lips ghost your husband’s, his long pale fingers smearing a droplet of blood into your breast, spidering over your flesh in a way that already has your cunt swelling again. “I am yours. And I can give you such pleasures every night,” he promises.

Well, that is perhaps the most enthralling prospect of all.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

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[natalie668]

Lost Girl

Lost boys fanfic, will be multi-chapter fic.

Lost boys (Michael as well) x reader.

Watching them through your dream had you worried, most people have 1 or 2 soulmates. You believed 3 is the max amount recorded, yet here you are dreaming of 5 men, well if you can call guys in their 20's men.

Sitting up in bed, you peered over at your phone. It hadn't long stopped beeping its annoying tune, it's 7am and you had to hurry up and get ready for work. Rubbing your eyes you swing your legs over the side of the bed, you peer down at the 5 names written on your arm; Michael, David, Marko, Paul & Dwayne. Supposedly the order of names in when you will meet each of them.

You have yet to meet a single one of your soulmates, but you guessed that having only just had your birthday 2 weeks prior it wouldn't really give you much time to have met them anyway.

Walking out of your quaint little bedroom, you make your way over to the bathroom, stripping off you begin turning the knob on the shower toas hot as it can go, (which really is pitiful) the landlord still hasn't been and fixed it even though you had alerted him to the fact its been playing up since you had moved in when you'd turned 20. You guess you can't rush these things.

After you've gotten yourself ready, you set off to work, you've been working as a receptionist in a Library since you had turned 18. You had been to college and finished between the time of finishing high school and turning 21.

As you make your way through the busy town, you can't help but sigh seeing the various couples holding hands making their own ways to work. Every day you see it, heck you even see it with working in the library. You can't help but just wish that one day you'd meet your own soulmates.

The work day went quickly, answering phones, scanning books through which people came and dropped off, passing books onto those who placed them on the correct shelves.

There was a thunder storm wracking through the sky as you made your way home, you were not going to spend a fortune getting a taxi and get stuck in traffic just to go 7 streets over. just as your were rushing past a tree when an almighty bright light shot straight in front of you hitting the tree a massive crack was the last thing you heard and an almighty pain and didn't see again.

~*~*~*~*~

The first thing you heard was screams, and the second thing you noticed was the fact you were lying on a beach, you could feel the grains of sand underneath your fingers, peering down at yourself you were wearing the same clothes you had gone to work in, yet you were nowhere near home, the nearest beach was 200 miles away and you don't think you would have not noticed going in a car to get there. So where the hell were you.

Standing up brushing the sand off my clothes, I looked towards where I could make out some steps, I set off to see where the hell I had turned up.

As soon as I got to the steps I could see rides, people dressed like they were from the 80s and a lot of people running around. I stumbled forward heading towards a shop which I could see had a newspaper stand out front like I'd seen in American movies. I peer in and spot the year 1987, I stared in shock, I looked to the top corner, it said 'Santa Carla' I felt like I was going to throw up, I could feel myself getting light headed. I stumbled over to a bench and placed my head in my hands.

I had somehow ended up in America in the late 80s, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?

I peered around trying not to throw up, my brain was going a million miles a minute, how the hell had I gone back in time. The last thing I remembered was walking home in the thunder storm and seeing a bright light and then nothing.

I panic, feeling my chest, my arms trying to find burn marks, nothing appeared to be on me, 'I must have died' I couldn't help thinking. 'How else would I have ended up going back in time, to freaking America'. A sob escaped my lips, I couldn't believe this was really happening, I pinched myself sharply on the arm to double check I wasn't dreaming.

I stand up from the bench when I finally feel like my heart isn't going to beat out of my chest, I slowly walk down what appears to be some sort of boardwalk, I get towards the end and lean against some metal bars which over looked the sea. Wiping the tears from my face I start to worry about where I am going to sleep tonight, how I'm going to live.

A sharp pain slices through my arm, I look down at my arm, the name 'Michael' is practically glowing red'. Turning around I spot another person grabbing their arm in pain, his eyes meet my own, his head turns to look me in the eyes as he steps towards me, "Hi, I'm Michael," he says as he takes a tentative step towards me. You can tell he's nervous, hell; I'm nervous. I've just gone back in time, and now I'm meeting on of my soulmates?!

"Uhm, nice to meet you, I'm Y/N" I say stumbling over my words, I look him up and down, he's pretty; wild dark hair, dark eyes. He's beautiful. I can't help but feel plain while stood next to him.

He steps towards me, his hand caresses my arm, in the spot where my soulmate mark is, he looks towards my arm and spots the names written on there. A frown marred his features, he slowly takes in the names; his frown turns into a scowl. It makes his face seem to take a different look, his eyes seeming to yellow out of nowhere, which surely must be the light?

His fingers grasp my wrist bringing it closer to his face, he looks up at me, "I think you should come with me, y/n." he says as he looks around at his surroundings like he's expecting someone to jump out at any moment.

Chapter 2

#the lost boys paul #the lost boys dwayne #lost boys1987 #lost boys x reader #lost boys poly x reader #lost boys 1987 #the lost boys marko #the lost boys david #the lost boys fanfiction #lost boys #the lost boys #david x reader #Dwayne x reader #marko x reader #paul x reader #vampire fanfiction

[thebelugawhalefriend]

Yandere Vampire Lesbian x Reader

CW: NSFW, Yandere themes, Female reader, Blood

Note: I love girls (vampire's name is Fiona ^^)

You were a humble gardener for the nobles, she was a distant watcher in the shadows. Her skin was so pale and sensitive to the light you indulged in, and yet she couldn't help but risk it all to see you. Sun kissed skin that was spotted with freckles. How soft would it be to her touch? To her teeth? Don't think you could get away with that scent of blood that came from your open cuts.

Fiona kept pacing the floor time and time again. If she simply indulged herself by taking you, surely you'd despise her for taking you away from the sun. She can't just keep watch of you outside in daylight! There's way too much shadow here, and going elsewhere would just open up an opportunity for your escape.

One night, she snuck right to your window and watched as you slept peacefully. Fiona's hunger yearns to pierce your veins, but her love wanted nothing more than to stroke your hair. Just the thought of seeing you so vulnerable... It was embarrassing to admit, but she was working herself up just thinking about it.

She couldn't take it anymore!

Sliding the window open, Fiona slips herself in and prepares what she can for her crime of passion. Ties you right up with what she can and keeps you sleeping the entire time. The hardest part came when she was carrying you out and had to evade the dogs that chase her down the street. After all, turning into a bat or feline would mean she couldn't carry you...

"Miss Mildred...?" You groan and sit up from the plush bed. Mildred, your main boss, usually kept you holed up in her spare bedroom until your job began. But this isn't the harsh straw bed... This felt like... "Wool? That can't be..." Wool is far too valuable for Mildred to gift you! She would never wrap you in this... Room.

"Darling! You're awake!" A pale skinned, white haired woman stands in the doorway. Purple eyes glinting with excitement and enlarged fangs poking from her mouth. Wait- fangs?!

"Darling?! Just where-" Fiona holds a finger to her mouth, glaring at you playfully to quiet down. "Hush now, you don't want to disturb the sheets. We'll make them messy together!"

"Ma'am..." You shift yourself backwards on the bed, looking down to discover one of your arms are chained to the bed. "I think you've got the wrong girl! Please, I haven't done anything!"

"Shhh, calm down... I'm not going to hurt you, my love. I wouldn't dare feed on someone so soft hearted without their permission." Fiona leans down to crawl onto the bed. It's only when she's leaning over you that you realize how TALL she is. Not just above average, but a staggering six feet of vampire. Not to mention some of the toned muscles that poked through the exposing parts of her black dress.

Her pale hand came to grip your face, "I've got just the gardener I want. Those stunning eyes are so beautiful up close, darling. Mind if I get a taste of you?" Her grip makes it hard to even speak, but some part of you was curious what would happen if you went along. Your somewhat relaxed posture invites her to place a soft kiss to your lips. "Divine..."

Purple eyes flicker below towards your tight button up shirt. She can see every lovely detail and outline of your body. Would the rest of you stay as smooth as your lips? Or would it be a fun adventure for her fingers to glide along? Fiona's body shivered at the thought.

"I can just smell your excitement, my dear. You've got to give me the whole experience!"

Her voice is so exciting and alluring. You can't even find the words to say yes or no. Nimble fingers slip off your shirt one by one until you're fully exposed to her. All that's left now is your cute little bra, to which she first teases you by rubbing your breast gently through it. "So cute..." Fiona whispers to herself, her other hand reaching to get your bra undone.

"I-I don't even know your name..." This is all you can muster, but it does stop Fiona from undressing you for a moment to look up into your eyes. "Does it truly matter, my love? I know all about you... Your own name, your job, and even your pets! Forget what you need to know, you'll find out once I've had my fill."

With that, she throws your bra right to the side and keeps one hand on one of your breasts. Of course she wanted to keep pleasing you, but it's hard not to indulge in your flavor! To not just leave you a complete mess! Your body squirms and twists as her other hand reaches below to feel you through your panties. Miss Mildred always made sure to keep you in skirts whether you liked it or not. Now, it just serves as an easy access for this horny vampire.

"Do you want this, my dear? Say the word and I'll make it happen." Her movements pause for a moment to let you answer. On one hand, this strange lady kidnapped you and is now insisting you let her please you. On the other... "Please..." Your voice is weak and unsure, to which she takes the hand from your breast and holds your face close to hers. "Please what?" "I... I want you to..."

"Want me to?"

"Want you to k-keep going...!"

"Perfect."

It's not even a second later and she's got your panties thrown to the side. Her hands now push your thighs aside to push her head in-between them. A skilled tongue now pressing on your clit first to get you soaked. Your words start to mumble off from making some sense to no sense. Your body weakly shivers for her every touch and move.

Fangs lightly graze the outside as her tongue presses inside. God, you're amazing to taste! Enhanced by the fact that your period must be coming soon. A subtle iron taste indicates such. Now her little session is less about pleasing you and moreso feeding her undying hunger for you. Fangs digging in a little to keep you from moving away while her tongue lapped at anything she could get. Arousal, mostly, but maybe hints of the blood that she could taste. Your sweet noises of guilty pleasure only drove her harder and harder to eat you out until your pussy was a clean plate.

"M-miss, please!" You practically scream, shaking and shuddering towards that familiar feeling. She knows damn well you're getting close, but she doesn't care. Fiona's pure hunger ravages you for any more taste. It's only until a little after your last cry of pleasure and rush of liquids that she slows down to lap up what comes out. The proud vampire lifts up from between your legs with a large smile, licking her fangs.

"My darling, your taste is stunning! You're so adorable~" She sits up to pinch your cheek, proud to see you a blushing mess. "Promise me you'll give me a taste tomorrow..."

#vampire fanfiction #vampire x reader #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere crush #yandere #yandere vampire #yan vampire x reader #yandere vampire x reader #vampire imagine

[sonderrealization]

lil drabbley thing :P with a vampire bf :P a bit of nsfw towards the middle

vampire bf who so longingly holds you in his arms, as if you'd slip away with the lightest movement.. wrapped up in your embrace threatening never to let you go, perhaps even whispering sweet nothings into your ear

vampire bf who treats you like royalty, like you were made to be worshipped by his hands, something so fragile was never meant to be treated roughly..

vampire bf who spoils you rotten, his riches all for you to spend. any luxury you want, he'll buy, he'll give you anything.

vampire bf who'd happily cook for you if you wanted, didn't you say you wanted that complicated meal but were too tired to make it?

vampire bf who cares only for your pleasure. you have all the power even if he's in 'control', just beg him with that honey sweet voice of yours and he'll do just about anything. he lives to pleasure you in all the ways you've ever wanted, just please please please don't make him stop, you sound so pretty calling his name.

vampire bf who has the best aftercare, even if you're spent where you can't even function on your own, he'll take care of you. give you all the loving and cuddles you deserve, after a good bath and massage to soothe your body.

vampire bf who rarely indulges in your sweet blood, saying he could "never feed off of someone so magnificent", fearing he lose control the moment he finally, finally gets a taste... though hearing your blood coursing through your veins, your heart pumping your pretty, warm, body with its nectar, it was such a temptation. though, if you really begged and gave him puppy eyes, he would. how could he possibly resist?

vampire bf who is eternally yours, who could never see a future without you even in death, you're his one and only. why would he dare to live past the day your light leaves this earth?

#sonder writes #vampire x human #vampire x reader #vampire x you #vampire fanfiction #vampire fic #vampire writing #teratophillia

[vampiresbloodbag]

Vampires are so hot, like hear me out for a second. Them holding ur waist while they drink ur blood pulling ur body closer to theirs, praising you for how well ur taking it.

#vampcore #vampire anime #vampire fantasy #dark academia #vampire fangs #vampirism #vampirekin #gothic #vampire aesthetic #vampirecore #vampire imagine #vampire fanfiction #vampire story

[entitled-fangirl]

Are you scared of me, Princess?

Jasper Hale x human!reader

Summary: The reader sees the scars on Jasper's arms, prompting him to tell her the truth.

Words: 1,646

Warnings: talk of murder, vampire stuff idk, scars, cursing

Author's note: God this is angsty. Someone get 8th-grade me in here right now because this is what she thought she was reading at her age.

Masterlist &lt;3

.......................................................

Jasper sat in the bed placed in his room, his mate resting her back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her waist and his face found its way into her hair. Her hands were placed on top of his on her waist, relishing in the feeling of comfort he gave her.

They were a strange pair, the two. The bloodthirsty vampire fighting his instincts to feed and the helpless human girl who wouldn’t be able to fight him if she tried. 

But she trusted him with her whole heart. It had been hard at first. She had to marinate in the knowledge of the existence of vampires, and he suffered the constant smell of her sweet scent, calling out to him every second.

It was so hard for him, even on a good day. Her smell of her blood always drew him in. 

The only thing holding him back from draining her was the feeling he knew he wouldn’t fight the minute her body became lifeless: dread.

But now, they laid in each other’s arms in complete trust. 

Her hand wandered up his forearm, stopping at the unevenness of his skin. She looked down, pulling his sleeve up briefly.

Bite marks and scratches laid all up and down his forearm. She didn’t want to know how far up his arm it went, thankful for the sleeve.

She felt him shift. He felt uncomfortable. Scared of her reaction. But above all else, he cared for her. She could practically feel his gift poking at her emotions, intertwining them with his. A sense of calmness fell over the two of them before words could form.

Her hand still laid against his arm gently, her thumb brushing one of the bites to comfort him in her own way.

She felt his head move away from hers, leaning back against the bed frame. She used this opportunity to turn in his grip, now facing him. Once there, she pulled his arm into her lap, her eyes inspecting the scars in front of her. 

He simply watched. He couldn’t hide them, and he would never lie. Not to her. So, he simply sat there to let her ask him or draw her own conclusions.

She finally looked up, her eyes locking on his. She’s thankful of his gift, because otherwise, she may have been teary-eyed. “T….Tell me, Jasper?”

His eyes softened. God, she was so good to him. So perfect. So innocent and pure. Everything he knew he wasn’t.

Her blood would be so easy to take. The feeling of adrenaline would be worth the-

“It’s… a long story, Princess. I don’t think you wanna hear it.”

She was visibly hurt by his answer, her hand retreating from his. “Oh. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry… I just… just thought…”

He chuckles to himself, teasing her, “Thought what, Princess? You really wanna know?”

She nods, her eyes glossy, holding an unreadable expression.

He sighs. He wanted to hold off from telling her this. That was his plan. But now, she had ruined the perfect plan in his head. Not that he could be mad at her. His heart couldn’t do that.

He pulls his sleeve up his other arm, showing her the scarring. “D’you know much about the Civil War, Darlin’?”

She nods, her eyes never leaving his forearm. 

He smiles, “Good girl. Knew you would.” He took a deep breath, not that he needed to, but it allowed him to collect himself and decide what to say. “I was turned during the Civil War. A woman named Maria convinced me to help her train a vampire army. I was foolish and naive. I thought she was doing the right thing.”

He looked up at her to gauge her reaction. She simply stared at the scars, her head low in thought. He took this as a sign to continue.

“You know.. I was, uh, a major, in the war?”

Her head perked up at that, her eyes meeting his. “A..a major?”

He smirked, “Yeah. Major Jasper Whitlock.” As he said so, she felt a wave of pride come from his body. She didn’t need Jasper’s gifts to sense it, for it had come so plain. 

He continued, “I trained them myself. Her army, I mean. I know you don’t know much about us, but newborn vampires are more dangerous. More deadly. They’re stronger than most.” As he said this, she could feel his tone becoming sharper. 

“Stronger than Emmett?”

He nods, “Yes, Princess. Much stronger. You stay away from a newborn.” It had meant to be advice, but it came out a demand. “They’re more deadly than you can imagine. I’ve watched them do…” his eyes look off in thought, “…unspeakable things…”

A small silence overtakes them before she breaks it. “And you trained them?”

His eyes quickly move back to hers, the amber color glowing, “Yes, ma’am.”

“How?”

“Not easily. They don’t take too well, as you can see,” he said, his head motioning forward at his arms. “I punished them, too. Killed them when they got out of hand or weren’t what we needed.”

He feared to look up at her, but he couldn’t resist. Her gaze was on the window. He didn’t often wish for a gift different than his, but at this moment, he wished he could read her mind. See what was going on in that lovely little human brain of hers. But he couldn’t. He sensed she wasn’t distressed. He had to see her eyes to be sure. Not for his gift’s sake, but for his own. His hand outstretched to grab her jaw gently, pulling it towards his own. “Are you scared of me?”

Her eyes catch his, their faces a foot apart. “…Sh…should I be, Jasper?”

He considers her question quickly with a nod, his voice low. “Really fucking scared.”

She blinks at his wording, her brain struggling to comprehend everything in front of her. 

He wanted to joke, take the dark mood away, but he knew this was serious. “I killed before this,” he gestured to himself, “I killed during this…. I’ll probably have to kill sometime after this. I’ve murdered many with no remorse, their bodies laying at my feet. Innocent lives and murders, too. I overpowered the strongest vampires with ease, ending them mercilessly. My heart holds no mercy. So, I’ll ask again. Are you scared of me?”

She wasn’t sure what to think. She couldn’t put it into words. Was she scared? She supposed so. Any sane person would be. But she trusted him. She trusted him. She trusted him. “You… You won’t hurt me, Jasper.”

He wanted to laugh at her sweet response. How naive of his little lamb. She said it so sure of herself. Of him. She didn’t know of the constant, deep thirst of blood he fought back every time their eyes met. She didn’t know of the pain he felt when she parted from him. She didn’t know of the horrors he had endured. And most importantly, she would never understand the terrors he had caused.

“You don’t know that, Princess.”

She took a quick breath in at his response. Every reasonable thought she ever had was gone. She should run. She should hide. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t. Her body remained here, on the vampire’s bed, his hand gripping her jaw while staring at her like she was prey. Every reasonable thought was gone.

She reached her hand up to place on top of his on her jaw, flinching at the cold feeling of his skin on hers. “You won’t, Jasper.” She began to even sound confident.

He smiled at her, his sharp teeth peeking out. This girl believes in him that much. What a stupid girl. Too trusting. Too hopeful. Too pretty. Too good. Too perfect. He could absolutely ruin her. But he wouldn’t. “C’mon, Princess. Admit you’re a little afraid.” He needed to hear her say it.

Her hand gripped his, pushing it down her jaw lightly until it rested over her throat. His hand now wrapped around her neck, her hand lightly resting on his. 

He was speechless at her touches. Her movements. Her willingness. Her loyalty to him. His eyes stare at his own hand, admiring the view in front of him. Her hopeful eyes staring into his while his hand rested above her only source of oxygen. It was intimate. It was scary. It was perfect. She was perfect. 

His thumb brushed her throat lightly, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his touch. He could practically feel the blood running through her veins. And she trusted him still. 

They sat there in silence for a while, simply admiring the other. 

She was perfect. Too innocent for her own good, but so loyal and willing for him. Her pretty face was the perfect view for him. He could stare at it until the end of his days. And she trusted him with her life. 

She trusted him with the one thing his body thirst to destroy. And he loved her all the more for it.

He was strong. Resilient. An open book for her to read at her leisure. Protective was a word she was familiar with. She felt like his arms were the only thing she needed to live in the world. She trusted him with her life.

His other arm moved up her body, his hand getting lost in the hair on the back of her head. He pushes her forward, capturing her lips in his. 

The hand on her neck stayed. But it never twitched. 

They pulled away from each other to let her catch her breath. Their faces were close as they tried to think of the right words to say.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. She wasn’t afraid of him. 

................................................................

#twilight imagines #twilight fanfiction #twilight #twilight x reader #twilight x y/n #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x you #jasper hale x y/n #major jasper whitlock #vampire #vampire imagine #vampire fanfiction #jasper hale fanfiction #the cullens #vampirism #light angst #fanfiction #fanfic

[twinszka]

TORMENT — 01

WARNINGS: STRICTLY 18+. MDNI. themes of horror, death, demons, vampires, alcohol, fear, cursing, smoking, choking, smut will be indicated when it is included. feel free to message me if i forgot any warnings.

hi! this part is purposefully shorter than the other parts. i have a few more written, and plan on continuing this as a project depending on its success. please share with friends and enjoy!

—

I watched as raindrops bounced off the window pane, my head resting comfortably in the palm of my hand. My legs were sprawled out across my best friend Aubrey’s lap, and the rest of our friends were sitting around the coffee table playing what seemed like a never ending game of cards.

I had invited everyone over for dinner since this would be the first full weekend I would be spending in my new home, and I figured company would be a nice comfort in this new season of life. We ordered takeout, watched two movies, and did face masks together while we conversed about which games to play. Once the girls had finally made their decisions, I tapped out, more interested in a bottle of wine than whatever else everyone wanted to do. Maybe I should have never invited them over and enjoyed my time alone.

“You know what?” I start, my tone cheerful as I jump up from the sofa. “I think I’ll grab us a bottle of wine.”

A joyful cheer erupts from the five girls in my living room, and I smile as I make my way down the stairs to the basement.

The air is damp, and the stench coming from below feels like a warning. I ignore it and turn my iPhone’s flashlight on to provide myself with at least a sliver of light, though it doesn’t do much. Whoever lived here last didn’t care to clean up, or hadn’t been down here in a while…you can tell by the thick coat of dust covering everything but my unopened boxes.

When I look through the bottles of wine I have collected as housewarming gifts, I notice something sitting on one of the boxes next to me. My head tilts as I move closer and notice the item is a…box? I hum, simultaneously dragging the pads of my fingers across the rosewood. A chill rolls down my spine, causing my whole body to shake.

I quickly grab a bottle of wine, pick up the box to examine later, and start for the steps. Before my feet even touch the first step, a blistering heat emits from the box, causing me to drop it and the bottle of red in my hand.

“Shit!” I whisper-yell, so creeped out by the box I completely forgo cleaning the broken glass and race up the stairs. My mouth falls open when the door slams in front of me and my heart begins pounding against my ribcage. “What the-“

The pace of my breaths quicken, and I place a hand on my chest. I take a step backward, missing the step and almost taking a tumble down the stairs. My heart jumps in my chest. I reach for the door, pounding on it as hard as I can.

“Help! I’m stuck!” I scream, my fist not letting up on the door. “Aubrey!”

I think I hear shuffling behind me, but I will myself into thinking I’m just hearing things. That is, until I hear an unfamiliar voice break through the darkness behind me.

“They can’t hear you scream,” it speaks, deep and sinister.

“Who are you? Please, don’t do this,” I beg as droplets of sweat beginning to form at my brow. This is it. This is how I’m going out. Taken by a random stranger in the basement of my new house. I guess freedom isn’t all it’s chalked up to be.

“Oh, sweetheart,” the voice says, laced with a chuckle. “How did you know I like it when they beg?”

I feel the presence getting closer to me, and tears begin to roll down my cheeks. I continue to scream and pound against the door, confused as to why nobody has come to help.

Once my desperate attempt to call for help proves to do no good, I turn around so my back is facing the door and slide down onto the top step while squeezing my eyes shut. Tears have stained my face at this point, and I just let them fall. I give up, hanging my head and accepting the reality that tonight could be my last night on Earth.

Hot breath grazes the top of my head, and I look up in an attempt to see who or what was tormenting me. But there’s nothing. Nothing but blackness surrounds me. As soon as I think it’s gone, it’s back, wrapping it’s long and icy fingers around my neck and squeezing until I’m seeing stars. I try to choke out words, but my oxygen supply is being cut off quickly, so I make no noise.

Right before my body slumps to the ground, the door swings open and light floods the basement. I gasp for air, clawing at my neck with wide eyes. Scrambling around, I point down the stairs where the thing was, and start to move backwards up the steps. My eyebrows shoot up when I look down at where my encounter occurred and realize there is nothing there. The basement is completely empty.

The girls are shouting my name and snapping fingers in my face, but all the noise is muffled. Two of them have left, and I am left alone with Aubrey and Jenna. My vision blurs, and suddenly I fall into that unfamiliar state of unconsciousness.

—

#greta van fleet #danny wagner #gvf imagine #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny gvf #jake gvf #josh gvf #gvf #jake kiszka fic #vampire #vampire fanfiction #demon jake fic #demon fanfic

[luciferscowgirl]

I’m sorry that some of you who are into reading my crossover stuff had to wait for such a long time to finally read the finalised product, but PART THREE!! of my very mysterious and rather vampiric fanfiction “Until your Mine” is FINALLY up!

Go check it out if you wanna 🤭

I highly recommend reading part 1 & 2 first though if you haven’t already. And if you’ve read them before, maybe do so again to freshen up your memory. It’s worth the “wait”!

🔞 MDNI | NSFW 🔞

#cardinal copia #cardinal copia smut #cardinal copia x female reader #ghost band #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv #ghost band fanfic #the band ghost #dracopia #dracula #bram stoker #bram stocker's dracula #count dracula #vampire #fanfic #vampire fanfiction #vampire fiction #ghost #ghost bc

[celestialspecial]

“It’s the hunt and chase, but then…then it’s the blood. How it washes over your tongue and in that moment you’re no longer immortal. You feel all the best parts of being a vampire but those human experiences and emotions come racing back. It’s overwhelming and it’s-everything. The blood rush.”

Vampire Billy Russo from my Blood Rush series 🧛🏻‍♂️ also this is my art 🖼️ I’m so proud of how it turned out!

Read it here

#billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher au #shadow and bone #the darkling #vampire!billy #vampire!billyrusso #billy russo smut #billy russo x you #billy russo the punisher #frank castle #marvel fanfic #vampire fanfiction #billy russo fanart #ben barnes fanart #the punisher fanart

[jaysgaystuff]

Bite me (18+)

summary: juliette was so excited after y/n agreed to have a gym session together. but she didn’t knew which plans y/n had with her…

warnings: smut (minors do not interact!), rough sex, oral sex, fingering, hematomania (?), staking, bondage, overstimulation, enemies to lovers, pet names | tell me if I forgot something! |

word count: 7,8k

Juliette cannot stop pacing back and forth.

She makes another lap around the living room of her apartment in record time, pushing and kicking the couch, coffee table, bookshelf and anything that isn't bolted to the floor against the wall. Prior to now, she had been a bit sheepish about the square footage of her apartment. It was enough to be going to the most expensive private university in the area without also having this monstrous apartment. Now though, it felt incredibly small. She'd thought to try to set up her office as a work out space, but it had felt suffocating as she anxiously laid on the floor, stretching her arms to ensure that whatever Y/N had planned for them would work seamlessly. In her rational mind she knows that there is nothing to be worried about - there was more than enough room - but the thought of Y/N having to reschedule and leave moments after she'd arrived was giving her something akin to angina.

After taking several breaths she sighed, trying to ground herself. Someone was at the door.

She basically teleported over to it, wringing it open to find a mildly scared delivery man standing there holding a Whole Foods bag. She smiled, tipped him more than the delivery had been worth in cash, bowed for some reason, and then slammed and locked the door in his face to set the bag on the kitchen island. Reverently she removed bananas, kiwi's, a couple of Powerades, water, some birthday cake flavored protein bars, some granola bars, and a couple of vanilla protein shakes. The beverages went into the fridge right away, and she carefully arranged the rest in a basket.

As a vampire she wasn't exactly sure what people ate before or after workouts off the top of her head, but she was more than happy to look it up. Her mother had always impressed on her the importance of being a good host, and she was going to succeed if it killed her. She opened a small slot in the floor of the kitchen near the trash compactor, to expose a tiny refrigerator where she kept the fresh blood her brother Oliver shipped to her. She did not know where it came from, and hoped to never find out.

As it stood, Juliette had only managed to kill 2 people. The first was an accident, and she had not spoken to her older sister, Elinor, since. The second had been a recent LA alumni that had started hanging around Lancaster Academy while she was a junior. Quite a few years ago now since her current stint in graduate school. The boy had gained a heinous reputation for assaulting or harassing more than 10 different girls at different student's parties. One such girl was her classmate who'd come in the next day seeming totally lifeless. It didn't hurt that she'd had just a teeny tiny crush on the poor girl too. When it happened, It had been a case of wrong place, wrong time for both of them. His hands coming toward her in the dark behind a friend's house, no witnesses, and a hell of a migraine that Juliette just couldn't shake.

She gulped down a full handle of a drunk person's O negative blood to calm herself down. Allegedly, it was only .03 BAC, so just enough to chill her out.

Speaking of crushes though…

Juliette walked back into her bathroom and scrutinized herself in the mirror. Ponytail high and tight, a big athletic t-shirt tucked into a pair of spandex compression shorts were the best she could in the time she'd had. Of course she and Ben had run around the local shopping mall looking for he perfect workout fit, but she was ultimately unable to commit to one of the two piece numbers because it wasn't really her style.

As she preened herself, plucking her eyebrows, brushing her teeth again, and glossing her lips, she allowed herself a moment to imagine what Y/N might wear. Lilith knows she's basically a mental archive of the woman's outfits. Of course, as it so often did, her vampiric labido got the best of her and she ended up splashing her face with water to suppress the visions she kept having of them together, tangled up, her hands sliding under taut polyester towards the taller woman's-

*ding*

The brunette ran back into the living room, towards the sound of her phone going off. It occurred to her then, that she had actually lost track of time. Was it already 7:00? She would have heard a knock at the door from the bathroom right? Right. It went off again, allowing her to find it easily through what could best be described as echolocation.

"Right..." She palmed the device and saw that it was 6:58. The first notification had been from her bestie, sending her a gif of two women kissing, with the message [enjoy your "workout"] underneath. This was immediately swiped into oblivion as Juliette massaged her temple. The next was from her father, checking in, asking if she was eating well enough. She loved that guy. But his name was not the one she wanted to see. She wanted to see Y/N, and the very choice emojis she had put next to her name, telling her that she had arrived so that she could...so that she.

All at once as she stood there, it occurred to her just how complicated it was to get into her apartment.

She needed to provide a visitor's pass for parking, know where the visitor parking even was, leave a message with the front desk, and beep Y/N in on the elevator. The only people that Juliette ever had up to her room were Ben and the delivery folks who were already pre-approved……She had plenty of other classmates she spoke to and acquaintances, but none she felt comfortable bringing up into her room. What if they saw something they shouldn't because she was too relaxed?? It was different with Y/N. There was no way she'd ever relax around her. She'd already checked and double checked the whole place 7 times. Sweating, Juliette began typing feverishly. How could she have forgotten this till now?

*Knock, Knock*

She froze. Who could that be?

Gingerly, she walked over to the door. She had never been tall enough to peek through the hole, so she slowly opened it up, only to be graced by Y/N, as beautiful as ever tilting her head to look back at her.

"Hi." She said, adjusting the duffle bag on her shoulder.

Juliette almost broke the door chain trying to swing it open before scrambling to close it enough to disengage it, and opening it again.

"Hi! Hey." She stood sideways, and gestured towards the living room. "Come in! Uh, I was just about to text you. How- how did you get up here?"

Y/N turned slowly from her cursory inspection of the room and smiled. "Oh. I just followed someone in and told them what floor I needed.. Is that cool?"

Juliette closed the door behind them. "Uh, yeah. Yeah of course it is." Y/N resumed her spin around the room.

"This is…a fancy ass apartment. Very nice…"

The brunette followed the woman, in awe of the fact that she was really there, inside her place. Y/N had opted for a muscle tank top, that was more missing material than not, and had she not been wearing a sports bra, everything would have been visible from the side. She was also wearing a pair of…kind of tiny…running shorts, black spandex just barely concealing the curve of her butt.

Juliette cleared her throat and refocused. "Thank you…My parents insisted. This is the first time I've been anything but embarrassed about it."

Y/N nodded at her with that same captivating smirk, and then placed her duffel bag on the floor between the couch and the wall furthest from Juliette. The sound it made hitting the ground betrayed how monstrously heavy the thing must have been.

The shorter girl hummed. "Wow, you're strong. What do you have in there, a stairmaster? Elliptical?"

Y/N chuckled and bent down next to it, sitting a number of different weights and resistance bands on the floor next to her client's mat in the middle of the room.

"Nah. Well not today, unfortunately." She paused to wink at Juliette. "We're just gonna be…testing the waters."

Juliette came closer to her, wringing her hands. "Well that's good. I haven't done any real exercise since high school."

"Oh, word?" Y/N squinted at the other woman quizzically for a moment before going back to what she was doing. "You just naturally got legs like that?" She zipped her bag back up.

Jules blushed and looked down at them. "Oh...what? These old things?"

Y/N tilted her head back gesturing upwards with her chin. "Flex your arms."

"My…arms?"

"Yeah. I just want to see something."

Reluctantly, and feeling like she might burst into flames, Juliette flexed her biceps while burrowing a hole into the floor with her eyes.

Y/N quickly closed the distance between them, hands extended, now hovering over her skin. "May I?" After a beat, she began to drop them at her sides. "No pressure, I just don't have my calipers."

Juliette took a deep breath. "I'm just a little embarrassed. Uh…sure, of course."

Y/N nodded and stood in front of her while she stood there and tapped her arm to silently get the girl to flex again. Juliette acquiesced as the taller woman gently squeezed her arms, then her waist only to crouch in front of her and grasp her calves silently.

Jules had never been more happy to be a little tipsy and was beginning to wonder if this was a bad idea, What with the way her body was responding to what she assumed

was the other woman's way of assessing her fat/muscle ratio and her current proximity. Juliette felt silly watching her, looking so nonchalant, while she was freaking out. The fiendish little voice in her head was begging her to grab a handful of Y/N‘s hair while she was down there and kiss her lips till they were sore.

Wishing to fill the silence, the brunette laughed out, "Do I get to feel you up too, coach?"

Y/N stood up then and took a step back from her. "Sure. Go ahead."

"Ah…I was mostly kidding." Juliette spoke softly, hands already on the other woman's arms. "But I've been wanting to do this for a while."

Y/N was silent as she watched the shorterwoman run her warm, soft hands over the curves of her arms. She didn't intend to flex her muscles, but she did so anyway.

"Wow. They're so firm...Like steel cables…" Jules breathed, running both hands down brown arms. The two were close, close enough to feel breath on skin. Y/N raised an eyebrow, watching the small woman. A pregnant moment passed as their eyes caught, pale hands wrapped around Y/N‘s wrists. Every time the woman tilted her head like that, brow furrowed, a jolt of lightning ran straight through Juliette.

"Thanks." The Y/H/C said, abruptly turning away to sit on the arm of the couch. "You know..." She began, wagging a finger. "You have incredible muscle concentration for someone who hasn't worked out since high school."

Juliette snapped back to reality, but not soon enough to respond.

"Did you stretch? I want to see what we're working with, so I can come up with our first lil' regiment." Y/N leaned sideways to rest her body weight on the top of the couch and the shirt she was wearing was now revealing even more of the fine muscle of her torso, leaving her client's mouth just a little dryer than before.

"Yeah. Not like, right before you got here, but like an hour ago."

"Hm." Y/N mused, hand to her chin. "Let's see about your cardio. Is that going to be an issue for your downstairs neighbor?"

Juliette waved her hand. "Nah, there's no room underneath this one and the walls are pretty thick. We should be fine.“ Y/N smiled. "Great."

————

Juliette slapped her hands against her sides as she completed her final set of jumping jacks in the cardio circuit Y/N had put her through. Just like in her younger years, she mimicked the heavy breathing and exhaustion that her human classmates exhibited during the more strenuous gym periods under Y/N‘s watchful eye. The Y/H/C woman circled her, clapping her hands in encouragement before stopping to stand beside her with her hands on her hips.

"23...24...25. All done. Wow, that was really hard." Juliette sputtered as she ran her arm across her head and fanned herself with her shirt. Y/N walked over to her bag. "Good job, Juliette. Take a seat. Catch your breath." Juliette savored the crumb of praise as she sat on her couch, and threw her head back, letting her eyes cross, panting hard.

Long fingers pressed underneath her jaw. She glanced down to see that Y/N was staring at her intently, and then back down at her watch. A few seconds passed and the woman's brow furrowed.

"Not much of a sweater, huh?" She murmured.

"Yeah. I just get uh, really overheated. It's genetic…You know, kind of like dogs? So l don't work out very much."

"Mmhm.“

"Yeah..."

An awkward silence passed through the airas Y/N kept her fingers pressed at the woman's pulse point.

Finally, she pulled back. "I think that's enough for today."

Juliette's eyes widened and she scanned the room for her phone to check the time but didn't see it where she remembered leaving it. Had an hour passed that quickly?

"Hop on the mat for me." Y/N patted the girl's yoga mat as she sat down next to it. Yes ma'am. The brunette did as she asked, relieved that she had made it to the end without making too big a fool of herself.

"Child's pose?" Y/N intoned, returning the weights to the duffle bag she had brought with her.

Contrary to popular belief, yoga still had a meditative effect for vampires so Juliette was able to relax into the position without having to ask what it was.

"Take deep…relaxing…breaths." Juliette closed her eyes and imagined what their next meeting might be like as she leaned into the pose, bringing her knees underneath her stomach and stretching her arms out as far as she could on the mat.

"Now, corpse."

Juliette hitched herself up and then laid down on the mat, arms still out in front, face down.

"So what do you think?" Juliette asked shyly, muffled by the mat. "Will you be able to wrassle me into sha-"

The girl squawked as Y/N suddenly moved from beside her onto her back bearing down on her with all of her weight, swooping her hands up and into thick silver cuffs which she clacked shut quickly as Juliette hissed in pain, twisting and thrashing underneath her. The hunter growled in effort as she maneuvered an additional set of cuffs onto her ankles.

"Y/N!"

Finally, a slat of regular old duck tape was snatched off and pressed onto Juliette's mouth as Y/N rolled off of her, dusting her hands.

The small woman squirmed beneath her, groaning.

"You must have it too easy killing people in this soundproof room if you let your guard down this much." The woman said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Juliette's eyes were wide, panicked as she peered at the woman who was now holding a wooden stake in her hand.

"MMMPHH……MmmhmmPhh." She pleaded with her eyes as she writhed in pain rolling onto her back and then returning to her stomach.

"You know, my mother always told me that monsters like you were the most dangerous." She twirled the stake in her hands and crouched down next to the girl.

"Beautiful. Kind a smile that makes you want to..." Her voice trailed off as she watched Juliette begin to cry blood from the burning pain searing into her joints.

"When were you planning to drain me, huh? Suck me dry?" She dragged the stake across the smooth skin of the girl's face, wiping a blood tear away. "Were you going to wait until you had me hooked on whatever weird hold you have over me?"

Juliette closed her eyes, and the tears fell freely. This was insane! She'd just wanted to…If only she could explain.

"Well. I guess it doesn't matter." Y/N grabbed one of her fingers to unlock the girl's phone and typed a short message to both Ben and her father.

"I scoped out the place before I came. Dodged the cameras and scaled the wall. No one knows that I'm here." She tossed Jules' phone on the floor, just out of her reach. "And now your friend thinks I never showed up."

The girl walked over Juliette and put her knee on her back to hold her still. "Goodbye, bloodsucker."

And then, after hesitating once, she staked her.

Juliette let out one last muffled scream before her body went totally slack.

Y/N‘s heart sank and she sat back on the floor, breathing deeply from the exertion, her anxiety peaking.

After regaining her nerve enough to make another movement, she removed the cuffs and the tape gingerly, tossing them over her shoulder, and averted her gaze from Juliette's lifeless eyes.

It should not have felt so bad to kill a monster, but she couldn't help but feel heavy as the cute girl from the smoothie shop turned quickly to ash…

Except she didn't.

Y/N stared at the stake protruding from her back.

She rolled the girl onto her side. It was perfectly positioned through her heart.

Confused, she leaned against the couch and waited. And waited.

And at some point, from the compiled exhaustion of her crazy schedule, her two jobs, the legacy blood she'd gotten on her hands, and the labor she'd put in to pull this off…Y/N fell asleep.

————

In a cold sweat, Y/N Burns awoke.

Time seemed to crawl as she came to her senses. The woman worriedly assessed her surroundings, noting that she was in a strange bed, in a strange room.

Juliette's.

Her hopes of a quick escape die quickly as both hands catch, tied to the vampire's bedpost. Rope. The rope she had brought with her, just in case.

Blinking, to wake up a little faster, she began to search the room for something to free herself with. It was then that she noticed the Goosebumps blanket she was tucked under, and to her right, a small handmade doll.

"What the hell.." She muttered, struggling against her bindings.

Wet footsteps smack down the hallway toward her and her line of sight zips to the doorway, just in time to see a freshly showered Juliette, wrapped in a towel, freeze at the sight of her.

The air thickens as the two gather their bearings.

Y/N speaks first.

"Let me go." Juliette shakes her head.

Y/N glowers at her. "The fuck you mean,

'no'.“

Juliette grasps the towel around her chest, adjusting it slightly. "I mean, are you going to try to kill me again? Or worse, bring someone to help you try to kill me?"

The bound hunter falters.

Juliette snatches something off her dresser and waves it around. "I was able to snoop through your phone too. You're a hunter. Your whole family is."

Y/N frowns. "I'm gonna do my job, with help, or without it."

Juliette throws her hands up in exasperation. "Why the heck would I let you go then?" She wrings her hands. "Do you really still want to kill me that badly?" Her eyes begin to water. "You could at least lie."

Y/N‘s mouth falls open as she feels herself losing steam. She shakes her head "Don't give me that sad crap. I know what you are, Juliette. Monsters like you don't feel anything."

"Ughh!" The damp woman puts her hands on her hips. "Clearly, you don't have the slightest clue what I feel. Especially not what I feel for you."

"I think I can guess how you feel about the person who just tried to kill you-"

"I really, really like you, you know!" The girl paces in front of the bed. "I can see that you think I brought you here to drink all your blood or whatever but I actually just wanted a reason to hang out with you! You're really…hot and…intimidating and I couldn't get up the nerve to ask you out so…When you offered to train me I thought..." She trails off as she buries her head in her hands.

Y/N is silent, thinking, desperately trying to hold onto her righteous anger. "Why should I believe someone who lies so easily about the most mundane things? Look at you now! Fresh out of the shower, even though we both know that nothing I had you do could make you break a sweat!"

Juliette rolls her eyes and comes a little closer, pointing to her heart and searching the other woman's eyes. "I can't really apologize for showering when I was covered in my own blood. If I'd left it, I'm sure you'd have thought it was someone else's."

The Y/H/C haired woman leans her head back on the pillow she'd been sleeping against.

“I won't apologize for saving people's lives from a killer. Well," she gestures with her head, "at least trying to."

"I'm not..." Jules marches over to her, phone in hand. "I can't believe I'm really going to show you this." Y/N balks as the shorter woman carefully sits down next to her on the bed, unlocking her phone. She opens the text message thread between herself and Ben. "I'm assuming that you didn't pay much attention to the conversation we were having before you texted him that I was going to do some homework because you didn't end up coming."

Y/N reads, dumbfounded, message after message of Juliette talking about how beautiful she is, how excited she was to see her, and what appears to be a weeks-long crush, in excruciating detail.

Jules: [There's no way she'd be interested in me]

Jules: [Did you see what she was wearing

today…GOD]

Jules: [I'll try to actually talk to her, next time for sure]

Jules: [Okay, I wussed out. Maybe next time?]

Jules: [She's like straight out of a magazine, Ben! What do you want from me?]

Benny Boy<3: [You want to fuck her so bad

it makes you look stupid!]

Jules: [Shut UPPPPP]

And so on.

Y/N‘s eyes dart around the room, feelings of defeat clamoring in her chest. And guilt. And excitement?

Juliette pulls the phone away, blushing. Her fingers pick at loose threads in the blanket she'd spread over Y/N as she continued sheepishly.

"I've been having these insane dreams about you. Almost every night. I can't get you out of my head." She leans close to the hunter then, trying to catch her gaze.

"I…You..." The other woman flounders. To say the scent emanating from the warm, damp vampire was disarming would be an insult of an understatement.

Juliette bites her lip. "I'm not very good at flirting, I know, and I don't know maybe it's vamp brain. Maybe I'm genuinely just that crazy about you, but I could have sworn when you talked to me that night in the smoothie shop…that even just a little…“ she whispered, drawing just slightly nearer…"That you…liked me too." Juliette feels extremely silly to be saying this to a person who had attempted to murder her a couple of hours ago, but she gets the sense that nothing could make her like the woman even a little less.

Y/N was moving her lips but no words were coming out. There was naught but a hairbreadth between them, and there she was, confronted with a dripping, toweled Juliette. Her mind was swimming now. With the last of her resistance she manages, hoarsely. "I don't."

The vampire is quiet for a moment before slowly, a broad, incredulous grin spreads across her pretty face, her eyes flashing with mischief.

"Then why is your heart beating so fast?"

Y/N tilts her head and licks her lips, throat feeling thick, pointing with a bound hand. "Your towel..."

Juliette's hands come up to feel skin where cotton should be, stuttering as her skin turns bright red.

Y/N is unfazed, angling her head towards the half-naked woman. "You know..." Her voice is like silk now, her lips parted. "I can't lie..." She leans as far forward as she can, the rope pulled tight, her eyes glazed over. "I've always wanted to…see how far down…that blush spreads."

Juliette's hand creeps up and over

Y/N‘s thigh like molasses as she carefully closes the distance between them, landing a whisper of a kiss onto plump lips.

The towel settles around her waist loosely as she fully rests her weight on her hands, gripping Y/N‘s strong thighs. They brush their lips together softly, Y/N straining her neck to capture Juliette's lips fully. The pale woman can't help but moan, gingerly pulling herself onto her knees, so that she can take the hunter's face in her hand. She locks eyes with her shyly, biting her lip, before kissing her again tentatively…once, twice, three times. And then she feels Y/N‘s tongue slide languidly over her bottom lip.

Sirens sound in Juliette's head immediately as her body begins to ache in earnest. Y/N‘s racing pulse is like a metronome ticking the small woman over the edge. Her fangs extend in response, prompting her to cover her mouth and pull back, gathering the towel around herself.

Y/N watches, in a fog, as the girl's fangs appear, and a strange darkness blankets Juliette's usually cherubic visage. It thrills her substantially more than it should.

Juliette's hands fly up to her temples. "Shit." She drank before she got in the shower to avoid this, but with Y/N her body seems to just do whatever it wants.

Y/N doesn't say anything, just continues observing the girl who begins hurriedly untying her wrists. When she leans across Y/N to untie her other hand, the ravenette briefly considers catching the towel in her mouth. Before she can decide on that course of action, Juliette is back standing off to the side of the bed.

"You can leave." The anxious vampire exhales, with a voice like gravel. "I don't want to hurt you."

Y/N‘s brow furrows as the shorter girl slowly backs away.

"My key fob is by the door, so please take the elevator so that you don't hurt yourself." She says, walking towards the kitchen. "I'm very, very thirsty."

Juliette shuffles away then, leaving Y/N confused, nearly catatonic, and strangest of all, throbbing like an open wound.

The short woman hardly turns the corner to access her secret refrigerator before Y/N is tossing off her tank top and pressing her against her regular refrigerator, pupils totally blown out, panting like she ran.

Juliette, now a mite calmer, is bewildered. "Y/N? You-"

"Shut the fuck up."

The taller girl grasps her neck, on the edge of choking the girl, before crushing her lips onto Juliette's.

The shorter girl is lost in the softness of Y/N‘s lips immediately, legs weakening as she throws her arms over the girl's shoulders. Y/N presses fully against her body, leaving nary a space between them.

Her mouth is hot, open, and searching as she grasps the woman's waist with her free hand grinding against her. Juliette responds with the same fervor, her tongue sliding against Y/N‘s, one hand finally tangling in her thick hair, keeping her close, the other sliding down Y/N‘s chest. Flushed red hands caress the soft skin and hard muscle of Y/N‘s stomach outlining the faint divisions of her defined abdomen.

Y/N‘s grip on Juliette softens as she holds her face, breathing heavily, pressing her head back against the wall.

"You make me feel fuckin' crazy," she growls.

Juliette gasps, eyelids fluttering closed, tugging a little on Y/N‘s hair. "You make me so fucking wet."

The streak of molten desire that shoots through Y/N borders on painful as she lifts Juliette up, who loses her poor towel in the process.

Y/N had kissed girls before. She had had sex before. But this was like an itch she could not scratch. Her body was crying out for Juliette and she could not fight it, not this close, in the sanctity of the girl's home, where only God could judge. Not anymore.

Juliette instinctively wraps her legs around Y/N‘s waist, too drunk with lust to feel embarrassed about the viscous wet streak she is spreading across the girl's tum. She holds her tight around the neck and shoulders, as the magnets she'd fixed to her refrigerator are knocked onto the ground.

Y/N kissed her hard, biting her bottom lip, before sliding her tongue against Juliette's. The shorter girl moaned as long, lithe fingers gripped her ass and Y/N‘s warm body held her steady against the fridge. The hunter angles her head down to roughly kiss and suck Juliette's neck, prompting her to moan loudly, holding onto her for dear life.

"Y/N..."

As if following a command, the Y/H/C haired girl switches her grip, hoisting Juliette higher to fully support her with her arms, pressing soft kisses onto her collarbones as she walks her to the living room.

Jules lets out a breathy laugh. "God, you're so hot." And it's making Juliette deliriously horny. Is she dreaming again? Did she actually die earlier?

Y/N stops sprinkling her with kisses to give her a look that makes Jules gulp before laying the girl down onto the yoga mat, which was still lying there, now spotless again.

She pinned the brunette's hands over her head with one hand, devouring all of the girl's naked form with her gaze.

"It spreads all the way down to your toes, I See." Her fingers make a trail from pursed lips, to the flushed valley of her breasts, down a soft stomach to make lazy circles at the base of the vampire's pelvis. Y/N has never seen anything more compelling. It’s taking all of her restraint to move at this pace. She wants to see the woman come completely undone. It's only fair. But it's worth the time to burn the image of the mewling, pliant vampire submissive underneath her. She can't really predict what either of them might do next.

Juliette is squirming again underneath her, this time crossing and uncrossing her legs, trying to generate some kind of friction at her swollen apex. "Please…I can't..."

Y/N‘s smile is wide and wicked. “You keep trying to convince me that you're so sweet, so innocent." She continues her lazy circles, creeping lower toward Juliette's most sensitive bits. "But you're leaking onto this mat and I haven't even put my mouth on you yet baby."

Juliette's mouth drops open and her ears now too, are the color of strawberries. "Have you…Have you seen yourself? Have you felt your own hands? Kissed yourself before?" The woman rolls her eyes. "I don't want to hear it!" Y/N‘s words, while inciting her to protest, only turned the poor girl on even more. But it really wasn't her fault. Y/N was built like an olympic track star.

Y/N grins and dips her finger within Juliette's folds. "Just down that bad, huh?" She grazes her finger over the peaked bundle of nerves, and delights in the way Jules' back arches immediately, eyebrows raising with glee. This was kinda like torturing her, right?

The brunette is desperately biting her lip. "Horrendous." She gasps. "Astronomical." The burst of affection from the smoothie shop returns full force. Y/N knows that if Juliette really wanted to get free of her, she absolutely could. Instead, she's just suffering, waiting, saying whatever embarrassing thing Y/N provokes her to say.

Yeah. She likes her.

Y/N releases Juliette who then immediately props herself up on her elbows to try and kiss her. The hunter deftly avoids her attempt, sitting back on her knees and sliding her hands underneath warm thighs, lifting the girl's legs over her shoulders.

Y/N likes Juliette a lot. And she's tired of pretending that she doesn't.

Fangs are out again as Y/N gently drags her tongue over Juliette's clit, then down to her opening to gather a significant taste of her, and back up. Hot air grazes pink silk, "If I didn't know any better, l'd think you were about to cum already, princess."

The brunette covers her mouth with her hands, both to hide her teeth and to suppress an embarrassingly loud moan. Overstimulation is the word for the vampire's experience as she watches Y/N‘s head bob like she's fishing for apples, working her over with the precision of a surgeon. Juliette squeezes her eyes closed, hands still over her mouth. The only thing she has left to hide is the fact that she is, in fact, cumming right now. Way too early.

Y/N stops momentarily at the feeling of the girl's legs quivering, thighs threatening to end her life. If she hadn't figured out Juliette was a nightcrawler before she'd found herself in this position, the taste of her would have confirmed it. No one tasted like this. Y/N peeked at the girl's strained expression and continued drinking her in ravenously, wondering if that was what being a vampire felt like. "Fuck baby…you taste…delicious."

Y/N was feeling very bold. Killing monsters was one thing. Being in complete control of one, who also happened to be an incredibly gorgeous, gorgeous girl was another. Of course, if she was honest with herself, she didn't really think of Juliette as sharing energy with the likes of ghouls and shamblers. Not even close. But that didn't stop her from being irreconcilably turned on by this.

With the brunette's legs still over her shoulders, she rises up to be directly above her, pressing the girl's knees almost against her chest. She chuckles.

"And you lied about being flexible too. Tsk, tsk." Juliette is breathing erratically under Y/N‘s penetrating gaze, still trying to come down, unable to defend herself. "Let's see what else you're keeping from me." Her fingers tenderly massage Jules' slit and the exposed woman's breath hitches. It only takes a couple of second for two of Y/N‘s fingers to become sufficiently slick, and only a couple more for them to be 3 knuckles deep.

Juliette's eyes roll back into her head and she groans as Y/N tucks her head between her neck and shoulder, viciously kissing her neck, biting, and leaving dark hickeys in her wake, while steadily stroking her insides. She angles up to Juliette's crimson ear, whispering wantonly.

"I want people to know I was here. I want your daddy to see what I did. Who bit who." Juliette is already starting to contract around her, moaning helplessly, her hands back in Y/N‘s hair.

"For a good girl, you sure like it when I say wild shit to you..." Y/N licks her ear. "I think…you like it."

"Please, please." Juliette’s prey whimpers as she suppresses the urge to bite her, which was just one feeling in a cacophony of sensations that were threatening to drive her insane, and the coil twisting within her loins the girl was nearing the brink.

The two lock eyes as Y/N repositions, moving Juliette's legs around her waist before gently entering her anew.

"Baby girl," She intones, licking her lips. "I'm bout to fuck you like nobody else ever did."

Y/N‘s pelvis presses down onto her hand, body rolling into Juliette's in sync with her thrusts, adding additional weight to her strokes, her fingers a substitute for the one thing she didn't bring in her bag.

And Juliette is cumming again, crying out as Y/N fucks her relentlessly, and wave after wave of orgasm wracks through her body. She finds herself pulling Y/H/C hair demanding "More, more," until her voice is hoarse and even her nigh immortal body cannot handle another wave of pleasure rippling through it. Finally, all is still as Y/N rests her head on the woman's chest, not the least bit tired, but finally able to see through the haze of her inordinate lust.

They just lie like that for a moment.

Juliette's heart truly racing as Y/N breathes deeply, allowing herself a moment to enjoy the soft hands stroking her face and hair.

"Still trying to end me, I guess..." Juliette sighs, able to speak coherently again. Y/N huffs, nodding into her chest.

Juliette has learned that there is something else in the world that feels almost as satisfying as drinking enough blood to kill a man.

Almost.

Y/N‘s balls are as blue as the sky in July, but she moves to get up, surprising a suddenly cold Juliette as she paces round the room. Despite the lack of post nut clarity, her skin flashes mahogany as her mind replays what just transpired.

She looks at a fully naked Juliette who's earlier sheepishness seems to have temporarily dissipated in favor of a strange mix of bliss and confusion.

"You look like you're about to run off." Jules says softly, concern evident on her face. Y/N‘s hands are on her hips, then folded across her chest as she continues walking back and forth. Embarrassed, and still throbbing, she sits down on the couch and puts her head in her hands.

"Well I sure feel like I want to," she groans, leaning back and putting her arm over her eye. Never in her life; not with Tess, or Diamond, or Britney, or Maria…none of her past flames have made her lose herself like that before. It's kind of freaking her out.

„This is nuts.“

Juliette laughed. "You're telling me. I'm just now getting the feeling back in my feet." She curled and uncurled her toes, kicking them up at the stressed woman.

"Ah…Yeah." Y/N can't meet her eyes. "I may have gotten a little carried away."

Juliette touches her neck, which is for the time being still somewhat tender. "I can't believe you tried to give me a bunch of giant hickeys…I don't remember wishing I didn't heal so fast before today. Not to mention-"

"Yeah..." Y/N rubbed her face. "That line about your dad...Outta pocket. I know. I don't have an explanation for that." The girl grabbed the decorative throw from off of the couch and tossed it toward Juliette who caught it and draped it over herself, clearly giddy, just pleased Y/N was still there.

"You said a lot of things actually."

Y/N groaned.

"I've never been called delicious before."

"Stop…“

"I have had girlfriends who couldn't make me feel like this. Much less figure out how to put me out of my mind like that. I guess that's why youre middle name is Antigone."

The hunter was silent, massaging her temples.

"Speaking of…for a moment there…. it kinda sounded like you wanted to stake…a little claim on me." Juliette waggled her brows. "Get it? Stake a claim?"

Y/N stared at her, through her fingers for a moment. "I think I'm going to go now."

"What??"

"I can't do this."

Of course, Juliette also couldn't let her leave. Not yet. Not after the most earth shaking orgasm of her life.

She was in her lap in a blink, blanket draped over her shoulders, so that she was bare to Y/N. As mortifying as it was for her to be so brave, being naked had worked before so she had hope that it would work again.

"Don't leave. Please." She took the other woman's wrists and rubbed her palms with her thumbs. The two peered into each other's eyes, seeking understanding, reciprocation. "I didn't take you for the type to boot and scoot.. You didn't even leave right after you tried to kill me."

Y/N gasped in spite of herself.

"Juliette."

"What?" She waved both their hands around as she spoke. "if you leave now, that's what you'll be doing. I don't make the rules. Besides, if anyone should be feeling weird about all this, it is me, and I don't appreciate you stealing my moment!"

The Y/H/C haired girl can't help but chortle, raising her eyebrows. "Ha! …Fair enough."

Juliette is beaming again, now running her thumb over Y/N‘s lips.

Y/N, totally enamored with that smile, captures her hand to kiss the mostly healed silver scars on her wrist.

Juliette hates that no matter how sweet Y/N‘s actions may be, if they include touching her, they start her engine. It's stupid that the butterfly kisses to her sore wrists are making her so warm.

"Why does it feel like everything you do is sexy..."

Y/N giggles. "This?" She kisses her wrist again. "You are so easy to please. Even easier to tease."

Juliette shakes her head. "For you? I'm just easy in general."

Dark eyes glint with mischief, "Uh huh." It was just so damn fun to play with the little vampire. She was usually so measured, thinking things through. But when it came to Juliette, she was finding that she couldn't pass up any opportunity to fluster her. It was just too hot to watch her fold so quickly.

She peppered the girl's wrist with more kisses, then moved up to her palm, kissing it gently at first. She watched Jules' carefully with a heavy gaze as she swapped her lips for her tongue, licking up one of her fingers before taking two into her mouth.

Juliette is stupefied, and of course, immediately back in the hopeless state she'd been in when Y/N had kissed her in the kitchen. Her breathing hitched as she looked at Y/N who was wickedly servicing her fingers now, sliding her tongue in between them, sucking them off with a punctuating pop - all the while maintaining eye contact.

Blue eyes darkened as legacy blood now pooled in Juliette's core, shockwaves flitting throughout her each time Y/N‘s tongue made contact with the soft skin of her fingers. She felt the air around her shift while her lips formed into a pout. "Well… now you're just being mean."

Y/N was all teeth, totally pleased with herself. "I am. What are you going to do about it?" She winked, totally self-assured. But perhaps, she should not have been.

There were two sides to Juliette.

The angel that she so adored who was awkward, shy, cute and kind of dorky.

But there was a devil too.

Juliette's fangs were already out, so Y/N was a little slow to detect the change. And so, the hunter was taken completely off guard when the short woman lifted her into her arms, bridal style, as easily as a bag of potatoes.

She walked them back to her bedroom and placed Y/N on the bed, face down to straddle her back. The Y/E/C eyed girl turned slightly with suspicion as Juliette pushed her hair back behind her ears, a slightly off-putting lust painting her face as she gently helped pull the woman's sports bra off of her head.

"Uh. Are you okay?"

Juliette smirked. "Never better. Now..." The brunette continued looking at Y/N as she slid the athletic shorts and spandex just far enough down perfect thighs to be able to pull her underwear to the side. Without fanfare, she dipped her head down and raggedly licked the woman's slit.

"Oh…shit…" Y/N moaned, grabbing hold of the sheets at her sides, looking back at her impromptu lover's blue doe eyes. „Jules…Fuck."

"I love the way you say my name even more while I'm eating you out." Juliette sighed as she continued, placing both hands on the woman's legs, pushing them until Y/N understood and shifted onto her knees. "Everything you do is so freaking sexy to me, you know."

Y/N could only pant and keen as dainty hands grasped the curve of her ass, pulling her back into the vampire's mouth.

The short woman rocked her back onto her tongue again and again, as Y/N began to unravel, pressing into the bed to meet Juliette's face halfway.

"Not so fast, meanie.." Juliette licked her lips, biting them as she snaked a hand up well defined back muscles to thread her fingers into Y/H/C hair, and pull the woman toward her till her back was arched.

"Ohhh, fuckkkkk." Y/N gasped as Juliette penetrated her from behind, sidling up against her, curling her fingers to stroke inside her longingly, planting feverish kisses against smooth shoulder blades.

As Y/N‘s excitement rose, so did Juliette’s as she listened to her heartbeat continuously accelerate.

"Can you believe you were about to leave me before I could return the favor?" She asked tongue trailing her spine.

"Juliette…" Was all Y/N could manage as she fucked the fingers back, using her own to press at her own clit, lost in the sensation.

"Vampires are great hosts, you know. I even bought you some snacks. I can be super generous.." The girl murmured, pouting as she added another finger carefully and redoubled her efforts. And I think I'd do anything for you."

"Please," Y/N begged, teetering on the edge.

"Do it."

Juliette blinked, startled out of the red haze by genuine confusion. "Do…What?"

"Do it." Y/N growled. "I want you to do it while you're inside of me. Please don't make me ask again. Don't make me say it."

Oh.

Juliette’s eyes nearly crossed as she leaned forward, tossing Y/N‘s hair over to one side, craning her neck into range, and bit her.

Y/N nearly screamed at the feeling. It was much, much different than she'd imagined. She blinked back tears at the euphoria of being fucked and drained at once. Juliette's eyes lolled with complete satiation.

If Y/N‘s juice had tasted like heaven, her blood brought her to hell. Together they came one last time as the taller woman breathily rattled out Juliette's name, clawing at the headboard.

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