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nosferatvpussy · 29 days ago

Text

distorted lullabies [chapter XXVII]

Word count: 4k

Warnings: gets a little brutal

Pairing: Dracula x reader

AO3 link | masterlist

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I watched the Robert Eggers Nosferatu, ran home and finished this chapter. I was stuck on it for I don't know how long. Hope you like it <3 Happy 2025 - it'll be 5 years since I started this, let's hope it doesn't take another 5 to finish the next 5 final chapters.

The cabbie swore under his breath when I slammed the door after me. I gave him my address, cracked the window open and breathed in the smell of rain on pavement and on the nearby Kensington Gardens in an attempt to cleanse my senses of Mallory’s bitter anger.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered to myself. Swearing fixed nothing but it was often relieving.

It was all escaping my control. All of it.

Months ago, I had thought myself so smart when proposing that deal to Count Dracula. I really thought I could win that, or was that my prideful ego poking its head out again? A latent deathwish, that’s what I had, and there came death prancing to my door and tempting me with a delicious form of self destruction. That’s what I had done, utterly destroyed my former self, not without struggle and not without loving my own destroyer, and yet, through it all, I never considered the safeguards of my deal would fail. When I proposed to Dracula that he would only turn me into a vampire when I told him to, that I would die on my terms, I fully thought I was in control. Handled. As easy as winning an argument in court.

Of course, had I known all the variables, I would’ve thought of more safeguards. Not that they would have mattered. This slow withering of my human self was surely a blessing compared to utter obliteration of my humanity. This way I could at least ease myself into what being a vampire entailed.

On the other hand, simply being turned must be like ripping a band-aid off. One day I could walk in the sun, and the next I was changing day for night and drinking blood. Easier perhaps.

Dracula threw it in my face how I had been taking note of my ever increasing heightened senses and ignored it all. My singular thirst for his blood had already started to translate to thirst for human blood — Julia’s scarlet blood spurting from her delicate neck right into my killer’s, lover’s, maw, for instance, and now Mallory’s pulse ringing in my ear like a church bell calling for mass.

All of that, even the unbearable pain of growing fangs I could bear, perhaps, and could learn to control it.

Dracula always did say that I had better self control than he did. The fact that I had lacked control in hypnotising Mallory, practically taking a backseat while the blossoming vampire took over control not only of myself but of her, was the scariest part. A desperate attempt to keep Mallory close, and I had no choice in it.

The car came to a stop across the street from my house and I parted ways from the cabbie. Pulling my trenchcoat up to shield myself from the pitter patter of rain, I looked down the street, two houses after mine, and sure enough, the police car who had followed the cab all the way from V&A was now parked. I raised a hand in greeting to the two officers, even though I didn’t know their faces, and they waved back.

I fished my keys and phone from the bottom of my purse, and rang Dracula as I unlocked my door. I kicked the door shut behind me and went upstairs to my bedroom as I waited for him to pick up.

Voicemail answered.

It was still daylight, so Dracula was most likely asleep, and he slept like the dead. If Renfield hadn’t arrived yet – an usual occurrence after dusk to carry out his services – the call would probably go unnoticed.

I called him again and put the phone on speaker as I threw my purse on the bed. The sound of raindrops hitting the window glass was muffled by the thickness of my curtains when I pulled them shut. Enclosed in darkness, I slipped out of my clothes until I was left in my underwear.

The phone’s beep was cut short as the call was answered. “Yes, my darling?” Said Count Dracula in his velvety voice. “How was it?”

The familiar weight of his voice made me sit down on the bed, half naked and vulnerable as if he had spoken to me within the room.

I almost wished I had gone back to his place instead of mine to feel some comfort. It was a silly thing to wish for. After last night, when Dracula had celebrated what my pain meant, disregarded my fear, my despair, all because I was finally a perfect bride to be, it would be stupid to think he would react any differently to what I had done to Mallory.

“It was fine,” I replied, lying down on my bed. I put the phone to my ear. “No surprises. Mallory is still mad at me. She doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Well, nothing that can be done for that anymore, I suppose. Where are you now?”

“I came home. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll try to get some rest in the afternoon.”

I counted three heartbeats before he replied.

“Will you come by later?”

I knew him well enough at this point to know that he had fought his initial instinct to question me. He knew I was scared, and I knew he was scared that I would run out of fear. The fact that he hadn’t questioned me boded well in a way. Progress.

“Not tonight,” I said in a small voice, staring at my ceiling and noticing a spiderweb on the corner. The silky brightness of the web glimmered as if the spider could tailor webs made from light. By the size of it, the spider had made a home in my room for some time now. Only now did I have the eyes to notice it, and yet, in the darkness of the room, I shouldn’t have been able to see it. “I don’t think I can handle being close to another person tonight.” Realising how that sounded, I continued. “All I can think about is blood. It’s a wonder I didn’t make a victim out of the cabbie on my way here. I would rather not risk it again.” Dracula laughed on the phone. I winced. “At least you’re having fun.”

“Y/N, of course I am,” he said, a smile on his voice. “Nothing will make me happier than seeing you take your first victim.”

“This isn’t fun for me!” I jerked myself upright on the bed. “Can you try being understanding for once? For fuck’s sake!”

“Understanding?” The word was bitten out. “I have been nothing if not understanding so far.”

“Yes, it was very understanding how you almost killed Diana. So very kind of you to grant me a few more days after you used Mallory against m–”

“I’m not having this conversation again.”

“Then listen to this. I understand that you finally have confirmation that I’ll survive the change and that you’re happy about that. Great! At least I won’t be a shell of myself like your first brides. I think it’s fucking amazing, too, but it is not easy for me.” I inhaled deeply as if saying so much had stolen my breath. “I don’t know how to deal with this.”

“You had months to come to terms with it, Y/N. You asked me hundreds of questions. I showed you all that I could.”

“It doesn’t make it any less scary!” My face fell to my hand as my hair fell around my face like a curtain. “I didn’t think I would have to try to control myself while still human.” Tears fell to my bed, synchronising with the rain outside. “Please, can you try finding some compassion in yourself? I have no one but you now.”

“I don’t understand, Y/N,” he said. He sounded calm, and sincere. “But I will make an effort to. If you allow me to, I would like to take some of your blood tonight and see for myself.”

Closing my eyes, I let my weight go and lied on my side with the phone pressed to my ear against the bed. The knot on my throat joined the ever growing pain on my head and jaw. Another migraine was coming.

“You have my permission.” I sighed. That was the best he could do at the moment, and I would take it. “And then we'll talk.”

“And then we’ll talk,” he repeated. “Darling, have a shower or a bath. Try to take yourself out of your body, if you can.”

“I’ll try to sleep, and dream, hopefully.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Two beeps indicated that the call disconnected.

I rolled over on my back and stretched my arms at each side of me. What remained of my tears ran down my cheeks and dried on my hair.

There was nothing to stop it now.

This was it. I was not dying on my terms, but Dracula’s.

Food didn’t taste the same – from an old brew of reheated tea, to a simple strawberry scone becoming nauseatingly sweet and finally everything was starting to acquire a dry tastelessness. Migraines ensued after eating what my body could no longer accept. Perhaps the pain was the body trying to purge the unnecessary nutrition that food provided, while also begging for something else. It was happening now after trying, and failing, to eat my favourite sandwich from V&A Café. It had happened at the party as well, although the circumstances made it worse. And the very first time was the day after I had drunk deep mouthfuls of blood from Dracula’s wrist while overlooking the city from inside the London Eye.

I ran my tongue over my teeth to feel the small bumps on my gums, which throbbed in response to that prodding. Tiny fangs threatened to protrude from there as they had last night. After drinking Dracula’s blood they had virtually disappeared. Their insistence to make their presence known was a harsh, and painful, reminder of what I could have done to Mallory.

And wanted to do. Still did.

I raised my arms in the air. The wounds were almost gone, leaving only pale outlines of where Dracula had bitten me two nights ago.

His first bite had taken weeks to heal completely.

A chill coursed through me that made all the hairs on my body stand up straight. Only then did I realise how cold I was. I pulled my duvet around me, cocooning myself within it and closed my eyes, wishing I would be pulled away to somewhere else, or to another life where I had already dealt with everything and was living happily ever after. A nice fantasy.

In my dream, I was cocooned by wings which whisked me away, sending me floating into the comforting, soft clouds of dreamland. I breathed in and out to savour the sweetness in the air. In and out. In and out. Like teeth biting and releasing. In and out. Sharp teeth and red blood. Sweet, red and intoxicating.

I don’t want these dreams.

Conscious in the back of my mind, I managed to push the thoughts out, and quickly my subconscious conjured Dracula’s presence to run his hands down my back, massaging, kneading and counting my bones as he had done once to put me in a trance. I counted each bone aloud. Would my bones change too? Become hard and unbreakable? Yes, darling, said death, you are wholly different down to the last bone. His hands, so rarely delicate, turned me gently and I stared up into the dark pits of his eyes. Smiling, he said he would like a taste of his beloved.

His beloved – me.

Say you love me. This is my dream, I can make you say it in my dream.

Anything for his beloved, he said, anything I wanted if only I allowed him a taste first. Obligingly, eager, I turned my head to the side to expose my neck in exchange for his love.

And love poured on me. Cascading, washing over me, so warm, comforting, so red, all enveloping, filling my lungs, my throat, until I was made of love and could feel nothing else.

A pull near my navel jerked me awake.

I stared at the ceiling as my brain finished waking up. Rolling on the bed I looked towards the window, and although the curtains were closed, the light escaping from the corner had to mean it was still daylight.

The pit of my stomach jerked again and growled, begging for substance. My hands covered it automatically, as if trying to stifle the sound and soothe it.

Footsteps coming from the lower floor reached my ears.

I lied there, in wait, processing that there was someone in my home and I had heard it walls and metres away.

For once in this life, I wondered who was more in danger – myself or the intruder?

Something coiled behind my navel. I wondered if it was just hunger — and what sort of hunger was this? For food or something else? – or my new found instincts playing up as they often did when I was around Dracula.

Pushing myself out of bed, my toes pointing and landing, carefully as if I was a ballerina to not make any noise, I made my way to the corridor. As I hugged the bannister, the cold wood touched the naked skin on my stomach, and only then did I realise that all I wore was a bra and hot pants. Returning to my room, I grabbed my robe, a navy blue silk that somehow always disguised the fact that I had just woken up.

On the first landing of the stairs, trying to keep as silent as possible, I crouched to peek around the bannister to catch a glimpse of my living room, populated only by my library and a coat thrown over the couch.

A meow echoed up, coming from the kitchen, and a woman’s voice cooed back, “I know, baby, let’s see if aunt Y/N has anything for you.”

“Di?” I called.

“Oh, Y/N!” She exclaimed from downstairs, unseen. “I didn’t expect you to be home. I’m sorry to barge in.”

“No worries. I’ll be down in a second.”

Diana, cradling one of her cats like a baby, smiled at me when I turned the corner on the kitchen. Another one of her babies, a tuxedo cat, twirled between her legs, meowing non stop.

“I swear I’m not usually this nosy– hey, stop squirming, I know you’re hungry.” She adjusted the calico cat on her lap, Hedy Lamarr, and the other one at her feet was Liz Taylor. She had Laurence Olivier as a cat, as well as Clark Gable, the Hollywood cats, but they were nowhere to be seen now. “I ran out of cat food and tuna so I came to see if you had any left in your pantry,” Di explained, looking apologetic. “I’ve been between meetings all day and couldn’t find the time to run to the store.”

“I think I have some of their food, from when you were in Scotland,” I said, uncrossing my arms and stepping around the kitchen island towards the pantry. Hedy jumped from Diana’s arms to the island, tail swinging in expectation.

“Are you feeling sick?” Diana asked from behind me.

Rummaging through shelves in the pantry, I barely spared her a glance as I continued my search for cat food. “I’m fine,” I said, putting more strength in my voice to make me believe it too. “Why do you ask?”

“Well. It’s Monday 3pm and you’re home in your robe.” At her words, my hand hovered over the box of pasta I was about to move. “And you look dreadful, to be honest.”

“Do I?” I asked, absently.

My mind was torn on wondering how awful I looked and how it could be Monday when I had gone to sleep on a Saturday after brunch with Mallory. Had I lost a day? Slept all through it, or simply did not have any recollection of it?

Neither of those options boded well.

“You look sickly pale, Y/N,” Diana said. “Have you been eating lately?”

“Food poisoning,” I muttered as I closed my hand around a can of cat food. “Here, I found it.” I spun around to give it to Diana and found her too close for comfort. At this distance, I could see the specks of gold and green in her eyes and the fine lines around her eyes that she spent so much money to get rid of. I could smell her breath from here. And yet, she was still at an arm’s distance away. “I need to go back to bed.”

Bed, in the safety of my room, where I could cage myself until night came and so did Dracula.

Pushing the food to Diana, I dodged past her, breath held deep inside my chest, and made way to the hall. Feeling as if my head had disconnected from my neck, I steadied myself against the doorframe as my knees started to go weak. My vision went white.

“Oh love!” Diana exclaimed behind me. A clatter followed by a meow and quick steps echoed in the kitchen before arms encircled my waist, pulling me up. “Gosh, Y/N, you’re heavier than I thought. No matter. Come on, let’s rest in the sitting room.”

“I’m fine,” I grumbled, pushing my forehead against the wall as if that could help me stabilize.

“You don’t look fine. Straighten those legs, come on, can’t do this without you. Hells, I’m getting old, Y/N.” Commanding my brain to focus on one sense, I did as she told me. “Atta girl. Now to the sitting room.” She hugged me close, arms squeezing below my ribs and expelling all the breath I was trying to hold. I gasped for air. Diana’s breath filled my nostrils with the smell of tea, blueberries and yoghurt – her last meal. Concealed beneath that lay a subtle scent, discernible for its lively sweetness.

“Di– I need you to go.” I barely recognised my voice as my own. The thread of consciousness keeping me alert identified a searing pain in my jaw that spiked up to my head.

“Nonsense. One foot in front of the other. Come on,” she huffed, nudging the back of my knees with her legs. She chuckled, the sound so foreign and happy that for a moment I held onto it and the pain of hunger dulled for a second. “Remember when you got home so drunk you couldn’t climb up the stairs? I found you asleep in front of the stairs, covered in all the coats you could find. You looked like a nestled kitten.”

“The day you ordered McDonalds for lunch instead of cooking us lunch on Saturday,” I murmured.

“Sacrilege but yes. First and last time, but you needed a good hangover cure, to be fair, and nothing better than that.”

“You carried me to the sitting room.”

“Pushed you, more like it.” At that, she pushed me a little harder to make my legs move, and my hands flew up to steady myself, finding nothing but air to grasp at. Diana’s shoulder pressed under mine and her hip nudged mine to distribute my weight towards her. My head swivelled, quickly finding a comfortable spot on Di’s arm when my neck proved a little too feeble to carry it. Eyes adjusting through white blotches in my vision, the bite on Diana’s neck peaked back at me between her silver hair. Two punctures glowing at me as a wolf’s glare in the dark. A fat tear formed on the corner of my eye. I closed my eyes in shame, knowing that tear came from desperate hunger and not fear. Deep, ravenous, gut wrenching hunger unlike any I had ever felt. “Y/N, don’t pass out please. Almost to the sofa now. If you fall, you’ll take me down with you.”

Yes, yes, I would.

I bit my lip, and felt a distinct sharpness that should not be there.

“Di, I’m so sorry,” I uttered, hardly believing the words as tears spilled from shut eyes. Wrapping my hand around her arm, telling myself I needed to push her away – please, please, away , AWAY – and instead, it pulled her as in the inescapable grasp of vine that squeezes a tree and constricts its bark, never letting go unless plied off. Unwillingly, my body shifted closer, angling towards Diana. “So so sorry,” I whispered, voice nearing a hiss as my eyes opened again.

I nuzzled closer.

I felt Diana tense up. My grip grew tighter on her instinctively. She could bolt now. Deep in me, just as I knew there was something wrong with me, Diana knew it too. Her fragrance kicked up as her heart spiked with adrenaline.

“You’re scaring me, Y/N.”

“I know. I’m scared too,” I confessed. “Be very still. Very still,” I asked. “I’ll let you go.”

“Let me go,” she echoed. “Y/N, I don’t know what you’re playing at–”

“Disbelief. I’ve been there,” I said, oddly finding empathy while hunger burned hot. “Just be still. It’ll make it easier.” My gaze shot up to Diana’s profile. Her lip quivered as she peered at me from the corner of her eye, as if looking at me straight on would be too much. Somewhere in the house, a drumming started. So loud it startled me and my body jolted.

Diana moved.

But I moved with her as she tried to push me off.

Our arms and legs tangled as this body unexpectedly gained a strength unbeknownst to me. It pinned her arms to her side as it locked around her. She spasmed, trying to fight this body that no longer belonged to me. Hunger was its own entity, and it screamed for sustenance. In the throes of pushing against me, she kicked at my feet and lost balance. We both went down to the floor, all my weight on top of her as if I was the rock tied to her feet that dragged her to the bottom of a lake.

Silver hair spilled on the rug. Revealed, my gaze zeroed in on the crook of her neck where a vein pulsed. I think I heard her scream but the drumming was so loud it was easy to ignore. My unseeing eyes barely registered my friend’s expression before leaning down and biting on the vein that Dracula had shown me.

Blood inundated my mouth, entrancing me completely. A hollow sound escaped from her as her blood slid down my throat like hot honey. Her hands pushed at me and I held them to the ground. Nothing could perturb this feeling. I was gulping light. My skin felt so hot it might have blistered. I lapped up the blood that spurted from those tiny cuts I had made. Too little. A fountain of blood is what I needed. So I bit, ripped with teeth and syrupy blood bubbled up to be savoured. It pulsed in streams with every desperate beat of her heart.

I swallowed, and swallowed, and swallowed, and swallowed.

I filled myself up until her hands, intertwined with mine, slowly gave up. Distantly, I heard her gurgling a breath. And with it, the river of blood streaming down my throat slowed to a trickle to match the dying pace of her heart.

My tongue poked at the wounds I had done, pressing them as before in search for the even flow of blood of only moments ago, and this time, I felt the texture of torn skin, ripped to ribbons, the awful rubbery muscles of Diana’s neck touched my tongue back, and I recoiled. I sat back, eyes focusing on the scene beneath me, and I kicked away. The hole I made on her neck seemed to stare at me as if the wound I made had life to accuse me. It gaped, like a second, gory mouth, open in shock.

The stairs poked my spine as I pushed myself back, stopping me in my tracks. What remained of blood pooled under Diana. Scarlet entwined with the silver of her hair, contrasting with the waxy tone she had acquired. She could just as easily be confused with a broken doll, limbs askance, parted lips, and the broken porcelain of her neck.

An awful gasping sound came from her, making me gasp in return and scurrying to her side. Her hands spasmed as I came closer. Somehow still alive and yet when I looked in her eyes, there was barely any light there.

“I am so sorry, Diana. I didn’t mean to. I-I don’t know what to do. Di? Do you hear me? Are you there?”

Her eyes rolled to meet me. Maybe she could survive this - I thought for a second - but her eyes lost the determination as she stared at me, a teardrop running down her cheek, and went empty.

“No- no…” the single word from my lips dragged out in the chilling silence of the hallway.

Knelt before her, my tears poured onto the corpse of my friend.

--------------------------------------

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#distorted lullabies #dracula x reader #dracula bbc #bbc dracula #claes bang #dracula daily #nosferatu #robert eggers #bbc dracula fanfic #vampire fanfic

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nocturnalnella · 12 days ago

Note

Alright, so I get the impression you definitely do not write requests, or at least don't plan to in this moment.

BUT I wanted to propose an idea for a Drac oneshot that you might like. Perhaps you could incorporate it as a sort of separate thing to your main story that is connected to it? Idk it doesn't matter.

Let's envision it... reader is sitting by the fireplace, reading or just generally being busy, she's got a small but irritating scab on her thigh or something because the dry air of winter isn't agreeing much with her skin. Dracula doesn't say ANYTHING when he notices her unconsciously picking at it. Because he knows if she peels it, he gets to lap it up. What a freak, right?

I feel so normal about this 🤗

Notes : It’s short but I did not know how far you wanted it to go 🩸

Warnings : blood play, violence ( sexual context )

Words : 315

Pairing : Dracula x Female reader

A Flickering Flame.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Y/N sat cozied up by the fireplace, the warm glow of the flames dancing across her face as she turned the pages of her book. She had been meaning to get back to it for days, but the dry air of winter had been playing havoc with her skin. A small, pesky scab on her thigh had been driving her mad, and she found herself constantly picking at it, trying to scratch the itch.

As she read, her fingers absently reached down to probe the tender skin, her nails grazing the scab. Her eyes never wavered from the page, but her hand moved involuntarily, a habit she was powerless to break.

Dracula stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on her with an unnerving intensity. He had been watching her for some time, studying her as she read, her face aglow in the firelight. His gaze drifted down to her thigh, where her fingers continued to pick at the scab.

He couldn't help but smile to himself as he recalled the countless times he'd seen women like her, driven mad by the simplest things. The way she was so lost in her book, oblivious to his presence, was almost...amusing.

And that scab on her thigh? A little present just waiting to be unwrapped.

Without making a sound, he glided closer, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached out to gently graze the scab with his fangs. Y/N's eyes flickered up to his face, startled, as she felt a shiver run down her spine.

For a moment, they locked gazes, and Dracula's eyes flashed with hunger. Then, with a swift, gentle bite, he sank his fangs into the tender skin of her thigh.

Y/N's eyes widened in shock as a wave of pleasure washed over her. She tried to pull away, but Dracula's grip was gentle, his hold firm. As he drank from her wound, his eyes never left hers, drinking in the sight of her as if it was the only thing that mattered.

"Oh," she breathed, feeling a strange sense of abandon wash over her. "Oh, God."

Dracula's response was low and husky, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, please. Don't be dramatic. It's just a little snack."

As he drank on, his eyes never left hers, and Y/N felt herself melting under his gaze. She was lost in the depths of his eyes, drowning in the hunger that burned within them.

But for now, it was enough that he had taken what he wanted. Enough that he had claimed her as his own, if only for a moment. As he lifted his head, his fangs retracted, and he smiled at her with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Thank you," he said, his voice dripping with charm. "That was lovely."

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. She was still trying to process what had just happened when Dracula vanished into thin air, leaving her sitting alone by the fireplace, her thigh throbbing with a strange new pain.

(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•��)ノ)

#claes bang #dracula bbc #dracula 2020 #dracula fanfiction #vampire fanfiction #count dracula #dracula #vampire smut #vampire x reader #bram stoker

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jeonggukieandcream · 4 months ago

Note

Eu estava pensando em que o Claes bang conhecesse a reader e ele fica apaixonado por ela e confessa o seu amor por ela e ele beija sabendo que a esposa dele a lis Kasper bang traiu ela com reader e ele não tá nem aí e pede a reader em casamento e o Claes e reader acaba fazer sexo no set e o Claes fica sabendo a sua amante é do Brasil Claes Bang ficando sortudo com sua namorada brasileira (e eu pensei Claes bang e reader como um casal mais perfeito de todos)

Sorry, nonnie, but I'm not comfortable writing fanfics about real people. I only write Claes' Dracula x reader on this blog. Thank you for the ask, though!

0 notes

nestingomega · 2 years ago

Text

Thicker than Water

Pairing: Dracula x Female!Reader

Warning: Mentions of Blood, Blood Sucking, Blood Drinking, Vampire Blood Bond, Vampire Fetish

Rating: 18+, first meeting, placed in EP3

Word Count: 1013

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

As you passed the bar, you couldn’t help but feel as though every person had their eyes on you. Secretly, you hoped they would approach you but after going to clubs recently, it wasn’t the norm. Only being open after the sun was long gone, the moon prominently shining as people were everywhere. Some innocently standing by the wall, taking in everything the same as yourself. The others knew exactly what they came for their eyes following every motion and flicker of movement, waiting to sink their claws into their prey. Smiling to yourself, your eyes skirted the rest of the space, couches and tea tables were placed for comfort in the corners. Leaving the middle for a space to get lost in the miasma, the fragrance of vanilla pulsing around Walking towards the middle, you started to sway gently before you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. Turning your head, your eyes locked onto hazel irises as you stared at one another. Time seemed to stand still, his eyes never wavering from yours until his eyes darted to your neck. Breathing in deeply, you smiled, looking at his lips as you spoke.

“H-hi! Sorry I didn’t catch your name..” You gestured to him, your fingers waving in front of you as you trailed off.

“I’m—Dracula.” The man spoke, not once looking at your face as the words left his mouth. When he looked back up to your eyes, he couldn’t help but sniff the air, the sweet aroma wafting from your neck made you irresistible. Your warm blood pulsing through your veins was making it hard to come up with conversation to keep both of you talking, his eyes never drifting away from your eyes or neck for too long. Your eyes widened as the name made you curious. ‘Could he be..what I have yearned for?’

At the same time, you couldn’t help but lean closer. His warm breath heated your cheeks as a unique spice wafted close to your nose, invading your senses. The very essence of him had your heart pounding. Wanting desperately to know the reason why your body couldn’t seem to resist the incessant pull towards him. His beautiful hazel eyes turned dark, like a glass of the sweetest red wine as his hands reached up to your neck.

“It was strange, seeing you walk in. A drop of sun in the dark of the moon’s shadow.” His voice purred out as he looked at your face, admiring your features. His fingers touching your smooth skin as the pads of his fingers traced your pulse point. ‘He’s a vampire, a handsome one at that. Oh now I’m excited.’ You couldn’t move, paralyzed by the hold of this stranger’s effect on you. His nails scraped against the junct of your neck and collarbone and a bead of crimson sprung forth. His tongue darted from his lip and you mentally cursed yourself for finding it incredibly desirable. His finger snatched it up, gently rubbing the warm liquid in a pattern to your pulse point. Moving his hand to his own neck, he pressed the same pattern to his own skin, not a second more your body lurched forward.

Your hands reach up to touch his skin as your hips gently mingle, your fingers intertwined in his dark hair. His eyes leave your as his head dips down to your neck, his tongue slowly dragging against your pulse point. A whimper flies from your lips as you stand at the mercy of his tongue and his lips, so close to your sensitive skin. Your fingers gripped the material of his shirt, the union of his lips and tongue on your neck made it hard to remember to breathe. His hands were at his sides but your whimper brought the man’s arms to action, his fingers gently tracing over your arms landing on your hips. Swirling the tip of his tongue on the place he planned to sink his sharp teeth, he groaned very softly into your flesh, your sweet balm much stronger now that you were bonded together. A union of fervent passion and smoky desire that neither of you could now escape, not that he would want to.

“I won’t lie to you, this will hurt a bit.” In one fluid motion, he sunk his teeth into your skin. A strangled yelp flew from your lips as the sharp pain burned your skin, his warm lips and fingers the only thing grounding you. The club seemed so far away, the only thing you were thinking about was Dracula, his face nuzzled into your neck, drinking your sweet crimson life source. You assumed it was his fingers delicately placing his mark on you but you wanted to be devoured by him, his only solace and the only one that he could ever drink from. Forever his. His hips ground gently against yours as he continued to drink from you, a breathy moan coming from his throat, delighting in the taste of you. He had been alive for many years but you were something special.

#sugar and sage #kinktober #ask sage #kinktober 2022 #sage writes #dracula 2020 #claes bang x reader #fem!reader #vampirekink #bloodkink

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my-fanfic-library · 3 years ago

Text

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [36]

Masterlist

A/N: hello, yes, our beloved Draccyboi is home, and so am I! I’m going to bore nOBODY with a long A/N right now because we all know Reader is about to do something very stupid. I am going to direct you guys (especially my older readers) to the new addition to the masterlist, which is a comprehensive recap of all of the chapters thus far (bar the two I posted yesterday) so that you guys don’t need to reread like 33 chapters lol, (and also Drac left a quick note for you guys yesterday to read in place of a whole essay from yours truly)...aAAANNDD all I shall say for this one is... we got angst.

Warnings: gore

~^*^~

You decided to rid yourself of Jack’s clothes in the silence of the penthouse - which was only broken occasionally by the same soft thuds and scratches that came from upstairs. It didn’t sound like birds at all. Maybe at the beginning, when you had first asked, your mind could have been coerced into a kind of placebo, believing it was birds. But not anymore. Not when Dracula spent so much hidden time away up there. It sounded... it sounded near to human, you thought as you left the bedroom, dressed once more in your own attire.

Maybe it was Dracula upstairs, hidden away and unable to hear you with the door closed. As you climbed the stairs, you called out his name once more, still receiving no response. The soft thud behind the confines of the door had ceased, and it almost deterred you from reaching the apex of the stairs. Almost.

When you reached the door, you pressed your ear firmly against it. As if you were sensed, the soft thudding picked up once more.

“....D-Drac...?” You called out, barely over a whisper.

When the vampire still did not reply, you knew that you were alone. Your fingers curled around the door handle, and you pushed... The door didn’t budge. A soft click resounded when you let go and the door mechanism shot back into place. Weird. The door wasn’t locked, so why wouldn’t it open? Once more, you turned the handle, this time applying the weight of your body to pressure the door into swinging inwards. There was a dull crack, right from the other side of the door, but it only widened by a couple of centimetres.

Had the door been barricaded from the inside...?

The door mechanism sounded once more as you let go of the handle. You shook your arm, readying yourself. You had come too far to give up now. The fact that the door was blocked from the inside seemed to spur you on. What was Dracula hiding? Why was he trying so hard to keep it hidden?

One more time, you twisted the handle, and then forced your entire body into the door, once, twice, three times. Suddenly, you tumbled forwards as the door gave way, and you gasped as you stumbled to catch your footing.

You turned to look at the door, which had bounced back from the wall and was sitting ajar. It has two large planks of wood, splintered on the end where the door had burst open, nailed into it. You gulped at the sight. Something in his room was being kept in, and by the size of all of the boxes lined around the perimeter of the room, and the two sitting in the centre... you had a guess. You spotted the same journal that Jack had many months prior, and you plucked it up.

‘Date: September 18 - specimen M

Unresponsive, as expected. Unable to heal bite correctly, but clearly still capable of surviving.’

What... was this...?

‘Date: October 13’

Hold on... you were in Italy with Dracula on this date... had he come back here...? This I was certainly his handwriting.

‘Specimen C is much more responsive than the others, though no L. It seems that willingness to submit plays a much more important factor in bridification that I first thought.’

Oh no...

Oh no, no, this... this was his hiding hole for his... experiments... He was still trying to find a suitable bride.

All kinds of emotions suddenly threatened to bubble over the edge as you slammed the journal shut and placed it back on the box with some force. Your eyes darted around the room, looking at the boxes. You tried to count them, but there were so many. One of them started scratching once more, and the curiosity, despite the fear, seemed to pull you towards it.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Your head spun over your shoulder, followed by your body, finding Lucy stood at the door. Her mangled body was just as you remembered seeing it last time, smoking just a little around the edges. God, she was repulsive.

“Lucy...” you whimpered, unsure if you were afraid of her or begging her to help you.

“I really would just run if I were you, [First]. I tried to warn you...” Lucy hissed, a black substance dripping from her lips, “look at what he did to me... he’ll do it to you too... do you believe me now...?” Her voice cracked through the air, piercing your ears. She sounded like she was whispering and screaming all at once.

“Help me...” you were about to cry, you could feel the best rush to your cheeks, your heart beating quickly.

“Look in the boxes, [First]... see how much he truly loves you... look and see your future... and then help yourself and LEAVE!” Lucy wailed, disappearing into mist.

You turned your head back to the boxes, it seemed Lucy’s presence, real or not, had surged many of them into life. Howls contained within the wood split into the air, the thuds were coming from almost every box, not in time with each other at all. Your heart was racing. You neared one, with the branding “M” on the side of the box. You gulped, closing in on it. There was a single hole in the middle of the box, identical to all of the others around the room. Just as you stepped to the right, just to let the light shine directly into the hole, an eye appeared. A scream ripped through your lungs, watching as this box, wedged tightly between a dozen others, began to rock.

The wails around you grew louder, and you stumbled over your feet. You turned, sprinting out of the door just in time to hear an almighty crash, and suddenly the wails were louder than ever. They were right behind you. His brides.

“[First]?!” You heard Dracula call your name, rushing into the penthouse. He looked up, dreading the worst as he saw you collide with the balcony, just gripping onto the metal handrail in time to prevent yourself from tumbling over, “what are you doing up there?!” He roared, bounding towards the stairs.

He could hear the grumbles and the cries of his many brides, mostly almost successful, but not quite there.

You turned to face the stairs, watching as Dracula made his way towards you with haste. Then, there was a hand on your shoulder, pulling you backwards and you turned, just enough to see Mark’s face, mangled and blood-stained. You let out another scream, seeing Chelsea behind him, limping out of the room, her neck covered in Dracula’s bites. Mark had a hard grip on you, tugging you into him, and Dracula panicked as he reached the landing.

Mark suddenly tugged harder, and then more hands were on you as you were forced backwards, legs kicking as you tried to dig your heels into the floor to prevent them from pulling you back into the darkness.

“NO!” You screamed.

At your cries, Dracula rushed towards you, his large hands grasping for you.

“OFF!” he bellowed, pumping his limbs harder to reach you.

The mangled bodies of Dracula’s brides were swarming you, tugging at your hair, your clothes, your skin. If you were cut even a tiny bit, shed even one droplet of blood, they would tear you to pieces. You shook your limbs, trying to free yourself from their grasps. But, you just weren’t strong enough, your knees crumpling beneath you as you sunk to the floor. Sobs ripped through your lungs, hoarse cries of sheer terror and resignation as you realised this was the end. You could see Dracula’s face, seething and red as he bared his fangs. Your head was yanked back, and you were forced to look up at Chelsea. Her face had become tight and gaunt, skin much more paler than it ever had been, leathery and having lost its life.

Dracula pushed on, ripping away the bodies one by one, making sure to tear off their heads as he did so. They weren’t quite vampires, yet, so there was no way for them to resurrect after decapitation. A crimson mist settled in the air as Dracula drove his enormous body into the crush. He needed to reach you and fast. All of his creations were hungry, starving even. They wanted blood. They wanted your blood. He knew that the entire time you had been in the penthouse, they had smelled your blood. They had been drooling, driving themselves crazy at the scent. It was so sweet, so tantalising. It left the tongue soaked. If he, a true vampire often had trouble holding himself back, he knew these half-brides would not be able to do the same. They would rip you apart, shred your skin to ribbons, lap up every succulent drop of blood your body had to offer.

He could hear you screaming beneath the bodies, spurring him on to keep tearing away at the flesh. You continued to push back against the hands, uncontrollably sobbing as you tried to give yourself time, give Dracula time to pull you out. Blood was oozing beneath their feet, a sign that the vampire was working overtime to get you out quickly. Soon enough, there were maybe four or five brides left, including both Mark and Chelsea. A large, icy hand grasped your arm firmly and pulled you up, into Dracula’s torso, but as he came to rest his head on top of yours, you pushed away, wanting to get as far away from him as you could.

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed, giving Dracula an icy glare through your bloodshot eyes.

“[First]-“ Dracula began coolly.

“NO! Don’t- don’t you touch me! Ever again! How could you do this?!” You gestured to the other brides, all of the, standing behind Dracula, growling and hissing at you, but knowing better than to go too close to their master.

“[First], listen to me, please, I told you not to go in there-!” Dracula was already growing angry once more. More so at himself for being so foolish than at you.

“What, so you could see if I’d be a great addition to your experiments, huh?! SO I’D BE WILLING FOR YOU TO TURN ME?! SO I WOULD BE THE PERFECT BRIDE?!” You wailed through your tears, stepping backwards, through the blood pooling on the floor, towards the edge of the stairs.

Dracula blinked at you. He didn’t know how to respond to those accusations. Him not wanting to turn you because he knew you deserved better than undeath was truthful. He did not want to curse you with having to live for all eternity, half empty and soulless like himself.

Behind you, on the stairs, all of a sudden, there was an apparition. It was Lucy, this time human, and as beautiful as she had once been. She stood on the top step, so just a little lower down than you, and she had a sinister look on her face. You did not seem to notice her presence.

“What did you say to her?” Dracula growled. You stared at him, noticing his gaze was behind you.

“The truth, Count Dracula,” Lucy taunted, her voice low and hissing, “you are nothing but a monster, no matter how human she makes you feel, you are a monster. You will always resort to your playthings - to your brides. If you won’t let her go, I will.”

To you, the sensation was like tripping over your feet all of a sudden, merely losing your balance. However, to Dracula, the truth was as clear as day. Lucy reached up, tugging hard on the back of your shirt, yanking you backwards. As your arms flailed, they seemed to bat her right out of existence and you tumbled backwards, down the stairs.

Dracula screamed, rushing to grasp you, but it was too late, you collapsed into a ball at the bottom of the stairs. The Count was frozen in place. He watched you carefully. You didn’t move. You didn’t even seem to be bleeding. Immediately, the tears welled up in his eyes. The sound behind him, the sound of his stupidity, of his obsession with having a lifelong partner, it rang loud in his ears. With an animalistic scream, he turned, lunging for the undead Mark as his talon-like fingernails turned his flesh to ribbons.

Until every last bride of his was utterly destroyed, Dracula continued his ferocious outburst, unable to suppress the anger that filled him up. Every particle of his being was red. Red. Red. Red.

And then it was gone, as quickly as it had came. He turned towards the stairs, dripping head to toe in blood, and was frozen once more.

You were gone.

“[First]!” Dracula called out, throwing his legs over the glass balcony of the landing and hitting the floor below. His eyes traced the room, finding your form haunched over at the front door. You were trying to open it, but something was wrong, “are you alright?” Dracula asked quietly, as he came to a stop behind you.

“Leave me alone....” you gasped, trying once more for the door.

“[First], you’re injured, let me look at you, darling.”

“Don’t... call me that.” You were trying to be stern, but you were gasping for breath, unable to hold your body up.

“Look at me.” Dracula ordered lowly. You did not comply.

“I will never look at you again.” You vowed in a whisper. You could hold your body up no more, sinking down to the floor to lean against it. Dracula watched you twist your head away, so that you didn’t have to look at him, but your body was sprawled out in his direction. Your left arm was bent at an awkward angle as you clutched it to your body with your right. There was a large gash on your temple, blood streaming down your face, cradling your jaw and slowly inching down your neck. There was also something poking out of your shirt... fuck... was that a rib?

“My sunlight, you are injured, please let me take a look at you, I can’t leave you like this.” Dracula’s voice was hushed as he knelt down, eyeing your body. You were in a bad state.

“Get away from me.” You chocked, “how could you do that...? To Mark...? To Chelsea...? How could you do that to me?” A stray tear slipped down your cheek. Dracula had never felt this emotion before. Was it remorse? He didn’t quite know.

“Darling, please, you need to understand...” Dracula trailed off. How could he explain any of this?

“How could I possibly understand, Dracula?” You sighed, “was I not enough for you, even though temporary...?” Your voice grew quieter. Dracula watched as you struggled to keep your eyes open, “I thought after Renfield... after Lucy... you’d stop... but... you...” you had no more energy to give, your body finally shutting down. Pain throbbed in your head, your arm, your chest. The edges of your vision began to speckle with darkness. You couldn’t even hold your head away from Dracula’s direction, so the last thing you saw as your ears begun to ring and your vision completely fade was Dracula, crying, reaching out to clutch you close to him.

~^*^~

“Get the fuck out before I rip your head off.” Jack spat, pacing down the hallway towards the vampire. He sent the taller man a most disgusted look, and continued pacing forwards as he waited for a reply.

“Jack, I’m not leaving her-“ Dracula argued quietly.

“Yes the fuck you are. I swear to god, Dracula, stay the fuck away from her.” At the beginning of his sentence, Jack had reached close proximity to the vampire, and had reached up to grasp the collar of his shirt. Dracula emitted a low growl from deep in his chest, balling his fists.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, if you are going to cause a scene I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you both to leave.” A nurse appeared, looking rather reluctant in her words. Her eyes were blown wide, eyebrows turned up in worry. Jack immediately dropped the cloth in his hands, stepping back as to suggest he would go no further.

“Sorry, I’ll go back inside to [First].” Before Jack could get a grip on Dracula’s shirt, the Count had slipped back into the hospital room.

It had been just yesterday that you had discovered Dracula’s... collection, and you had yet to wake up. Dracula had ran through London city with you in his arms, crying in the fear that the damage was done, that you had succumbed to your injuries. If it weren’t for your pulse, Dracula would have believed that you were gone. The doctor had told Dracula that you were lucky. A big gash on the head and no signs of brain damage, a broken rib that had slightly dislodged yet not touched your lungs, and your broken arm that had barely missed the main artery that would have killed you within a few hours. Lucky didn’t even begin to cover it.

Since bringing you into the hospital, Dracula had paced around while the doctors had rushed you into surgery to fix your rib into place and check over you, and once he knew you were okay, had left for only 10 minutes (he had been guilty of shape shifting into a bat to avoid traffic) to wash the blood from his clothes and change. Of course, doctors had seen him dripping head to toe in blood, and in all honesty, he had no idea how he had managed to convince them to leave him be. After he had changed, he hadn’t left your side, until the ward had been called, asking that anybody in Miss [Last]’s room was removed. And then Jack had showed up to confront the vampire.

Looking down at your sleeping form, Dracula sighed.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I am so sorry.” He cooed, gently grasping your hand in his own, “how stupid could I have been?”

Your warmth radiated through his hand, and eased slowly up his arm. The feeling was now so familiar to him, so comfortable, but he still relished in it, especially now. He truly hoped that you had been delirious with pain when you had pushed him away. He hoped that you hadn’t meant any of the words that you had said.

His mind wandered back to those warmer months when he had been able to so secretly keep those many failed brides hidden from you. Truthfully, he had been collecting ever since he had first left the cold north for London. He had not expected to have acquired so many... and in all honesty, Chelsea and Mark had been... well, sick creations. Just to see if he could. God, he wished he could repent. He wished he could take it call back.

A sensation pulled him back to earth - your hand squeezing his. It was his gravity, grounding him as he looked down at your face. Your head was tilted a little, facing him almost perfectly. The sunlight from the window behind him streamed lovingly onto your face, casting you in angelic light. He watched as your lips curved down into a frown, eyebrows furrowing from the bright light. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open.

“Drac...?” Your voice was hoarse and soft.

“Shh, darling, you don’t need to speak.” Dracula reached forwards, caressing your cheek. You were burnt up, likely from the medicine.

“I...”

“Shhh, it’s okay, darling. Do you remember what happened?” All of Dracula’s features were softened as he looked at you. As you blinked up at him, you couldn’t help but feel like he truly adored you. You squinted your eyes in thought, Dracula slowly rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

“I...” could you remember what happened? You remembered someone pulling at your back right as you fell, you were sure of it...

“It’s alright, I’m here.” Drac whispered. As his voice lulled you, flashes of yesterday came to your mind. The room, the stairs.

“.... I don’t want you here...”

“You don’t mean that...” he countered gently.

“Yes I do... I can’t trust you...” your eyes begun to well up. No matter what you did, no matter how close you were to him, Lucy was right. Your fate was going to be sealed in one of those boxes, doomed to be a failed bride.

“No, don’t say that, it’s all a misunderstanding.” Dracula’s own voice was still soft, so gentle, like he was afraid of you. Carefully, you lifted your hand to remove his touch.

“Don’t do that, Dracula,” you chocked, trying hard to not start crying, “don’t manipulate me like you always do. All you do is let me down... Lucy, Zoe, Daniel, Mark, Chelsea... You lied to me over and over again, you came back to England while we were in Italy, didn’t you? I don’t know what exactly it is you want from me, what kind of sick game you’re playing, but I won’t play it anymore. I don’t want to become like Mark, like Lucy. I want to live. I want to live knowing the man I love would never have a room full of corpses ready to fucking feast on me.”

“Listen to me, [First], you’re all over the place because of the drugs-“ Dracula tried to reason, now holding his own tears back. But you refused to listen to him. This was the final straw.

“No, Dracula, you listen to me. You need to go. You knew those brides were dangerous for me, fuck, some of them were people I knew and cared about-“ you stopped yourself as your voice cracked, tears near the brink, “I can outrun Renfield. I know I can. I don’t need you anymore. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“...no...” Dracula whispered, “I can’t leave you. I... you can’t.”

“I’m not giving you a choice. Please just get out, I can’t bear to look at you anymore.” Slowly, painfully, you turned your head away from him, as well as your heart.

~^taglist^~

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bang-and-a-blintz · 3 years ago

Text

See The Light - Dracula x Reader

Hey y'all! Damn it's been a minute since I've posted anything and I think it's been over a year since I've done any writing at all. Fucking hell of a writer's block there, but I'm baaaaaack and just in time for spooky season!

I've had this on the back burner in my mind for a long time and just now finally got the motivation to finish it, so hope y'all enjoy!

~~~

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Relationship: Dracula/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Dubious Consent, Death, Ritualistic sex. Basically you chain up Dracula for a blood ritual and ride the shit out of that sexy vamp. Don't like? Don't read.

Word Count: 3,294

As night fell around the courtyard, shrouding it in darkness, you stood alone and watched the gated entrance with eager eyes. The trap had been set, the honeypot was no doubt tantalizing enough to lure in its prey, and now all you had to do was wait. Although your skin tingled uncomfortably and your anxiety spiked at every faint noise in the distance, you managed to keep your breath even and continued to wait patiently.

It wont be long now.

The monster would surely be keen to reclaim his lost possession. You glanced over with a smirk at the bound man kneeling several meters in front of the wrought iron gates. His pathetic cries had faded to silence awhile ago and now the only signs of life, for lack of better term, were the tremors that violently shook his body. Almost instinctually - akin to a muscle memory from his past life.

Suddenly, a barrage of high-pitched shrieks flooded the courtyard as hundreds of bats poured over the high stone walls and flew rampantly in circles around you. It was as if the winds had pushed in a furious tornado of the flying creatures, filling the previous silence with their horrifying screams and loudly flapping wings.

Instead of reacting with terror, you felt a grin pull at your lips. Anyone else would at least feel a bit perturbed by the unsettling onslaught of the foreboding bats but you were emphatically giddy.

It was finally time.

You knew that he was hiding within the wolf the moment the creature came padding up to the iron gates. Wolves never came that close to the convent before…they knew better. But if that wasn’t enough of a glaring sign, the glowing of its dark eyes certainly was, and what happened next quickly confirmed your suspicions.

You watched with rapt attention as the man clawed and ripped his way out from the belly of the poor beast. By the time he stood before you, naked as the day he was born and arms spread proudly at the grotesque display, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I have heard stories of your dramatics, Count Dracula, but you have truly outdone yourself this time.”

His face lit up with a sharp smile that spread from ear to ear, “You were expecting me.”

“Yes.” You said, unable to keep the mirth from your face, “And you took your sweet time, didn’t you?”

Dracula stepped up to the gate, gripping the bars tightly with his clawed hands as he peered at you, eyes squinting in curiosity.

“Why?”

“I have plans for you, Count.” You sauntered up to the gate and eyed the vampire appreciatively, feeling heat pool in the pit of your stomach as you cast your gaze over his bloody, naked form.

He was a rather attractive monster…and he would do just nicely.

To his surprise, you brought out the giant skeleton key and slid it into the lock, keeping eye contact with his intense stare as you slowly turned it. Dracula’s head tilted slightly in observance as the chains fell and clattered onto the ground by your feet. With practiced movements, you pushed the the gate open and then placed your hands on your hips in satisfaction as they swung away to reveal a pleasantly unobstructed view of the naked vampire.

“No! No, no, please! Please don’t let him take me back there!”

The desperate cries drew your attention back to the prisoner. His bright blue eyes were wide and bloodshot and tears poured down his cheeks as he regarded the Count with abject horror.

“Ah, there you are, Johnny!” Dracula was only met with more pleas and sobs from the withered man. Nevertheless the bat grinned toothily at him before turning back to face you, his eyes darkened as his lips fell into a straight line, “If you would kindly return my bride to me, Sister, perhaps I’ll spare you from tearing you limb from limb…”

You chuckled lowly and shook your head, “Lovely offer, but no.”

With a snap of your fingers, poor Johnny gave one final scream before his neck turned in a rather unnatural angle and his body dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Those pretty blue eyes were blank in a never-ending stare. Completely lifeless…well, at least he was actually dead now.

Dracula snarled viciously. His whole body tensed, desperately wanting to lunge at you in hopes of ripping you apart, as promised, but he was still unable to cross the threshold of the convent. That is, until you curled a finger towards the naked and bloodied beast, inviting him in.

“Come now, boy, you know you want a taste.” You said with a wink, curving a single finger towards yourself in a come hither movement.

He was slightly taken aback but still moved forward, crossing the entrance easily. After a few steps he felt a strange hum, as if the ground beneath him was rumbling and he glanced down. There was something off about the cobblestones. Some sort of unnatural engraving in the rock caught his attention and he cocked his head to follow the pattern. It looped back around in a giant circle and there were lines dissecting the space in between. All too quickly he realized what it was and froze completely.

A pentagram.

Dracula’s dark eyes darted back to you with a sudden flicker of uncertainty. His growl was menacing as he went to lunge forwards in an obvious attempt to rip out your throat in retribution for killing his latest toy…but it was far too late for that.

You quickly murmured the spell, “Ego te captis, filus dracones. Quidem sepositam et conditam, meus es tu.”

And with another snap, the vampire’s eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed to the ground before he could step one foot out the carved circle.

~~~

Count Dracula woke up confused, still naked, and held down by chains to an iron bench with a medieval looking muzzle locked onto the lower half of his face. He snarled viciously, attempting to break himself free from the bonds he suddenly found himself in, but it was no use. They would not budge. His darkened eyes took in his surroundings and the vampire quickly realized he was in some sort of cave. There were candles lit all around, their wax melting down the rock walls and lights dancing across the rough textures created an eerie glow.

Looking up, Dracula could see the full moon casting its light down upon him through a large hole in the cave’s ceiling. It illuminated a glowing circle around his bound figure, but besides the faint illumination from the candles, he could not see anything else.

That is until a hooded figure approached him from the darkness and he tensed instinctually, his body immediately spiraling into a predatory attack mode. Unfortunately he was unable to do much aside from writhing against his chains and growl, snapping his jowls beneath the mask.

“Release me now.” He demanded darkly, “If you know what’s good for you.”

With a laugh, you lifted the hood and smirked when his eyes narrowed in recognition. “Oh I know exactly what is good for me, Count, and releasing you from your bonds is not my intention.”

“And what is your intention, witch?”

“Nothing you should be concerned with right now. All you need to do is sit there and be a good bat. Shouldn’t be too hard, hm?”

Dracula scoffed.

Grabbing a bucket full of water and a cloth, you made your way over to him and began to clean off the remains of the poor wolf Dracula was covered in. Gently and methodically, you ran the cool wet rag along his arms and chest and back. Tension was radiating from his body, but you ignored the stiffness of his form.

“What is the purpose of this?” He asked after a moment.

You smiled to yourself, “I am fulfilling my dark lord’s wishes, Count.”

“And those are?”

“He demands a sacrifice, of course.” Speaking calmly as you began to drag the cloth down his toned thighs and down towards his feet. “You were chosen specifically to fulfill His prophecy.”

Dracula chuckled lowly, “My dear, do you know what I am?”

“I do.”

“So you should know that I cannot be killed.” His chest rumbled with a dark laugh, “You’re more foolish than I thought.”

You did not respond. Instead, after finishing cleaning off the bloodied bat, your hands made their way slowly back up his legs and you kept your eyes locked on his as you made contact with his cock. With gentle and teasing strokes, you cleansed his steadily stiffening member while Dracula rose his eyebrows and grinned at your ministrations.

“Well this is interesting,” He said, relaxing slightly in your gentle yet firm grasp, “Usually your kind’s rituals are nothing more than a messy slaughter. You must really take this job seriously.”

The smile you wore revealed nothing to the Count as you silently finished cleaning, working his cock up to half mast. You put the rag and the bucket off to the side and knelt down in front of the chained beast. He licked his lips beneath the metal mask, regarding you with delight as you leaned down to bring your mouth around him.

Dracula eagerly spread his legs further apart in accommodation while you slowly swallowed him all the way to the base of his shaft and nuzzled your nose in his pubic hair before coming back up, your tongue pressing against the sensitive spot under the head of his cock. He gave a wretched moan at that and you began bobbing your head up and down earnestly, dragging your nails along his thighs as he started to growl and thrust his hips up into your mouth. After a few moments, he was fully engorged and panting almost desperately, you popped off with a smirk and stood back while he groaned.

“You’re nothing but a wretched tease, woman.” His chest heaved while he glared at you, clearly unhappy that you abruptly halted his growing pleasure.

You simply ignored him as you left to dispose the dirtied rag and water. The next items up for the ritual were a bundle of sacred herbs along with a large bowl of fresh blood to which the vampire instantly sensed despite his current predicament. His eyes immediately pooled crimson and his teeth extended sharply beneath the mask. The lust he felt grew tenfold with his instinctual hunger for blood and became quite the dangerous combination as his mind went positively feral.

Dracula struggled against his chains but could not break free no matter how hard he tried. You didn’t even bat an eye while you went about burning the flowers around the room. After a few moments, you dipped your fingers into the bowl and painted the ritualistic symbols on the floor in a circle around the vampire. Once finished with those preparations, you put the bowl away and cleaned your hands once more before returning to the Count.

He could not do much besides growl and hiss at your actions. His arms straining within his binds, whole body tense, and his erection bouncing desperately against his abdomen.

Exactly where you wanted him.

“Suscipe, quaeso, hoc sacrificium pro aeterna nocte, tenebrus dominus. Adsum abyssus abyssum invocat, ab intra ad astra.” You chanted in a dulcet tone, eyes closed and hands up reaching towards the moon’s light which peaked and shined brightly through the large hole at the top of the cave. “Audeamus, ab uno disce omnes, ad meliora. Semper ad meliora. Ave Sathanas!”

As the spell left your lips, the light of the moon above began to turn red and signaled the start of the eclipse.

It was finally time.

Grasping the sides of the robe, you peeled it back and let the garment fall down around you, revealing your fully bare skin to the vampire. Dracula’s eyes narrowed as he tilted his head back and observed the moon’s glow upon your body.

With a wink and a wicked grin, you straddled the beast and nestled him in nicely between your legs, feeling his length twitch with interest between your bodies.

“Finally,” He groaned as you dragged your nails through his abundant chest hair and slid yourself along his cock, “I was wondering when you’d cease your useless Latin gibberish and come finish what you started.”

Undulating your hips in time with his own desperate thrusts, you let out a soft moan as his tip rubbed deliciously against your clit. You smirked, eyes closed and not ceasing your movements as you responded breathlessly, “Shut your mouth, Count Dracula, you’ll be needing that wicked tongue for more important things soon enough.”

He growled and snapped his jaws from behind the metal bars of the mask but you just laughed. Using one hand on his shoulder to help anchor yourself, you reached the other around to grasp the handle of a silver blade that had been hidden behind him.

“If you truly did your research, my dear, you would know that won’t affect me much.” The vampire exhaled out harshly, eyeing the knife with a small amount of amusement.

Your smirk grew wider, “Count Dracula, I believe you greatly underestimate your weaknesses.”

At your words, his brows furrowed and you could see his jaw drop slightly beneath the mask. Without hesitation, you slashed open your palm with the blade and the change within the vampire was instantaneous. Dracula’s vision narrowed in on your open wound and he eagerly snapped towards the fresh spilt blood that you held just barely out of his reach.

“Faciam ut mei memineris.” You murmured softly, allowing a few drops of your blood to spill through the bars of the mask onto his awaiting lips. Instantly, he was overcome by lust and thrusted up desperately against you, unable to decipher the story within the liquid as he usually can. It was muddled and shrouded by darkness, but overwhelmingly delicious, the finest and most decadent flavor he had ever tasted.

And he needed more.

The moon was nearly a quarter covered, turning the same hue as the candles ensconcing the cave while you painted a bloody inverted cross on the vampire’s forehead. “Audeamus more ferarum.”

With a quick movement, you grasped a handful of his dark hair and yanked his head backwards, revealing his crimson eyes to the gradually reddening moon above, and sank yourself down onto his length.

The Count was very well endowed, something you had noticed earlier when you had swallowed his thick cock down your throat, but the burn of him stretching you from the inside was something else entirely.

And you fucking loved it.

The feeling of your warmth suddenly wrapped tightly around him made the vampire gasp in pleasure and buck up harshly, drawing out a low moan from your lips. Before he could move again, you clenched down on his cock and made his dark eyes roll back, hands gripping the bench below with such astounding strength that it creaked in protest. You smeared the blood that continued to ooze from the wound on your palm up into his hair as you carded your fingers through his locks and then gripped a handful at the base of his skull, forcing him to meet your gaze as you began to move.

There was no more talking. Instead the cavern filled with the animalistic noises of hisses, gasps, moans, and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh as the two of you moved in tandem to chase that precious release.

The moon above grew darker and redder, while you and Dracula drew closer and closer to the precipice. He filled you so well, not able to do much besides thrust up into you with abandon, but the way his hips canted with yours allowed him to hit that spot that made your breath catch in your throat while you could do nothing but hold on and eagerly match his movements.

You could feel the pressure build with you and you could tell Dracula was nearing his own edge as well, so you leaned over to nip and lick and kiss at his exposed skin along his neck, shoulders, and chest. Raking a hand across his fur while the other still firmly angled his head in whichever direction you felt fit. All the vampire could do was grind and thrust up into you to the best of his ability, chasing that delicious pleasure he rarely ever sought out.

The Count was clearly enjoying it despite the predicament of his bindings.

Bringing your wounded hand up to the bars of his mask, you felt the tip of his wicked tongue lap at the still flowing blood, igniting his lust even more as his hips bucked urgently and began to stutter, his entire body shaking with rapture.

As the moon filled completely with red, you felt your orgasm take over and cried out in ecstasy, squeezing around him tightly and gripping Dracula’s metal muzzle, wrenching his head to the side, and latching your teeth onto his jugular with a bite so brutal that it would have broken his skin if he was mortal. The viciousness he rarely received sent him catapulting over the edge with a roar, cumming so intensely that his vision bursted with lights.

Gasping for air, you managed to recite the final incantation for the spell to be complete as the vampire came down from his own high, “Semper ad meliora, consummatum est, rege Satanas.”

Dracula could barely comprehend your muttering, his own chest heaving despite his lack of need for oxygen, but his eyes snapped to yours as you brought your hands up to unlock the mask and let it drop to the floor with a loud clank. He stilled at the movement, watching you like a predator would his prey while you smeared a bloodied handprint from cheek to cheek across your lips.

To his genuine surprise, you leaned forward and pressed your mouth to his in a searing kiss. The vampire wasted no time licking the blood messily from your lips, groaning and twitching in tandem as his cock kicked once more within the warmth of your cunt.

You pulled away with a grin, observing his dazed stupor with giddiness. It was a powerful feeling to behold this beast in such a primal state and your heart hammered viciously against your chest as you did so.

The vampire’s voice was low when he finally spoke again, “I thought you spoke of a sacrifice, my dear. You understand I am immortal, right?”

The smile you wore grew wider with delight and you pressed your lips to his once more, glancing upwards to see the moon’s red hue was just about to fade away. Your eyes darted back to the naked and chained vampire with his cock still buried deep inside you.

“Yes, I am well aware, Count Dracula. You, however, are not the sacrifice.”

His brow crinkled with confusion before the realization dawned on him as you reached around once more to unlock the binds that held him down.

The sound of the metal clanking against the stone ground was deafening and Dracula tilted his head back to regard you from over his nose, his crimson eyes searching yours for any last trick up your sleeve. Licking his lips slowly, almost seductively, his mouth stretched into an evil grin and he eyed the pulsing vein in your neck like a prized possession.

You took a breath and angled your chin upwards invitingly, “I am.”

In an instant, the dark creature lurched forward to sink his sharpened teeth into your throat and ripped out your jugular with a single snap.

Tagging:

@vissidarte213 @hyacinth-meadow @gabesprincess @festering-queen @thebeautyofdisorder @torntaltos @guardianbelle @greenisms @feralstare @profiler-in-courage @enchantedfleur @alma37

(just in case anyone else was interested - feel free to message me if you’d like to be removed or added)

#claes bang x reader #dracula x f!reader #dracula bbc #claes bang thirst squad #dracula x ofc #dracula x reader #n/sfw #the thirst is still strong with this one #happy spooky season y'all!#this one is deliciously diabolical in all the best ways #muhahahahaha

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menace-y · 4 years ago

Text

Just to remind the entire BBC Dracula fandom that there’s a Discord Server for us right here:

https://discord.gg/ba2jspCr

@alma37 @bang-and-a-blintz @bittenlove @mitsukatsu @gothicdracula @jeonggukieandcream @nosferatvpussy @flutteringphalanges

#dracula #dracula bbc #bbc dracula #draculabbc #bbcdracula #dracula 2020 #dracula netflix #dracula bbc x reader #dracula 2020 x reader #claes bang #claes bang dracula #claes bang x reader #mark gatiss #steven moffat #mofftiss #netflix #draculaedit #claesbangedit

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cupofclouds · 4 years ago

Video

youtube

🎃Hello lovely humans 🎃

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone who has been subscribing to my channel. It gives me tremendous joy to feel that you guys enjoy the ambiences I make and it brings me happiness knowing that maybe they will help you with concentration, sleep or even anxiety. Thank you so much 💕

To honor Mabon & Samhain/Halloween Season I decided to make a little “spooky” twist for the themes of October's ambiences; starting with the one and only: Count Dracula (in particular the 2020 adaptation from the BBC, which can give us mixed feeling but we can’t deny Claes Bang’s voice is a gift for all humanity).

In this ambience you will spend a very chilled evening in Dracula’s library, where you will wander and read. The sounds of the wind, the fireplace, the wolves and Dracula’s whispers will embrace you and make you feel cosy and safe.

I hope you enjoy it! Headphones recommended.

Hugs,

Cup of Clouds

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nosferatvpussy · 2 years ago

Text

distorted lullabies [chapter XXVI]

Word count: 7k

Warnings: the usual // +18

Pairing: Dracula x reader

AO3 link | masterlist

A/N: Hello, dears. Thank you for sticking with me, and also thank you for all the new readers leaving me the sweetest comments, you have definitely motivated me to finish this chapter.

I think we are possibly 5 chapters away to the ending? Let's see if can do one chapter a month. Better than 2 chapters a year T.T

___________________________________________________________

The thirst for blood left her pupils dilated. Deep, black pits that reflected Count Dracula’s own eyes. Tears sprang from her eyes but he cared little for them. Grin frozen on his lips, it was all he could not to laugh in satisfaction as Y/N leaned to the mirror and ran a forefinger on her own teeth.

“No. No, no, no. I’m human. I’m still human. I have a pulse.” She pressed two fingers to her neck, just below her jaw. “Don’t I? I c-can’t— can’t feel it.”

“Your heart is still beating, darling.” Loud and clear. A lovely rampant cadence to his ears.

She shook her head, making more tears flow down her face, and turned around to face him once again. Careless, she wiped the saliva that glistened on her chin and clenched her jaw, which immediately elicited a sob from her. Her hands closed around his arms, nails scratching his blazer, as she pressed her face to his chest taking the deep breaths he told her to take.

“It’s getting worse,” she cried. He nodded, staring at his reflection over her head. He shushed her, ran his fingers down her hair, cradled her. The picture of comprehension as he anchored all her fear, but still he grinned. “Earlier today when I was taking a bath,” she swallowed and when she spoke again, her voice was a rasp through the new sharp teeth. “...I drank my own blood. Just a mouthful. I started bleeding when I went into the tub and couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to see if it would taste differently, like Johanna. It was just a little bit.”

Beneath the scent of fear clouding the air, the heady scent of her blood lingered, emanating from her stronger than ever as it seeped from the unhealed bites.

“And did it taste like her?” He asked.

“It tasted–” she stopped, stiffening on his arms. “Tasted a bit like you. Sweet. It didn’t have the metallic taste of blood.” By her demeanour alone, he understood that she only now realised this.

A chuckle escaped him, and she looked up at him, scowling.

“Y/N, this is more than I ever hoped for,” he said, still chuckling. She let go of him and he grabbed her face in his hands to make her stay. “You understand now that there is no reason to be afraid about what comes next, don’t you? You’re my perfect creation.”

“Did you know this was going to happen?”

“That these would grow?” He tapped a finger to her lip and he earned a slap on his hand. “No. This is new.”

“But how? You told me that in order to become a vampire you will need to–”

“Kill you, yes, but you are not yet a vampire, despite what may indicate.” He chuckled again. It wasn’t only that she was his image now, but that he knew for certain now that she was his forever. There was no doubt that she would survive this change, whether he gave her what she longed for or not. “Y/N, Y/N,” he repeated, delighting himself in hearing her name and knowing that he would say it for the next hundreds of years and those same eyes, intelligent and willful, would look at him. “Oh, you are perfect.” He lowered his lips to hers. She stood stock still as his tongue pushed against hers and wrapped around the sharp canine in her mouth.

“I don’t understand— how? Do I have these because I drank my own blood?” She asked, pulling away from him, and leaving the bathroom. He followed her in calm strides as she paced in light footfalls across his bedroom.

“Darling,” he sighed, and crossed his arms as he leaned on the door frame. “It’s easy to ignore everything. You’re clever, but you refuse to acknowledge all signs of change.”

She stopped pacing, stiff, and looked at him from behind her hair. “Signs of change?”

“Everytime I drink your blood I can tell that you feel it,” he said, staring back at her, waiting for some form of recognition. He threw his arms up. “Food doesn’t taste the same, and it’s been getting worse for the last few weeks. Your hearing is better, or do you think listening to Diana enter your house from two stories up is usual? Your phone ringing annoys you and hearing conversations metres away from you is completely normal, I imagine.” He chuckled as he finished listing all that he could remember as fast as he mind supplied it. Leaving his spot by the doorframe, Dracula stepped towards her. “Last night, I felt your hunger for Johanna as I drank your blood. You smelled her as well as I did, and you craved her.”

Her stare unfocused as he spoke.

“It’s your blood,” she murmured. “It did this to me.”

“Of course it’s my blood, Y/N.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again, waiting for her to relent. She always did. “I fed you with it. I gave you what makes me myself because you begged me for it. Whenever you asked me, I gave it to you.” She sighed and lowered her head. “Do you remember that you begged me to try loving you? Or are you going to conveniently forget that now because you are discontent with what it brought you?”

“My memory is good enough,” she answered, then turned her cheek, putting her mouth away from his. “You saw it happen and you never told me.”

“You saw for yourself.”

“At the risk of biting Mallory!” She exclaimed, and covered her ears with her hands. “I wanted to. I thought about it.” Blinking tears away, she clenched her jaw, and whined.

“Don’t do that, it will hurt worse.”

“I couldn’t look at her,” she continued as if he hadn’t said a word. “I kept thinking how easily I could tear into her skin, like ripping paper.” Her shoulders drooped as her body swayed closer to his. “Will it always be like this?”

“After centuries of experimenting, everything with you has been—”

“I’m not one of your fucking experiments!” She yelled, pushing at him. When he didn’t release his grasp, she delivered a blow that would have hit his face if he hadn’t dodged. “Let me go. I won’t stay near you a minute longer.” For a second, he was captivated by the sight of fangs glimpsing through her lips and didn’t take in her words, but then he let go.

“Leave, then,” he said, gesturing with his arm for the door. She glanced at it, frowning. He smiled. “Leave. Open that door, go down the steps if you want to. I have no problem with prying you away from someone’s neck.”

“Take me home.”

“No.”

“Then you fucking leave!” She shouted, glaring at him. He didn’t move. Y/N stepped forward and pushed at his chest. Again, he didn’t move, nor did he budge. “Leave me here while you entertain guests and act the gentleman. Do it. I’ll stay like one of your fucking experiments! That’s what I fucking am to you.” She pushed, and pushed. He remained still, like a statue. “I hate you,” she declared. Behind her eyes, filled with tears and framed in a scowl, he saw her rage and her fear. In his ears, her heartbeat sang a hesitant melody.

“No, you don’t,” he said.

“I do.” She shook him by the lapels of his coat. “Right now, I do.”

“You love me.” His hand found the nape of her neck and tilted her head up.

“Fuck you,” she murmured, without any of her usual defiance. A halfhearted insult.

“Insolent.”

He leaned down, crushing her lips to his, and for the first time, her teeth cut him. Low on his chest, he laughed as Y/N’s mouth became urgent and sliced his bottom lip again. He couldn’t remember something other than his own teeth piercing his skin, which had become nearly impenetrable over the years.

When she pushed him again, her lips never leaving his, it was to steer him towards the bed. Dracula gave in to her whims to amuse himself, so he perched on the edge of the bed, with the full expectation that Y/N would realise what was happening and stop, but she climbed on top of him in a constricting embrace that could’ve squeezed air out of his lungs. Thirst made her demanding, and not a particle of her self control remained as it consumed her. Yet, it was not something that weighed especially on Dracula’s mind as her mouth veered to his neck. The brushes of lips, sloppy and wet with saliva, as teeth scraped below his ear completely stole any sense of responsibility to remind her about self control.

His hands followed the curves of her legs to each side of him, fingers pressing to feel the delicious softness of her thighs. Almost as if teasing him, her hips brushed his as she moved on his lap. The scent of blood wafted off her, all honey to his senses. Her hair stroked his face as arms went about him. He pulled her closer until not an inch of air separated them.

Y/N bit hard, and when the tougher skin on his neck didn’t break as easily as the skin of his lips, she bit even harder. Cold pinpricks slid from his neck to his spine, quickening to pleasure as her teeth sank deeper. Dracula pressed their bodies together and tried not to squeeze her, lest he break her. In her need, she tried to lick the little blood that poured out while her teeth scraped shallow cuts. He groaned, shuddering as he tried to regain control.

Fingernails grazed his scalp as she took hold of his hair and pulled his head to the side. The raw desperation sent her heart hammering. It beat against his own rib cage. Finally, she let go of it all and gave into blind desire, as he always wished since he observed the beginnings of change. He wanted to taste her too, but mostly he needed to feel what she felt as she tried to consume him. Feeling her draw his blood out, thoughtlessly. He needed to know if beyond it all there was still her love, lying there in secrecy and reserved for everything that he was.

A rumbling growl sounded from the depths of his chest. His gums stung lightly as his teeth sharpened. As Y/N tried to bite him again to make more blood flow, Dracula shut his eyes. If he were to drink her now, it would only increase her hunger. The other — more likely — possibility was that he would lose himself along with her and kill her. He had made her a promise. He wouldn’t break it.

Her hips came down his, and Dracula smiled. So often the thirst for blood blended into another kind of need. With her, they were one and the same. It was easy enough to redirect his blood lust.

Quickly, Dracula grabbed both her hands, twisted them behind her back, and shoved her face first on the bed as he climbed on top of her.

“No!” She protested, struggling madly to try and escape his grip. “I need more. Please. More!”

Holding both her wrists in one hand, he pushed her dress up with the other one. A black garter belt paired with stockings and sheer underwear met his gaze. Y/N’s struggle lessened to a disheartened wriggle as he made this discovery. He preferred her without any underwear, but lingerie like this was a strong contender to change his mind. The straps pressed down on each cheek and he trailed them with his fingers, then pulled them, causing them to snap against her skin and eliciting a yelp. That seemed to trigger something in her because she twisted her wrists inside his grip and pulled free — for a moment. Dracula captured her hands again and brought them behind her back as he pressed her down on the bed.

“The more you struggle, the more I’m going to take my time with you.”

“Please,” she sobbed. “I need more blood. That wasn’t enough.”

“You bit me in the wrong place, dear,” he explained. He caressed the thin red welts the straps had left in her butt cheeks. “It’s easy to miss the jugular at first. Takes practice.” His hand closed on her ass, spreading her open before him. “Some veins are easier to find, for example, there’s one right here in the inner thigh —” he slipped his hand lower to trace the spot and Y/N raised her butt higher as his knuckles brushed the ever growing wetness of her underwear “ — that I particularly like.”

“Show me where to bite and I will, just– please,” she panted. “Let me. Plea– oh!” A slap landed on her ass.

“Beg all you want.” He chuckled, and slapped her again. Y/N squealed and kicked her feet. His hand stung from the slap. “I’m used to hearing it. Nothing you say will make me take pity on you.” Another slap brought a blush to her buttcheek. Y/N kicked her feet again as pain coursed her body. She had her face turned to the side as she glared at him out of the corner of her eye. His hand came down once again. Her body jumped involuntarily but he saw her biting her lip not to scream. “Aren’t you brave?” he taunted. “Shall I match the other side, then?”

Eyes shut, she nodded. He smiled as he backed up a little to grant better access to the task at hand. As he sat on her legs, his cock strained inside his trousers, pressing just between her thighs.

Dracula switched his grip on her wrists before continuing. With each spank her ass jiggled and grew redder, each a little harder than the one before until Y/N’s bravery waned to let small whimpers escape her lips. Pain should put her mind elsewhere and make her concentrate — or not. Either way, it was he who was enjoying this far more than she. When she finally relented and a throaty groan left her, he ceased his attack to caress the tender flesh.

Blood pumped where welts appeared and it left her skin burning hot to his touch. Pain had left only sweet aching in her. Her lips were swollen from biting them, her eyelids fluttered, and all of her body was fragrant with this new heat. Warmth raised from her, enveloping Dracula in a feverish daze that made his teeth sharper.

Control was never his strong suit. Redirecting his cravings was a simple matter, he reminded himself.

Y/N gasped as he suddenly ripped her underwear off. What remained of it was tossed aside as Dracula undid his belt and trousers, and barely pushing them away, he aligned his cock and entered her forcefully. So incredibly warm, and dripping wet. Beneath him, Y/N cried out a curse and moved her hips against his, an inviting roll for him to keep going. As he obliged and watched a delicate frown on her blushing face, he knew he must feel her body burn on his. Briefly stopping, he discarded his blazer and shirt. His fingers wrapped around the collar of her dress and ripped it down the middle. She helped him tug it completely off her to reveal arms covered with marks. Warmth raced along his chest when it came in contact with the glistening skin on her back. Lying atop her, he rocked against her to the rhythm of her heart. She panted to every thrust, barely making a sound with his weight pressing her down. Beneath him, she shuddered and sighed deeply as her lungs tried to accommodate the thrill of a nearing orgasm. Her body became even plumper with blood. Every nerve ending set alight, every vein dilating as if to feel pleasure in all cells of her body. A few more hard pushes, Dracula groaned low and finished, head swimming and lost as her heart beat madly on his eardrums.

“You–” she began hoarsely, “you’re done?” Her shoulders pushed against his chest, struggling to move. “Get off me right now,” she demanded. “I’m not done.” He rolled off her, and smiled as she threw a leg over him and accommodated her hips on his. “Where do I bite?” The question was followed by her cunt rubbing on his cock. He shuddered.

Dracula made himself sit down, against all his will to simply lie down and let her question him again and again. Her legs to either side of him squeezed. Grabbing her hand, he touched the tip of her fingers to his neck below his jawline and close to his ear.

“Here, always here. Shall I make it easier for you and cut?”

Her only answer was to lean closer and place her mouth where he showed her, and bite. Sharp teeth slid into him so easily that he gasped. Y/N moaned low in her chest as blood flooded her mouth.

All the while she drank, her hips continued to roll over him, seeking to have him inside again until finally she got what she wanted. As she drank greedily – desperately – her hand reached and held onto his face when her cunt began squeezing his cock, tighter and tighter. He pushed his hips up, going as deep as their position allowed, causing them to moan in unison.

Pleasure won the battle against her thirst and her head fell back as her body took over instinctively to continue fucking him. Her face was a half mask of blood that dripped down to her breasts. His tongue licked it clean as her legs started shaking and her rib cage rattled with breaths too small to contain the power of an orgasm.

The sight of her moving, breathless, bathed in his blood and the feel of her skin on his, wrapped around him, ignited his hunger once again. Dracula tried to push it aside but the ever growing pressure in his gums could only be bearable until a certain point, and he had never quite trained himself to sustain that bothersome pain. His solution was grabbing her legs and pushing her down to the bed, where he raised her hips off the mattress, and thrusted hard and fast. She gasped, and a breathy laugh left her mouth when he carried on.

_____________________________________________________________

Wiping his neck off blood stains with a damp towel, Dracula turned the faucets and left the bathtub to fill. His reflection drew his eyes to the adornment on his neck. Haphazard holes decorated it, as if framing the true pièce de résistance that was the small arch of Y/N’s teeth indented on his skin and the deep double punctures. Her mark on him, at last. It saddened him that it would only last a few more minutes.

Count Dracula’s smile was still stamped to his face when he returned to the bedroom.

Y/N, lying nude on the bed if not for the remains of her lingerie – garter belt and stockings and a half ruined bra –, had a finger in her mouth, poking her gums and rubbing her teeth as if expecting them to grow. He stopped by the bed, admiring her. Blotches of blood painted her cheeks in a way that made it seem that she had applied excessive amounts of makeup.

“They’re normal again,” she said, considering him briefly. “Where did they go? I mean– do I have new teeth growing somewhere?”

“I have a second set of teeth that I only use for special occasions.” She stared at him. “A joke.” She rolled her eyes but her lips curved a little. “You’ll learn to control it in the future, but yes, your teeth will grow when you need blood. They may come out on other occasions as well.”

“When I’m angry for instance?” She asked, rolling on her stomach and resting her chin on her hands. The sinuous shape of her back and round ass, bruised with the shape of his hand, drew his eyes.

“For instance,” he agreed. “Speaking of, are you still angry with me?”

“I haven’t decided yet. You did make a very compelling argument.”

“Hitting you and making you cum?”

“I’ll take it under consideration.” She chuckled. “But don’t hide things from me anymore.”

He threw himself on the bed next to her, and extended his arm as an invitation for her to cuddle up to him.

“You refused to see it yourself. Would you have accepted it as the truth if I brought to your attention what was happening?” He heard her take a breath, raising her head from his chest. “Rhetorical question. We’ll take a bath and never speak of it again.”

“Oh, we’ll speak of it again but not tonight. I’m feeling way too good to fight.” She squeezed her arms around him. “You have to return to the party, or people will think we came up here to fuck.”

“We did fuck.”

She blinked. It always surprised her when he cursed, he knew that.

“We don’t need to make it evident.”

“It’s my home. I can do what I want here.”

“Right. But I’m the one who has to work with those people, for at least one more month. It’s enough that they give me looks whenever you’re around but I can’t bear if I hear them whispering in the office that they could hear me scream from the floor below.” Dracula laughed. “I’m serious.”

“No one heard, Y/N.”

“I know. Get dressed and go downstairs. Tell people I’m recovering from a migraine, and wipe that devious grin from your face.” She started slipping away from him, and he locked his arm around her. “I need a bath.”

“Lie down for a minute.” Dracula shut his eyes. “At least let me enjoy this.”

At his side, he felt her body slowly relax. One of her legs hooked on his hip, her heel sliding down to find its place behind his knee where it so often rested. He inhaled deeply to fill his lungs with her, and found that something had changed in her scent. He couldn’t place it, but instinctively knew what it meant.

Grabbing her leg, he pulled her on top of him, slowly, as she quietly asked what he was doing. She asked again as he pushed her legs down, but understood that he simply wanted her to lie atop him when his arms wrapped around her. When he inhaled again, her body moved as if it was a ship rocking to a raging sea. The thought ignited memories of Agatha – his last great experiment – that had cost him one hundred years at the bottom of the sea.

Four hundred years searching for the right method. Four hundred years of mistakes, and a hundred years lost, had finally brought him what he always wanted.

“You aren’t usually this quiet,” she murmured, lips brushing his chest.

“I’m happy.”

“Oh.” Her heart skipped a beat. It surprised him, too. “Has it been a very long time since you felt that?”

“A very long time indeed.” One of his hands combed her hair. “Allow me to revel in it before I have to act the gentleman again.”

_____________________________________________________

My feet touched the floor quietly as I slipped from Dracula’s embrace. Careful not to juggle the bed and wake him, I made my way out of the bedroom, leaving Dracula alone with his dreams.

Wind howled and a window downstairs shook. Peering down the mezzanine to the lower floor, I saw the billowing curtains partially obscuring the open window. The source of the raucous that had woken me. A particularly strong wind shot the curtains up and aside, flashing light inside the room and making me squint to protect my eyes. Dirty glasses stained with amber and violet liquids decorated the surfaces all around the lofty, ample room. Crinkled napkins lay near almost all those glasses. Food crumbs decorated the floor as if it had snowed puff pastry. The long centre table was still pushed to the side as if the party would continue at some point.

As I hurried to close the window, shutting my eyes against the light and the hairs on my legs standing up from the cold, my brain pulled the memory of waking up half drunk, half hungover in my university years, in the middle of the night at someone’s house party to grab water. I had quite literally stumbled over Mallory, sleeping in the middle of the kitchen, and woken her with a kick to the thigh, while I fell on top of her date, who conveniently cushioned my fall. Our drunken, happy laughs made half the house grumble and shout at us to shut up.

Young and full of dumb decisions that we thought were actually brilliant. Our bellies hurt half the time we were together from all the laughs we had.

I couldn’t live without Mallory. I knew I would have to learn how, but until I was truly dead and gone, I refused to do so. We put our friendship aside because Mallory had given her career more importance once. To do the same to her after I had just gotten her back was not only unfair but also terrible.

One day to live, one week or one month – it didn’t matter. I would not pass onto another life without at least apologising, and saying goodbye.

My stomach grumbled at me as I snuck upstairs to retrieve my phone.

Dracula, my warlord, my centuries old vampire, death in a fancy blazer, lied in bed with his hair tousled, his sensuous lips that were so often curved in a devilish smile were now pressed to the pillow as he hugged it.

Grinning, perhaps stupidly or lovingly – quite hard to tell those apart, frankly –, I opened the camera on my phone and snapped a photo of him asleep. The edges around him appeared blurred, as if he had moved. I tried again. I must have taken 10 photos of him with no different results. Finally, I had to content myself with those, even if I could not capture his tranquil and boyish expression.

On impulse, I flipped the camera to my face and watched as my grin faded right before I snapped a photo of myself. Clear, sharp edges highlighted the glowy, almost dreamlike complexion I had acquired over the past few days. I looked ethereally beautiful, yet still human. Soon enough, I would not have photos of myself. At least not visible ones.

Worrying about that seemed like such a futile thing to do that I forced myself to put it out of my mind. For the time being, apologising to Mallory was more important than having another identity crisis. I was starting to lose count of those anyway.

Hi. Are you there?

To avoid pacing around the room while I waited for a text back, I went downstairs to the kitchen and busied myself with making tea.

Mug in hand, I went back to the living room and sat at the armchair half hidden beneath the stairs. I had chosen that little place as mine in Dracula’s home. In a living room so spacious and open, having a tiny secluded spot gave me a sense of security.

Still no reply.

Mal, I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to say that. It came out wrong.

My breath left me when my screen lit up with the three tiny dots that indicated she was typing. They disappeared a moment later. I stared, almost praying for her to continue.

I’m sorry about all the other days too. Can we talk?

A moment after I sent it, I considered it. I owed her some grovelling.

Please? I am really really sorry. There is a lot of stuff going on. I don’t know how to explain but I’ll try. Please talk to me.

The three dots appeared again.

Okay.

Eyes filled with tears, I typed back hurriedly.

V&A cafe tday? At 3?

A broken response but I was afraid she would delete her text back.

You’re paying.

When I laughed in relief, tears ran down my cheeks. I would pay for the entire menu and more if she demanded it of me.

________________________________________________________

The glowing orb fluctuating above me pulled my attention in. I imagined myself as a moth drawn to its light, throwing myself against it, beating my fragile body to be imbued in that warmth. My eyes stung and watered. I would have to blink in a few seconds. Narrowing my eyes so tears spilled over delicately, I focused all my thought into the dispersion of light and its centre. The moment I noticed the outline of the chandelier, the spell would be gone.

“Hi.”

Blink.

Tears poured to accumulate beneath my eyes, and once again I blinked to clear them away.

The round centre chandelier materialised above me. It was like the Victorians had stolen the moon to illuminate the café in honour of Her Majesty Queen Victoria. It was a mere fantasy – the three moons hovering between columns of gold leaves and golden arches were far too modern for the minds of Victorian architects and only added much later. I was a frequent patron to know that. The room was a palace inspired by the Renaissance. A restaurant so far removed from English reality it was easy to imagine I was in Italy.

The thought dispersed quickly as I took notice of Mallory sitting across from me.

She had no makeup on today aside from blush and a rosé lipstick. The blonde eyebrows and blonde eyelashes gave her an unnerving look paired with her huge eyes. I could never look at Mallory long when she stared like that. She always looked a little sad.

How long had she been sitting there before she said hi? I was almost sure I had seen her in my peripheral vision but had refused to acknowledge her.

“You’re being creepy,” she said.

Long enough to say that.

“Sorry,” I croaked, and cleared my throat. Unable to hold her gaze upon saying the fateful word I had come here to say, I looked down to fiddle with my sandwich. Chatter and the clinking of cutlery flooded my ears. “I just– got distracted, is all.”

Push it out. Focus.

I dropped my sandwich and hid my hands under the table as I dug my fingernails on my palms. Pain surged, and the maddening chatter echoing inside my head subsided. Perfect technique, I congratulated myself.

Before I left, Count Dracula had warned that my senses would be even more acute after drinking incalculable amounts of his blood, and that I should try and focus on only one. The chandeliers at V&A Museum Café had been my saving grace after discovering the noise and smells made me dizzy.

I adjusted myself on my seat, felt the stinging bruises on my buttcheeks, and bristled. Dracula had shown me, true to his sadistic side, that pain worked to bring me out of the blood haze, as I was beginning to call it. I was not about to walk around with a cat o’ nine tails to purge myself of those desires, so I had to make do with what I could, such as scratching my palms raw.

“You’re regretting coming here, aren’t you?” Mallory accused.

“I’m not.” Digging my nails deeper, I raised my eyes to hers. “I don’t know how to start,” I confessed, feeling my face get warm.

At that, Mallory leant back in her chair and her shoulders relaxed. She rubbed her brow, stared at my plate, and called for the waitress. I must have counted all of her eyelashes by the time the waitress was gone. Better than tearing my hands to the bone so that I could focus.

“I’ll start,” Mal declared after a while longer. “I’ll speak and you’ll listen. You won’t like it but I need to get it out.”

“Can I interrupt as you go?”

“No.”

“Do you mind if I eat while you talk?”

“By all means. You can’t interrupt me with a full mouth.”

I snorted and gestured for her to start as I took a bite from the sandwich. Dry and tasteless, as expected, although it was my favourite food from the menu.

Mallory inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and opened them again as she exhaled.

“Actually, I don’t know how to start either.” Her voice broke at the last word. “You can’t fault me for trying to protect you, Y/N. That’s all I’ve been trying to do.” I raised my eyebrows at that and she frowned. “I’m not asking you to agree with me. I don’t care if you do or don’t. But… I won’t do that anymore. I won’t try to protect you anymore because I realise you don’t want to be protected.” She stopped and leaned her elbows on the table. “You want to be with him, fine, be with him, but don’t isolate yourself. Don’t leave me out of it, please.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I just don’t get it. You changed, yeah, I know and accept that now, but yesterday– that hurt a lot.” Her voice broke as she spoke. My heart broke a little, too. “Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to cry. I wanted to be tough and give you a lecture about how terrible you’ve been and spill venom on you but I just don’t have the energy anymore, and frankly I don’t care about having the last word!”

“Mal, I am so so-”

“Shut up, I’m not done.” Closing her eyes, she amended, "Sorry, that was really rude.” Her gold rings flashed brightly at me when she covered her face with her hands. “I was trying to wave the white flag. Hell, I talked to Count Dracula for god’s sake, and you– you said… that.” Her lower lip trembled. “I felt so belittled, Maddy. So small and so insignificant to you. I had to leave the party so no one saw me burst into tears. I put in the effort to meet you halfway but it was useless. I just don’t know what I did to make you hate me to the point that you can’t stand the sight of me. I don’t.” Tears flowed down her face and she sobbed. Her shoulders shook with every breath as her small chest seemed to fold with the force of her sadness, making her hunch over as if she was humiliated all over again.

I watched, trying to detach myself from the scene by clawing my palms again, but her misery drew me deeply to her. It was salty and somehow still sweet, as if her tears were on the tip of my tongue for me to taste.

As I watched her, all I could focus on for a few moments was that, until I realised the proper response should be to empathise. Like I had flipped a switch, her sadness touched on my regret. I extended my hand to her and she took it. We held onto each other for a long time, until she nodded and looked at me again.

“You can talk now,” she said in a small voice.

“I don’t think saying sorry can fix how I made you feel,” I said. “But I can still say it, and I can promise you I’ll never do it again. These last couple of months have been a lot for me–” I closed my mouth. That was not how I was taught to apologise. None of it was an excuse. “What I did, how I treated you, that is not how anyone should treat their friends. You have no idea how happy I was when you offered me your glass yesterday. Honestly, it was enough for me to almost scream ‘yes’ at the top of my lungs but Hayes would’ve gotten the wrong idea.” A corner of her mouth turned up. “I need you to understand that I didn’t mean that. My mouth completely disconnected from my brain, which I’m sure you can empathise with.” The other corner of her mouth tilted up, too. Headed in the right direction. Perfect. “There was a lot going through my head last night-”

“Like being pressured into accepting a million-pounds-a-year offer?” Mallory asked, the smile that had started to grow was now gone.

“You have every right to be jealous-”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Mallory, come on.”

Her nostrils flared before letting go of my hands. She was opening her mouth, ready to lash at me, when the waitress came back with food, and Mallory’s politeness won against her anger.

“I am not jealous,” Mal said when the waitress left. “I’m not delusional like Evelyn. I know I can’t take that on yet, but I know you can. It’s not jealousy, Maddy. I’m angry that you’re throwing something so big away because of a man.”

When Mallory brushed her tears away, her knuckles left reddish marks on her cheeks with the brutality of her newly flared anger. The sickening taste of bitter oranges blossomed on the back of my throat. And so, I found out what anger smelled like. Hairs raised on my arms.

I need to get this over with. Mallory had said it right – I was being creepy.

“Have you spoken with Diana about Dracula?” I asked, gathering every last thread of patience I had in me. Mallory nodded. Bitter oranges and a dying fire, to be precise. I shut my eyes and tried to remember the night when Dracula counted my vertebrae. Unu, dui… “So I’m sure Di has told you that she would give up anything to have her husband back. She would’ve given up anything to not lose him in the first place. Do you see where I’m getting to?” Lips pressed to a thin line, Mal frowned but nodded again. “I know it may seem ridiculous to you, I’m not asking you to understand or support me, I’m just asking you to trust me that I know what I want, and I want him more than anything I’ve ever wanted. An entire lifetime couldn’t give me what he gives me.”

“And what is that?”

“Confidence. Passion. Grandiosity. Life itself. All endless.”

“Not love?”

“In his own way.”

Mallory had the decency to pull on her courtroom face, as I must have done hundreds of times when she told me something I thought was ridiculous. It struck me just then that I had had a similar conversation with Renfield when he was in the psychiatric ward, and I sounded exactly like him.

“The way you talk about him is so weird, Maddy, surely you see how it comes off? Like he’s– he’s… some kind of… entity. He’s something other, I think, I just know he is. I have dreams sometimes–” She straightened. I could almost see the cogs of her brain turning. Mallory’s lower lip trembled, neck growing stiff as if she had suffered an electric shock, her brows drew together in what I thought was terror. She was going to scream, I realised. Something must have triggered the buried memory of being forcibly bitten.

“Mal,” I called, but she didn’t seem to hear me. “Mallory, you’re okay.” I grabbed both her hands, accidentally knocking over my tea on my plate. “Look into my eyes. You are with me and you are okay.” Mallory’s pulse hammered on my thumbs when I dug my fingers on her wrist. It reverberated up my arm straight into my chest. I pressed a nail on her wrist, an attempt to make her focus, I told myself, but truly I wanted nothing more than skin breaking and giving way to life’s blood, freeing that terror and anger all through a tiny cut, and making it mine.

“I’m with you,” she said, complacent, eyebrows relaxing and eyes swimming in light.

Her heartbeat, pulsing against my thumb, sounded on my eardrums, vibrated down my jaw and, at last, synchronised my heart to hers. I inhaled deeply, and knew that I had Mallory within me.

“You are,” I echoed. She leaned forward in a way that she bumped her small chest on the table. Baby blonde hair fell from behind her ears to frame her face, brushing her clavicles, and drawing my gaze to the scar that had made me say that I couldn’t look at her. And yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, nor my hands. Whatever I had done, it had given Mallory peace. The taste of bitter oranges died with the fire of her anger. Her pliant mind within mine was cotton candy, sweet and just as easy to pull apart. “Isn’t that so much better?” I nodded, and she nodded back. A distant part of me recognised what I was doing, but I could not make myself stop. Control over her mind, so easily taken without my need to try, filled me with power and want, similar to sinking my baby teeth in Dracula. “Mal, you’ll forgive me, won’t you? You have to, you have to.” She tilted her head, as if she was thinking about it. But I had her, I knew I did, and I needed to be forgiven. “Have to, please, please, please, you have to.”

“I have to forgive you,” she repeated, nodding, her voice weak-willed.

“Yes, you do. I am so sorry. Forgive me for this too. I can’t stop.” My voice trembled. I needed to let her go. My hands didn’t respond to command, however. Her pulse still vibrated on my hands and my heart answered back. “You have to do it, Mal. I can’t let go, but I know you can. Slip between my fingers. Get up. Go home, and please forget about this.” Mallory blinked her pale eyelashes, her doe eyes shining at me. Deer at headlights, that’s what she was, and she had to run from me. “Look away,” I asked her. I did not have the power to do it myself, but I had it over her. She obeyed. Control slipped away as she slipped her hands from mine.

Mallory stood up so fast that her chair fell back. The sound cut through conversation and snapped inside my head like a bullet ricocheted inside it. A waiter materialised, asking if everything was okay, his gaze ping-ponging between a shocked Mallory, the table stained from the tea I had spilled, and myself, sitting there, fists closed to focus with the pain, and staring blankly at my friend.

“Get me the check, please,” I bit out. The waiter left.

Mallory shrugged her beige coat on and threw her tiny purse around her shoulder.

“You did something to me,” she said. I looked at her, almost pleading for her not to leave, not to be angry anymore, to forgive me. “I felt you in here. I don’t know how you did it, and I know it has to do with that psycho you love, but I know I will never forgive you.” She raised her chin, staring down at me, below her. “I hope that hurts you as much as you hurt me.”

She gave me one last withering look, and marched out of the café, leaving me with the rest of my sandwich, the bright moon above my head, and the bewildering realisation that I had just hypnotised my best friend and tried to force her forgiveness.

How long had I blinded myself to what I could do?

________________________________________________________

#she's back back back again (for 100th time) hello #distorted lullabies #dracula x reader #bbc dracula #dracula netflix #dracula daily #dracula fanfic #vampire fanfic #bbc dracula fanfic #claes bang #claes bang fanfic

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ewanfuckingmcgregor · 5 years ago

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Delicious (18+)

Summary: Dracula had always saved you for a special occasion, tonight is that night | (masterlist)

a/n: I started watching Dracula and I’m so inlove with him, I love bad boys, I don’t know if vampires can have sex but hey... its fanfiction, let me live. Also, sorry if this is bad, I tried my best with the limited time I had

When you first met Dracula, he drew you in. He was seductive, confident and intriguing. He always seemed to have some sort of hold on you. The night you met, you had danced for hours, he never grew tired. Dracula, although he hated to admit it, liked you. You were innocent and pure, and you looked delicious. He hadn’t tasted you yet, he wanted to save you for a special occasion, and tonight was that night.

“You’re always so beautiful [Y/N]” Dracula says, interrupting your thoughts, you look up from your book, you smile at him. He’s stood in the doorway, hand wrapped around a glass. He licks his bottom lip, placing the glass down on the table, walking towards you. You look down at your book again, trying to regain yourself. Dracula pauses for a moment, lifting his hand up to drag his fingers along your jawline, roughly cupping your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You look up at him, eyes wide, Dracula silently groans, leaning his head down to brush his lips on yours, you let out a soft whimper, he smirks. “I can hear your pulse pet, I know I excite you..’ His words make you tingle.

He pulls you up, he’s much taller than you, he breathes in slowly, taking in you scent, he softly groans. He leans down again, finally pressing his lips on yours. You taste blood, its metallic. He lets his hand drop to your waist digging his fingers in hard enough to leave bruises. He pulls your body flush against his, he wraps his arms tightly around you.

He walks you back towards your bed, hitting the bed causing you to fall back. He hovers over you, humming softly against your lips. He lets go of your waist, grabbing you wrists and pinning them above your head, he moves from your lips, pressing his lips along your jawline and down your neck, he drags his tongue along your pulse point, he groans softly. He so badly wants to dig in but he wants to save you.

You let out a soft whimper as he presses his lips along your collarbone, his fingers slide down, undoing your shirt and pushing it to the side to expose your breasts, he hums softly, pressing his lips down the valley of your chest, leaning his head over to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, causing you to whimper loudly. This causes him to growl against your flesh. He continues to work his way down your stomach, stopping at your hips. He licks his bottom lip, undoing your trousers pushing them down your legs. He drags his fingers along your pubic bone, hooking his finger and dragging your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side.

He grins, breathing in slowly, taking in your scent, he leans his head down coming face to face with your core. He looks up at you, your eyes meet his, your eyes are needy. He smirks, wrapping his hands around your thighs, he leans his head down, dragging his tongue from your entrance to your clit, causing you to whimper loudly. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking softly, he moves his hand up to push two digits into you; his nails are sharp but you don't feel them.

He continues to suck, slowly starting to pump his fingers in and out, you throw your head back, closing your eyes as you moan loudly, parting your lips as you let out a loud moan, cursing softly. He lets his eyes close, taking in your flavour, he continues to devour you. You feel your stomach start to tighten, you whimper loudly “Count… please don’t stop” He smirks, growling against your clit. You whimper again loudly, coming undone, cumming on his fingers.

He grins, pulling away, licking his lips clean. He pulls away from you, undressing himself, he’s thick. He smirks, leaning down to settle himself between your legs, he grabs the base of his cock, lining himself up at your entrance, in one swift movement he pushes himself fully into you, you moan loudly arching your back, cursing loudly. He lets you adjust for a moment, before bottoming out and pushing himself back into you. You whimper loudly, licking your bottom lip and biting it hard. He slides his hand up to grip the base of your neck squeezing as he starts to thrust hard.

He growls, letting his eyes close as he thrusts harder and harder. He doesn’t hold back. He breathes in slowly, letting go of your neck, burying his head into it, dragging his tongue along your pulse point again, he parts his lips, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin slightly as he continues to thrust harder and harder, you groan softly wrapping your arms around his shoulders, digging your fingers into his back.

He lets out a groan as he twitches, he’s close. He pulls away, wrapping his hand around your neck again, you open your eyes looking into his, he smirks at you. You look so good and you feel even better. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer so he is as deep in you as he can be. He growls, biting down on his lip as he twitch, arching his back, cumming inside of you. You whimper loudly, letting your eyes close as you feel him fill you up. He waits for a moment, raising his hand to grip your chin, you open your eyes. His eyes are red, you whimper loudly, as he pushes your head to the side exposing your neck, he smirks, throwing his head down and digging his teeth into your neck.

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jeonggukieandcream · 4 years ago

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Headcanons for Dracula with a reader who loves to visit museums or art galleries?

Ooooh I love the idea of this! Drac’s mind must be such a fascinating thing to dive into. I loved writing this, thank you for requesting, darling!💙

Requests are open :)

Word count: 730.

You were always alone, but you seemed to prefer it that way.

Indeed, this was what first caught Dracula’s attention about you and he decided to see if this piece of fruit was one which he could ripen.

Sweetness brings the promise of corruption, he had once told someone long since dead and buried.

Dracula was doing his usual night time patrol of the city to see if he could find someone worth eating. He still was so careful with what he put into his body. You are what you eat, as he had been telling everyone for centuries.

As he came towards the main road, he saw you coming out of a museum.

Unlike many others who were coming out. you were alone and you had the loveliest look on your face.

It spoke of serenity and of... belonging.

Evidently, you very much enjoyed visiting museums.

With a quick glance at the name of the museum, Dracula stuck to the shadows at the edge of buildings as he followed you home.

He knew not at that stage if you were the perfect fruit, if you would make for a successful bride, but he knew that you were, at least, ripe, and time would reveal all else.

Months flew by and seasons past. It all seemed so mundane to Dracula, a being with all the time in the world and hours to kill without a thought, and it ended up that the two of you had become close friends.

All that learning, all that thirst for knowledge, all that respect and care which you paid towards old relics and preserved artworks...

... Dracula found you to be exquisite.

You often frequented museums and art galleries, though Dracula very quickly learned which ones were your favourites and why.

He often took you out to them when he needed to think, when he needed to be quiet and to survey the city’s population for food options.

He had grown to like the finer side of fast food. Spending time with you was the bonus to all of his hard work.

Dracula often watched you as you slowly walked around, your shoes making quiet noises. It was as if you were afraid to make too much noise as you moved throughout, scared were you of disturbing the peace.

With your arm looped through his elbow and your fingers gripping his upper arm, Dracula found it only too easy to bend down to whisper facts and to correct anything which was wrong on the signposts.

“I guess you could say he... lost his head in conflict.”

“You know what they say... April showers bring may flowers... and mayflowers bring smallpox.”

“Drac, that’s awful,” You tried to speak through your giggles but Dracula’s own laughter made your own increase and you both got shushed by the museum staff.

But what did you care?

Dracula had seen so much, he had done so much, and there were many things within the museum which he had encountered centuries or years previously during his own travels.

When it came to you visiting art galleries, there were many displays which Dracula had seen while the works were in progress, and he had even eaten a few artists.

“Van Gogh had a special flavour but there was a shadow on his heart. I did spare him, but... it didn’t really make much of a difference.”

You had been saddened by Dracula’s implications but then he had pointed out something else on another piece by way of distraction.

Sometimes he forgot how sensitive mortals could be...

For every piece of information Dracula fed you, you were only more enraptured by all which was before you. Centuries of knowledge, of cultural exchange and appreciation, all accumulated under one roof... It was heavenly to you.

Dracula’s own heaven came in the look of wonder on your face, on the way you clutched at him, those peals of laughter when he said something (you had always found him hilarious, even when he wasn’t trying to be funny) or the way you would press a chaste kiss to his cheek occasionally.

Unbeknown to you, Dracula had decided that in his very long existence, you were the most beautiful piece of art he had ever known and would ever know.

You weren’t just the perfect fruit to the vampire, you were his best and final bride.

#bbc dracula #bbc dracula x reader #bbc dracula imagine #dracula #dracula x reader #dracula imagine #dracula 2020 imagine #dracula 2020 x reader #dracula headcanon #dracula 2020 headcanon #bbc dracula headcanon #claes bang #claes bang x reader

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my-fanfic-library · 3 years ago

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Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [35]

Masterlist

~^*^~

Anger nibbled at the pit of your stomach. The alarm clock on the bedside table flashed, letting you know that it was close to 2am in the morning. You felt drowsy, you were tired, but you were alone in Dracula’s bed and could hear the footsteps above you. He was up there, in his storage cupboard. He had been secretly going up in the dead of the night, long after you had fallen asleep, just so that you wouldn’t see him up there and could instead forget all about it. What he hadn’t counted on was you not actually falling asleep, and listening to him potter around, pushing heavy things along the floor. Whatever was up there, he wanted it kept secret only to him, and you didn’t like that one bit.

You could hear the wind howling outside, but your ears chose to concentrate on the sounds of Dracula’s footsteps over your head. Every now and then, you could swear you heard multiple sets of feet, and sometimes, Dracula would speak. It had been 45 minutes since he had gone up, and your eyelids were feeling like bricks cellotaped to your face. Like a siren, sleep called out to you through the fog of your stubborn anger, and your eyelids begun to close on their own accord.

BANG!

The sound jolted you. Your eyes flared up to the ceiling, where you could hear Dracula cursing and the sound of... scratching...?

Okay, you were going to find out just what Dracula was hiding in that room.

~^*^~

“I don’t understand why we can’t track him down...” Jack grumbled, looking down at the hundreds of papers spread out before him.

“Me neither... do you think [First] was right...?” Dracula looked up from his paper, the glasses on his face slipping down his nose a little with the movement.

“What about?”

“That this is all my fault.” Dracula sighed, “if I hadn’t turned Renfield, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Yeah... well, I guess she kind of is right, toothy.”

“Toothy?” Dracula quirked an eyebrow.

“What so [First] can give you a nickname, but I, your good-cop-bad-cop partner can’t?”

“The difference,” Dracula begun, leaning forwards, “between you and [First] giving me a nickname, is that I much rather hear her screaming my full name instead of just using it in everyday conversation-“

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

Jack looked back down at his papers, sighing in frustration. He didn’t know where to start, where to begin, there was something else plaguing his mind. He didn’t know how he was supposed to look for any signs of Renfield’s whereabouts, when his mind was preoccupied. You were not safe, he needed to focus, he needed to keep you safe. His eyes shot up, locking with Dracula’s who was cocking his head in thought.

God, he would love to steal you away, take you back up north, maybe even farther away than Yorkshire. He hated that your only chance of survival was with Dracula.

As Jack sat thinking, his mind setting off on a train of thoughts unrelated to Renfield, he failed to notice Dracula taking in their surroundings. The cafe they had taken refuge in was small, with a couple of waitresses walking around serving the many tables that were full. As one approached their table, Dracula noticed that Jack’s backpack was poking out from under the table - a true health and safety hazard, so he reached down and plucked it up, finding it heavier than it should be.

“Mr Seward, care to indulge me on just what exactly you’ve brought with you to our meeting?” Jack’s head snapped up, looking at the vampire with a sheepish frown.

~^*^~

“Jack, I really don’t want to smell like a teenage boy.” You pout, folding your arms.

Already, Jack had coerced you into his clothes, which fit you oddly. The sleeves on the navy hoodie that had been thrown at you were way too long, and the jeans that you had been forced into were just as long, pooling at your ankles, fitting your feminine waist oddly, too. You had also somehow let Dracula slap a baseball cap over your hair to conceal it, and now Jack was standing with two cans of deodorant, one in each hand, spraying them over you like you were a prepubescent teenager coming out of gym class.

This is what Jack had brought with him to his meeting with Dracula. It was essentials to sneaking you out for an hour or two to feel human again.

“I miss her sweet smell already.” Dracula frowned, clearly not impressed by Jack’s scent (and the Lynx Africa) smothering over your own. He was sitting on his chair, on the opposite end of the room, watching with his arms folded.

“Good, that means it’s working.” Jack coughed through the mist of the spray.

“Where are we even going, Jack?” You inquired, trying to turn your head over your shoulder to reach clean air.

“Out, you haven’t left this penthouse in over a month, I thought you’d like to maybe get some fresh air and interact with other humans beside myself.” Jack finally stopped spraying the cans, and you heaved as the air around you clears. God, you really do smell like a teenage boy. Gross.

Somehow, you’re convinced by the thought of actually being able to walk somewhere that isn’t around Dracula’s dining table. Jack decided to wait for you outside, so that Dracula can decide if he really can’t detect your scent or not. When the door snapped shut, Dracula beckoned you over and you were quick to comply. Once you were within arms reach, Dracula caressed your waist, looking up at your face. He couldn’t smell you at all, but he could feel your entire body pulsating under his touch, his favourite thing. He could hear your blood coursing your veins.

You looked down at him, biting your lip, expecting Dracula to not let you leave. However, you were surprised as he gave you a soft smile and a gentle nod. You knew he wasn’t exactly thrilled that you were leaving, but Jack had explained cabin fever and he had read The Shining and he didn’t want you flipping out on him. Could you imagine being kept indoors for months at a time, not allowed to interact with anyone other than the person you reside with? Dracula certainly couldn’t.

At Dracula’s silent permission, you returned his soft smile and left, feeling your heart hammering in your chest. You were scared. You knew you were vulnerable, but if Dracula trusted you would be safe, you had to believe him. Dracula could hear the way your blood began to rush, the way the anxiety heightened the flow, and almost reached out to pull you back.

On the streets, people turned to give you strange looks, and you found yourself on more than one occasion nuzzling into the crook of Jack’s neck as you walk. The fresh air felt so nice to breathe. It was different to Dracula opening the windows every morning to let the cool, wintery air in. It was all around you, enveloping you in it’s cool embrace. You felt free.

It was busy, with people moving around you everywhere. Usually, you would have complained, but the Christmas lights were out in full effect and seemed to drug you into a state of euphoria.

“Hey, [First], wanna grab something to eat?” Jack turned to you, giving you a half-smile. You only nodded, turning your head to look at everything the outside had to offer. You didn’t know when you’d be allowed out again.

Jack, on the other hand, was nervous. He thought back to that day in Dracula’s penthouse.

~^*^~

Since Dracula had swept you away to Italy, Jack had been dedicated the position of house-checker. All he had to do was visit the vampire’s penthouse a couple of times in the week to ensure that Renfield hadn’t been snooping around. It was a simple enough task. He never went at the same time, or the same day of the week, he would just pop over at any chance he got. He didn’t want to fall into a pattern in case he was being watched.

One his last visit to the penthouse, though, he had discovered something that had made him rethink his entire decision to let you come back to London after Dracula’s reappearance.

As usual, he pushed open the door and stepped inside of the pristine home. The floors were glistening, beautiful daylight bursting through the tall window at the opposite end of the room. Everything was untouched, and Jack did his sweep of the living room, the bedroom and the bathroom. He was happy with the state of things and took a moment to breathe, looking out of the window down onto busy London. And that is where he heard it.

...thud...

..thud...

thud...

thud....

The sound was so odd, that Jack felt a very unpleasant chill shockwave down his spine. Whatever was going on here was not normal. His eyes followed the sound, landing on a sleek black door upstairs in the penthouse. From the glass balcony overlooking the living room, he could see the door hiding behind the shadows of some large house plants. Dracula had hidden that door for a reason.

Slowly, Jack ascended the stairs, listening carefully for another sound. Nothing.

His feet were slow and precise. He was glad this build was relatively new, no squeaky floorboard to give him away. Then again, if it were another undead specimen, it could probably smell his blood from a mile away. Jack sucked in a breath as he closed in on the door, holding his chest firmly where it was, and pressing his ear against the door.

Silence.

Total silence.

Jack exhaled, closing his eyes.

Then, he opened them reaching down to twist the door handle. Surprisingly, it opened. The room was dark, and much bigger than what Dracula had apparently described as a storage cupboard. Lining the walls were dozens of large wooden boxes. Every single box seemed to be nailed shut in all sorts of odd places, and all of them seemed to have one small hole, to look in... or out. There were also two boxes in the centre of the room, on the floor stacked on top of each other. These ones looked a little newer than the others, and placed nearly on top was a leather journal.

The only light coming in to the room was from the open door, and Jack did not know if he wanted to investigate further. But he knew that this was sketchy to say the least - even for a vampire. He needed to figure out what was going on here. As Jack neared the boxes in the centre of the room, he heard the scratching sound once more, this time, right behind him, right where the boxes were lined up against the wall.

“...it’s just a mouse...” he lied to himself.

He reached forwards, ready to pick up the journal and try to have a flip through of the pages.

BAM!

The box on top suddenly shook with the force of... whatever was inside. Jack leapt backwards, pushing his entire body away from the wooden structure, just enough so that when it fell to the floor and splintered open, he could turn on his heel, and retreat as quickly as he could. He slammed the door shut, holding his entire body against it. There were no sounds from inside of the room.

It wasn’t often that Jack would cry, but he was terrified in this moment. He knew you weren’t safe here. He knew Dracula was up to something. Hot tears streamed dow his face, under his chin and down his neck to soak the neckline of his t-shirt. He bit his lip, trying to stop himself from making a sound. God, he was so scared.

He gave himself a moment to gain composure, knowing that he needed to leave. He couldn’t stay here. It wasn’t safe.

He found a way to secure the door, before leaving the penthouse with absolutely no intention of ever coming back. Luckily for him, he got a lead on Renfield just two days later, and called Dracula home immediately.

~*^*~

You sat opposite Jack, munching happily on your food. Jack looked gaunt. You wondered if playing detective was deterring him from sleeping and eating, so you gently reached over the table, pushing his plate further towards him. Jack offered you a smile before finally starting to eat a little. But in all honesty, hunger evaded him.

“Please don’t go back to the penthouse, [First].” Jack found himself saying the words before he could censor himself. You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. It seemed like Jack was flip flopping with where he thought you were safe.

“What?”

“Please... just... listen to me,” Jack sighed, placing his fork down so that he could fully concentrate on you, “Dracula is a vampire, and no matter how much you trust him... he’s still a vampire. I don’t know if either of you realise it, because you’re so in love or whatever, but I don’t know how much longer Dracula can contain himself around you... maybe he’s a bigger threat than Renfield is and none of us even realise it...”

The words shocked both yourself and Jack as you stared at each other after his little monologue. Dracula had proven to you not once but twice that he could control himself around you when you were bleeding, he refused to turn you into a vampire to stop Renfield because he so desperately wanted you to live a normal life, he had done everything in his power to keep you safe and happy and you thought that Jack acknowledged this at least!

Jack, on the other hand, was close to trembling. Did he have any idea what Dracula was storing within the confines of his home? Not exactly. But reading the accounts from Jonathan Harker from his visit to Transylvania seemed to leave little to the imagination. Jack had already begun to connect the dots and he couldn’t understand why you didn’t. You were miles smarter than he was!

“Are you kidding me right now, Jack?” You hissed through gritted teeth. Your cheeks flared up with the anger suddenly bubbling in your stomach. Now, neither of you were hungry, “is this why you’ve brought me out? To kidnap me?!” At your outburst, a few other diners looked in your direction.

“Lower your voice,” Jack warned, “just think about it rationally, [First], please.”

“I’m not doing this right now. I’m not fucking doing this. All I want- all I’ve wanted since Daniel fucking cheated on me all those years ago is a normal, stress-free life with somebody that loves me. And sURE, being with a vampire of all things maybe isn’t ethical, maybe it isn’t even legal, fuck knows. But what I do know, Jack Seward, is that Dracula cares about me. He wouldn’t lay a finger on me unless he absolutely has to and he has already proven that to me time and time again! So, there’s my rational thinking!” At some point, you had risen to stand, glowering down at Jack who shrunk into his seat. He should have known you’d be tetchy. You had been enclosed in that god forsaken penthouse for way too long. He wished he had told you straight away, but now that he knew Dracula was hiding something, he could not leave it. Being in such close proximity to Dracula could have been putting you at risk.

Jack could only blink at you, watching you storm out. Fuck. He didn’t know if you would go back to the penthouse immediately if you were so pissed off. You needed to cool down, so he ended up having to call Dracula and letting him know you had slipped through his fingers. Of course, Dracula had a beautifully coloured vocabulary ready to be weaponised for this very moment, for Jack, before hanging up.

All Jack could do was let his face fall into his open hands and scream into them. If they didn’t find Renfield soon, he was going to find you.

~^*^~

“Drac?” You called out into the darkness of the penthouse.

Surprisingly, you received no answer. Dracula wouldn’t have left, would he?

Recently, he only left to... eat... when Jack would promise to come and (for lack of a better word) babysit you. You would have liked to believe that Dracula would not have left the penthouse unattended given Renfield’s talent for appearing practically out of nowhere. But he wasn’t here. That was apparent as you checked all of the rooms downstairs, calling his name and simply not finding him. He would not have taken to his soil, he didn’t need to, he wasn’t injured, he wasn’t in need to a break - well you didn’t think he was.

As you closed the door to the bathroom, turning to face the elongated dining table, you heard it.

A soft scratching, a gentle thud, both in harmony. Was somebody upstairs?

For a moment, you thought it was Renfield; for a moment, you were struck with fear, expecting him to appear and have his way with you, but as the sound continued, it soon became very apparent that it could not have been the lawyer. It was coming from that storage room.

And if you truly were alone in this moment, you were finally going to find out just what Dracula was hiding from you.

~^taglist^~

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#something different #dracula #bbc dracula #bbc dracula x reader #claes bang #claes bang x reader #claes bang x you #dracula fanfiction #Dracula x reader #Dracula x you #Netflix Dracula

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bang-and-a-blintz · 5 years ago

Text

Caught in the Web

This one is for our wonderful @hiphop-gir! I sort of got a little carried away with this lol I’m sorry, it’s just that when I think of this delicious blonde serial killer version of Claes - my mind can’t help but to automatically lean towards more...twisted things. 😇

An interrogation goes...wrong in all the right ways?

Cheers!

Fandom: The Girl in the Spider’s Web

Relationship: Jan Holster//Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warning: Um very smutty and sort of dark. Some kidnapping, a bit of choking, and light threatening.

Word Count: 2,651

~Caught in the Web~

A loud bang made you jump as the door burst open, bouncing off of the wall behind it. You couldn't see anything through the darkness of the sack covering your head, but you knew you were no longer alone in the musty room that your captors had placed you in.

Your wrists burned from the zip ties wrapped tightly around them and your shoulders were beginning to ache due to the awkward angle of having your hands tied behind your back.

"Well, what do we have here?" A cold, deep voice cut across the room like a knife. You could hear the thumping of footfalls coming closer. "Relieve our…guest of those restraints."

Someone dashed over and you were temporarily blinded from the sudden brightness as the hood was ripped from your face. While you blinked, trying to quickly focus on your surroundings, the same person made work of the ties around your wrists and cut them free.

When your eyes finally adjusted and you rubbed the circulation back into your limbs, the first thing you saw made your throat go dry.

It was him.

The spider who takes those unfortunate enough to fall into his trap and then makes them disappear.

Jan Holster.

You had only heard stories about the terrifying assassin that stood in front of you. Whispers in the wind of a man turned death machine for the Soviet's special ops before going rogue. Not many lived to tell the tales...but you had certainly heard stories, so it wasn't an entirely impossible feat.

Only no one spoke of how damnably attractive he was and you weren't sure how you felt about that.

"Leave us."

The man who cut you loose quickly scurried away.

What remained was a nearly unbearable silence. You cautiously looked up to see the infamous killer staring at you with furious intent.

Jan was statuesque. His towering form seemed to take up the entirety of the cramped, dilapidated room. He was shrouded in a pitch-black long leather coat and endless dark layers of clothing. Protection from the bitter sting of the arctic temperatures. The shock of blond hair and icy blue eyes were stark in contrast.

What really caught your attention was how his face was littered with several scrapes and bruises, as though he had just gotten out of a fight. You had the sneaking suspicion that he had won.

He looked scary as hell, intimidating, rugged, and downright feral. By all accounts, you should be very afraid, but the blasphemous heat pooling in the pit of your stomach spoke otherwise.

The severity of his stare pinned you in your seat. He placed his gloved hands flat on the table and leaned down, slowly and deliberately licking his lips.

The predator eyeing his prey.

"Tell me," His voice was guttural, "Why were you running, kroshka?"

You swallowed thickly and shook your head, "I wasn't running, I swear I don't kno-"

"Shh," He cut you off, holding a finger up in warning, "No, no, no, ptichka. Do not lie to me. You saw their faces and you know where they are."

His words were clipped, barely concealing his frustration. The use of those sweet little pet names was like poison dripping from his mouth.

"I told you, I - I don't know."

"TELL ME THE FUCKING TRUTH!" Jan roared, his hands grasping the withering chair before him and threw it with all his might against the opposite wall. You flinched as it broke upon impact, scattering pieces of splintered wood across the floor.

"Please, I swear! I don't know anything!" Holding your hands up, you tried to plea with him to see reason, that you really were innocent in this whole ordeal. You were just someone who was at the wrong place and at the very wrong time. "Look, when that apartment exploded, those people disappeared before I knew what was even happening. There was so much smoke and the fire was taking over the entire building, it was all I could do to run before it took me too! Then your asshole goon squad threw me into the back of their van and brought me here. I don't know what the hell happened!"

He walked around the table slowly, coming to a stop directly behind you.

"Forgive me,” He sighed, “My temper sometimes gets carried away."

Finger by finger, he pulled off his leather gloves with precision and dropped them on the table in front of you. Then his cold hands were resting on your shoulders, though they were surprisingly gentle as he held you still.

His breath was suddenly against your ear and you fought to control your racing heart. It felt like it was going to jump right out of your chest and it nearly stopped when those large hands gave you a sharp squeeze.

A warning.

"I do not enjoy being lied to." He tutted as you tried to speak, "It makes me feel as if I am being treated like a fool. Do you think that I am a fool, kroshka?"

"N-no."

"I could not hear you."

Those freezing hands gripped you tightly now, the contrast of his cold fingers against your burning skin was regretfully delicious. You chided yourself for being so affected by this man.

"No!" You ground out with a hiss, squirming in the seat and pressing your thighs together. A weak attempt to alleviate the sudden ache you felt.

"Good." He hummed, tapping his digits slightly against your collarbone.

Before you knew what was happening, Jan pulled you out of the chair and slammed you against the wall. The moment your back connected with the plaster, one of his hands wrapped around your throat to hold you still while his handsome face loomed over you with a dark expression.

You had never been so turned on in your life.

The taste of danger made you insatiable; your morality and finite self-concern were now long gone.

"Let's try this again, hm?"

"Please, I -" You weakly tried to bite back a moan as he tightened his hold on your neck. To your embarrassment, Jan heard it.

He froze, blue eyes widening for a moment before sliding down to observe this new position. Almost as if he wasn't aware that he was the one who put the two of you there in the first place.

Your bodies were flush, his broad chest was completely encompassing as he pinned you to the wall. You couldn’t help but to arch towards him, thrumming with anticipation.

Now he was curious.

Testing the uncertain waters, Jan tensed his fingers again and you knew he could feel your pulse beating erratically beneath his hand. You sucked in a breath and shut your eyes firmly, trying so very hard to fight the blush rising on your cheeks.

When you finally opened them again, you were almost frightened to see his reaction, but to your surprise, his brows just rose. A small, devious smirk quirked his lips.

"Ah, I see." His voice dropped an octave and you felt goosebumps rise along your flesh. With a quick movement, he slid his own leg between yours and pressed it hard against your center. "You like this?"

The delicious tease of friction made you bite down on your lip, but you refused to respond.

"Answer me." He bounced his leg and you felt shocks shoot up your spine. The hand around your neck gave another squeeze, forcing you to meet his gaze.

His pupils were blown wide with lust and you could do nothing but groan, breaking down and grinding your hips slowly along his thick thigh.

Desperate for anything he could give.

"Yes," You gasped, finding courage in the way his eyes fluttered shut when your knee lightly brushed against his crotch, "And it seems that you do too, Spider."

Growling, he snapped his eyes open and sent you a look of warning. He then pushed you harder into the wall, halting your movements entirely. "Where did they go?"

Was he still on about that? You fought an eye roll.

"I. Don't. Know." You hissed, snatching a fistful of his shirt and dragging him closer till you were just a breath apart. "And, to be honest, I don't fucking care."

His jaw ticked, but you stared at him defiantly, not backing down in the slightest. He didn't move. He didn't say a word. Jan just studied your face silently, searching.

Releasing his shirt, you brought your hand down, keeping your eyes locked on his, and gripped him through his pants. He was thick and big and undeniably hard.

"Is this really what you want?" Jan said, rather gruffly. His jaw clenched tightly as he fought control.

This time you actually did roll your eyes. "Are you done interrogating me?"

You gave his cock another squeeze and he bucked, lips suddenly crashing onto yours to steal a searing kiss. It was a rough, demanding, teeth-gnashing, biting mess and when he pulled back you were completely breathless and absolutely wrecked.

It took a moment to understand why he stopped, as you tried to chase his venomous lips but he kept pulling back, just out of your reach. When you looked up in irritation at the deadly man, you realized what he was truly waiting for. Your consent.

"You want this?" Jan asked lowly, his chest heaved with his ragged breath and his bright eyes were wild.

A man never looked more edible.

"Yes, I do. I want you to fuck me. Right now." You spoke, gazing up at him through hooded eyes, barely comprehending the unadulterated sultry tone of your own voice, "Now shut the fuck up and get to it, kozyol."

He needed no more convincing as he swung into action, latching onto your lips again and tugging you back over to the table. You jumped up to sit on it while he maneuvered himself in between your legs, not for a second breaking the consuming kiss.

The man was everywhere, his hands grabbing and pawing with a desperate vigor, his mouth was wet and sloppy and delectable; you took everything you could get. The tension that dominated his body gave you the hint that this sort of release was long overdue. You were happy to help with this investigation in any way you could.

With a rough tug, you ripped out his belt and made quick work of unbuttoning his pants. He was heavy, hot, and positively swollen underneath your palm. The pad of your thumb swiped the precum pooling from the tip and he groaned deeply, snapping his hips into nothing, desperate for some sort of friction.

The next thing you knew, one of his cold hands were down your pants, and without warning, two of his impossibly large fingers slipped inside you.

"Holy fuck!" You gasped, breaking away from his lips to suck in a deep breath. A third quickly followed, opening you up even further. You moaned loudly, body pliant to his attentions as he curled up against that spot that made you see stars.

Then they were gone just as quickly, but before you could whine in protest, he lifted you up further onto the table and ripped your pants off entirely. You could hardly take another shuddering breath as the cold air hit your bare cunt before he was back on you and teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, gently sliding back and forth along your slick folds.

He paused, looking you dead in the eyes while his free hand came up to stroke the line of where your neck met your shoulder. Shooting you a villainous smirk, Jan yanked down the collar of your shirt, bit down hard on the sensitive flesh of your neck, and sank into your warmth. Your body curved up into his embrace and you cried out, the shock of both primal pleasure and scorching pain sent your nerves into overdrive.

Immediately, Jan set a bruising pace, the brutal intrusion was exactly what you wanted, what you fucking craved. You matched his thrusts and gripped his jacket, just to hold on to something, anything to keep you upright.

It was viceral. It was vicious. It was deliciously punishing as you both fucked each other as if your very lives depended on it.

He replaced his teeth with his hand once more and squeezed down on your windpipe, his mouth edging over until he was panting into the shell of your ear, "This is what you needed, hm? You needed a good fuck."

Changing the angle, he delivered a sharp thrust that stole your voice.

"You wanted someone to take control, to use your body, to possess your very soul." He growled lowly, "Glaza boyatsya, a ruki, hm? You fear it and that drives you fucking wild."

You moaned loudly, too far gone to care about his biting words. With every pleasurable sting, you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to the precipice. The pit deep in your gut burned and boiled and was surely going to explode if he kept up with that filthy mouth of his.

“Yes, that’s it.” Jan grunted, a bead of perspiration trailed down his face from his efforts, “You desire someone who would wreck you from the inside out and make you beg for more."

"Fuck, yes, bistreye! Faster, please, I - oh, fuck!"

The man's hips were like pistons; relentlessly slamming into you, filling you to the brim before pulling back out just to bury himself inside again, deeper and deeper. You nails tore at his shirt as you shattered around him, coming almost violently and nearly choking yourself as you writhed against his hand.

He let go of your throat and stole what little breath you still had away with his lips, blocking your cries and moans from traveling too far outside the small room. Your body was wracked with trembles as you rode your high, letting wave after wave of sinful delight roll over you.

The Spider doubled his efforts, his hips stuttering in a punishing rhythm and his hands were gripping your flesh so hard, you were certain there would be an endless amount bruises waiting for you later.

With a roar, he came, chomping back down on the sensitive and abused spot of your neck, gripping you tightly against his shaking body. He pumped once, twice more before exhaling a deep breath and falling to his elbows around you.

The tension seeped from your bones as you collapsed back onto the table. Blissfully sated. Nothing but the sounds of your gasping breaths filled the room as the both of you struggled to maintain normal oxygen levels.

That might have been the best sex of your life.

It was worth it to come undone beneath the brutality of this devilish man, despite the lingering fear of your own impermanence. You supposed the thrill of temporality was a wonderful aphrodisiac.

Suddenly his lips were on yours. This time the kiss was soft, gentle, deep, and full of strangely unfamiliar feelings. Jan delicately plied your lips open, his velvet tongue circled yours, and he groaned as you lapped back cautiously. The hand that threatened to squeeze the life from you was now stroking a calming pattern against the swell of your cheek.

He pulled away after a moment, tucking himself back into his pants and slicking any errant blond hairs back in their place.

Once satisfied, he looked at you with a cunning little smirk. "This information will suffice. Thank you for your…assistance."

Before you could even blink, he was gone.

The door slammed shut behind him and you sat there, stunned. Rather than rushing to dress and flee back to your home, which would be the logical course of action; all you truly wanted now was more time caught up in the Spider's web.

Welp there it is! Inspired by that sexy scene where he’s all bloodied up and looks tasty. Someone stop me.

*my attempt at writing with the Russian language - if I got anything wrong, I apologize*

kroshka - little one

ptichka - little bird

kozyol - bastard

Glaza boyatsya, a ruki - The eyes are afraid, but the body still commands. (You feel the fear, but do it anyways)(Russian proverb)

bistreye - faster

Tagging:

@vissidarte213 @hyacinth-meadow @gabesprincess @festering-queen @thebeautyofdisorder @hoefordarkness @allis143 @torntaltos @guardianbelle @greenisms @cam-bang @feralstare @profiler-in-courage @enchantedfleur

(just in case anyone else was interested - feel free to message me if you’d like to be removed or added)

#request #claes bang x reader #jan holster x reader #the girl in the spider's web #jan holster #n/sfw #idk how to tag anymore honestly #they end up having a great time during an interrogation??#sure why tf not #claes bang thirst squad

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