#Dracula you don’t look so happy

[saffitaffi]

He angy (part 1)

[hotvintagepoll]

Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing (The Curse of Frankenstein, The Horror of Dracula)—Obviously never canon romantic but the definition of toxic old man yaoi. Whether it's the look on Lee's face as Dracula about to bite Van Helsing in "Horror Of Dracula" (1958) or Cushing destroying his life and engagement to create Lee's monster in "Curse Of Frankenstein" (1957). Such a popular team that the "Dracula" sequel lifted their final fight from the original and used it as a prologue even though Cushing isn't in the rest of the film.

Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire (Top Hat, Swing Time, The Gay Divorcée)—When they danced, they made their character's thoughts visible, letting us in on their intimacy. A quote from a 1995 NYTimes article: "A kind of spontaneous combustion took place when they danced together; they enhanced each other, as all good couples do. Other actresses cast opposite Astaire were invariably drawn into his orbit, overwhelmed by his charm. Only Rogers held her ground."

This is round 3 of a mini tournament. Each poll lasts for three days. If you'd like to send additional propaganda supporting your favorite hot couple, you can reblog this post with your propaganda added, send it to my asks, or tag me in it. To vote in all the polls, click here. Happy holidays!

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee:

Not exactly propaganda but I received this ask after Cushing and Lee's submission:

oh, I completely missed the qualifiers for the couples poll! Nevemind. Unless we count characters attempting to murder one another in multiple movies as peak couple behavior, Cushing and Lee tragically don’t qualify.

Editor's note: in this case I'll absolutely count that as romantic.

Rogers and Astaire:

Oh my gosh, just watching them dance together. They can move around the floor like two parts of a whole, making incredibly difficult moves look effortlessly smooth. Or they can tap side by side, clearly equals, but with their own style. But, whether dancing or not, they make you believe their characters belong together when they're on the screen.

Why are they the hottest? They have so much chemistry when they're dancing together, even in plots where she doesn't like him at first there are always sparks when they're dancing, he's always down so bad for her in every single film, and their dancing is so energetic and so full of joy and so much fun to watch.

God Top Hat just…I cry a little watching Cheek to Cheek, they’re just so beautiful in that sequence

[heavenbloom]

🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ: DONATE, BOYCOTT TLOU, DAILY CLICK, STREAM THIS SONG TO DONATE

⚰︎ — 𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

song: valse sentimentale, op. 51, no. 6 - tchaikovsky

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut and slight angst, oral (r!receiving), sexual tension, afab reader, extensive descriptions of blood, blood drinking, bloody kisses, minor descriptions of pain, set in the unspecified past, omission of abby’s true identity until near the end, eventual breakdown then comfort, loosely dracula-esque, not proofread

a/n: wanted this to be a fully fleshed out oneshot but i didn’t have time😔 happy halloween from me nonetheless <3

vampire!abby, who shares an uncanny resemblance to the portraits that line her opulent walls. they gaze down at you with the same set jaw and stern brow, the same shock of golden waves. her family tree, she says, but it seems off… you have yet to lay eyes on any family. it’s as if she were a phantom that tore herself away from the constraints of oil and varnish and who is now playing the part of flesh and bone.

vampire!abby whose hospitality knows no bounds. even if her eyes glow a little too azure in the flickering flame of the hearth. even if her body is too still, her chest frozen with the lack of the in-out-in-out animal rhythm of breath. it matters not, because she has opened her home, and her heart, to you in a time of need. these little oddities don’t outweigh her charms.

and oh, how charming she is. vampire!abby has a way with words, a honeyed tongue that drags heat from within to the apples of your cheeks. the things she finds to compliment you on are never ending, all with a charismatic smile to top it off. she doesn’t dangle her affections and beckon, she lays it out flat on her palm for the taking.

vampire!abby, who you only see when the sun sets. it would have been strange, if not for the way she thrummed with a liveliness, a natural gift for conversation and entertainment that instantaneously vanished all growing doubts. she tells you stories of her adventures, spoken with the fondness of a distant memory. she shows you rare books that lay thick and dusty in your palms. the smell of worn leather and aged paper and her infiltrates your senses as she leans over your shoulder. frankincense, lavender and something unplaceable that crackles in the air. she looks at you as she flips the brittle pages gently, as if she’s read it, memorised it, a hundred times over…

vampire!abby, who keeps her restraint under control by the skin of her teeth. the sound of your pace racing rapidly beneath the thin sheet of your skin each time she comes near and the way your eyes dilate. not to mention the heady smell of your blood that fills the air night and day… she could eat you alive. oh, how she wants to, but she’s found herself growing fonder of your presence each day. she’s forgotten how lonely she has become, in this manor-shaped grave. burial site no longer, your mortal warmth makes it almost feel like a home again.

vampire!abby, who, finding herself unable to prey on you, decides to lavish you with affection instead. waltzes in the strong, soothing frame of her arms, in a ballroom so desolate the marble floor blurs as she spins and swivels you around. custom-made attire of the finest silks and velvets, all for you. then the gentler moments; the slow drag of fingertips as she buttons up your blouse, a gloved thumb trailing its way down the slope of your neck. fabric, the only thing separating the much wanted feel of skin-on-skin.

vampire!abby, who is the one to cut the suspended rope of tension between the two of you. she admits her feelings for you so sweetly, a choral my love, my love, mine. she asks you if these feelings also plague you, though she knows the answer before your lips part, with the telltale gallop of your heartbeat beneath your ribs. yes.

vampire!abby, whose lovemaking feels eternal because she knows that these moments with you are fleeting, your little mortal life a single dot in the long-drawn pages of her immortality. her lips ghost over every searing inch of skin, pressing openmouthed kisses wherever she can. she spends hours between your sprawled thighs, licking strokes between the puffy, silky lips of your cunt, nose pressed to your soaked warmth as she savours your saccharine taste slowly until your legs tremble around her head. all the while, she ignores the boiling fingers of hunger that dig into her guts. skin, sweat, essence. she swears these are the only parts of you that she will ever taste. she could never, she would never…

but vampire!abby cannot fight the nocturnal nature that calls to her like a siren song. the closer you get, the more time she spends revering your body, the less she has a grasp on her beastly temperament. she wants you, all of you. all that plagues her mind are the shivering veins that entangle through your body, the richness that lingers just beneath the surface. she thinks and thinks and thinks until the chord within her snaps.

vampire!abby, who confesses her true nature to you keeled over on the floor through heaving breaths. her fingers claw at the fabric covering your knees, not out of malice but out of desperation. her too-bright eyes are wide moons that hang over the ocean, and her brows are drawn together in pleading. this is the defiling, monstrous truth, she whispers through quivering lips. please love me as i am. i cannot bear another loss, but if you desire to leave… no harm will come to you. but i beg you, stay.

vampire!abby, who is stunned when you gather the heap of her broad, icy body into your arms. tears slip down the curve of her cheeks as you whisper soothing promises into the silken pile of her hair. you were a fool for staying, for pitying this hellish creature, but she was still the same person who had captured your heart, who clung to you now with the ferocity of somebody begging for proximity, for compassion, for companionship. you realised, just as shocked, that you would give her all these things and more.

vampire!abby, who doesn’t ask for your blood, but you offer it to her anyway, tugging down your collar and baring your craned neck to her. there is silence before you feel the velvet of her tongue gliding down the smooth expanse of skin, her fingers rubbing circles along your waist to calm any lingering nerves. her mouth travels upwards until it stops abruptly, pausing on the steadiness of your pulse beneath. she presses a feather-light kiss to the spot before you hear her the click of her expanding jaw, then the piercing, bright-burning feeling of her canines sinking deep.

vampire!abby, whose bite feels tender when the searing pain gives way to a weakening, otherworldly bliss. you melt like chocolate in sunlight when liquid ecstasy encompasses you at the feeling of fangs reaching the innermost parts of you. and she is enraptured with the taste of you, sticky ambrosia dripping thickly down her throat and seeping out the corners of her lips when greed overwhelms her. droplets spill onto her snowy collar and the silky blue cravat laced around her throat. warbling moans tickle against your skin as she savours each note, each shifting depth that reveals itself with each gulp.

vampire!abby, who licks the remnants clean. the puncture at your neck, her lips, her fingers, the valley between your breasts where stray droplets lay. not before peppering you with bloody, breathy kisses though, the tang of copper sharp on your tongue.

vampire!abby, who then bites you rarely. she could never get sick of it, but she wants this to remain a delicacy to her, something done in the intimate hours entwined together. each time, you offer a different part of your body, and she can hear the anticipatory quickening of your heartbeat. you’ve both acquired new tastes, palates that harmonise with one another and have forged a bond like no other. she can only hope that, one day, it will be forevermore.

[megumiluvv]

A beautiful anon made an ask for a Halloween post, sooo…

You, Choso, and Yuji are trick or treating for the pink-haired kid, him not-so-sneakily eating pieces of candy. As you go door-to-door, each person handing out candy assumes your Yuji’s parents.

“Oh! How cute! A little Spider-Man!” The woman handing out candy at this house says. “And your parents are the angel and devil on your shoulders! How sweet!”

This is house fifteen that this has happened. At this point, it’s been a few too many hours of walking and hearing the same observations that you’re both too tired to care or correct them. Secretly though, Choso is ecstatic that they assume you’re together, but the matching costumes probably do most of the work. Your blush would be visible if it wasn’t so dark outside, so you just smile softly and nod along to the old woman.

“The webs work too! Wanna see?” Yuji smiles brightly under the arachnid mask.

“Yuji, you don’t have to demonstrate for every house, you’ll miss out on more candy.” Choso shakes his head in his cheesy devil costume.

“Aw, come on, Choso, let him have fun.” You smile in your matching angel costume.

“You say this at every house.”

“Because he’s a kid and should enjoy showing off his spider webs.”

“Fine.” Choso sighs and nods to Yuji, who happily demonstrates the web mechanism to the old lady.

Choso likes Halloween, he really does, but this is house fifteen that Yuji has done this with. It starts to get just a little annoying at this point. You guide Choso and Yuji to the next house and hear the familiar cheerful voice of Gojo, who is wearing a cheesy Dracula costume.

“Hello! Who is this gorgeous angel I see?” He teases and leans too close for Choso’s comfort. “Maybe I should suck their pretty blood.”

Megumi just rolls his eyes at his father’s antics and walks with Yuji to the door of the house. The little kid is dressed up as a little Jack o Lantern and can barely reach to grab the other end of his bag because of the big sphere he’s in. Gojo’s friend, who you didn’t notice at first, is in a Ghost face costume. He lifts the mask and drags his friend away from you with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about him. I think he’s drank a bit too much ‘blood’ if you know what I mean.”

“I see.” You laugh and smile to Geto’s twins, fittingly dressed as the girls from The Shining.

After a few long hours, you finally make it back to Choso’s apartment and Yuji just won’t. Stop. Moving. Choso has seemed over it for a while so you step up and pick the kid up.

“Go get unready, I’ll get Yuji to bed.” You smile softly.

“Thank you.” Choso sighs with relief and hurries to his room.

Once in Yuji’s room, you help him into his Spider-Man pajamas and lay him down, turning on Hocus Pocus. Unfortunately, the little kid gets scared during the part where the Sanderson sisters are trying to drain Max’s life force, and clings to you for comfort. You notice and cover his eyes, gently rubbing his back with your other hand.

When the part is over, you whisper to Yuji. “Yu, the scary part’s over.”

Buuuut, when you look over, the boy is asleep soundly against your side. You smile softly and carefully pull him into your lap and cuddle the boy, exhausted from all the walking. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you indeed sleep whilst cuddling the pink-haired kid.

Choso walks in to check on the two of you, seeing the cutest sight he thinks he’s ever seen. Your arms wrapping around Yuji, the boy nuzzled into you and the credits of the movie rolling in the background. He grins and feels his heart flutter, carefully pulling the covers over the two of you and placing a gentle kiss on your foreheads. He could get used to this.

Happy Halloween!!

Masterlist

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

@mediokerrv @flooftoof @dazaisfavgf @mysteriaqueen

[smallestapplin]

Let me love you into the night.

🔞mating press, soft, established relationship, womb is said, size kink.🔞

Dracula x fem reader

Another repost from my now deleted side blog.

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Walking through the castle has always been something you enjoyed, but it was a bit tedious when you simply wanted to get to bed.

Unfortunately for you, unlike previous times, you’re walking to bed alone, as your husband stayed behind to handle something with his underlings.

The castle hallways always felt cold without him at your side.

Walking into your bedroom always feels unreal, the bed is quite massive and lavish, with tall bed posts with curtains to hide you from the world.

Even after all these years, you just can’t believe you married such a wonderful man. You sigh, lazily stripping so you could get into your night clothes. Yet something catches your attention before you can grab a shirt, in the corner of Dracula’s reading chair.

And on that chair lays a shirt of his, neatly laying across the arm of the plush surface.

You can’t help but stare at it, like it’s taunting you.

Your beloved is a large man, you don’t even reach his with how tall he is, not to mention how wide his shoulders are.

His shirts have always been massive on you, to put it lightly. The fabric always drags across the floor, the sleeves nearly touching the floor.

You walk over to the large chair, picking up the oversized shirt and bring it up to your nose, taking a deep inhale.

Oh, the smell of him alone is enough affect you, the deep smell of oak, wine, and a hint of copper from the blood he drinks, it’s so overwhelmingly comforting.

It’s a deep rich blend, that’s perfect for him.

You can’t resist. You grab the hem and pull it over your head, allowing yourself to drown in his shirt. But in turn, you’re surrounded in his scent. Maybe you can fall asleep faster with this.

Happy with your sleepwear of course, you crawl into bed and under the cozy comforter. You lay there half and hour more, hoping and waiting to see if maybe Dracula would be here soon. You know he can get quite busy, so it doesn’t sting as much when he doesn’t arrive.

You move over, getting on his side of the bed and laying on his pillow, before curling up and getting comfy. Finding it easier to fall asleep surrounded by his rich scent.

You were awoken by the feeling of the mattress sinking, accompanied with the hushed sounds of someone whispering.

You groan, barely cracking your eyes open to see Dracula sitting next to you, cooing softly at your sleepy form.

“I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

His voice barely above a whisper.

He brings a hand up, gently stroking your head. You lean into his touch, nearly falling back asleep at such comfort.

“But I couldn’t resist when you look so positively adorable in my clothes.”

You let out sleepy giggles, feeling his goatee tickle your skin while he presses soft kisses all over your face. His long silver hair creates a curtain around you both, as you let the vampire love you without a care.

“M’sorry.” You yawn, stretching a little before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him a little closer.

His hands move to either side of you, keeping his weight off you while caging you between him and the bed.

“I saw it on your chair, and I missed you, so it helped.” You bury your face into his neck, sighing contently that you get to hold him again.

Dracula purrs, nuzzling his face into your neck as well, leaving little kisses in his wake.

“I’m sorry beloved, I didn’t mean to take so long.”

“It’s okay.” You mumble, finding comfort in him being over you like this.

You feel him shift, moving you on your back and laying in between your legs. He lifts himself up, looking down at you he can’t help but admire you.

How you’re practically drowning in his shirt, how you’re so much smaller than him, so much softer than the calloused skin of the vampire.

“Stop staring like that, it’s embarrassing.”

Dracula blinks a few times before softly laughing at your bashful face.

“My apologies, dearest, you’re just far too sweet. How can I not gaze at such beauty?”

He leans down, leaving kisses along your cheek, slowly moving closer and closer until he gets to your lips.

He pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes with pure want. You pull him further down by his shoulders, finally pressing your lips against his.

He hums into the kiss, pressing some of his weight against you. He brings a hand to cup your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek, while being mindful of his nails. You melt against the bed, relishing in his tender touches, and the weight of him against you.

You whimper, squirming when his tongue lightly touches your bottom lip. You part your lips, allowing him to slowly slide the tapered appendage in. You tighten your hold on his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself.

You to let out a muffled gasp, feeling his cock hardening against your thigh. Your movement and sounds aren’t helping him, he simply wanted to tell you how cute you were.

Oh, who is he kidding? He found you in his garb, sleeping so soundly, as if you were at peace in his clothes. How could he not be affected by such a lovely sight?

He twists his tongue around yours, soaking up all your sounds and licking up all your drool, wanting it all for himself. You can’t help the whimper that leaves your throat, feeling his fangs brush against your lips.

He pulls away from you, letting you take gulps of air. You stare up at him, eyes shimmering with want as the thin strand of spit connecting you two, breaks on your lips.

“My, you certainly are an intoxicating sight.”

Your breathing hics, as the hand on your cheek slides down your neck, slowly over your tit, down to your side before reaching the hem of the shirt. Dracula lightly drags his nails across the bare skin of your outer thigh, delighting in how you tremble for him.

Once his hand reaches your hips, you see his red eyes flash up at you, smirk on his lips.

“No underwear? What a naughty little thing you are.”

He sits up, resting on the bed with his legs under him. His other hand now free to join under your shirt, this time only sliding up much further.

Your skin prickles at his featherlight touch, only to mewl when his large hand cups your breast. A purr rumbles in his chest, as he eyes you like a meal.

“You truly are filled with surprises, my treasure.”

You squeak as his thumb brushes against your perked nipple, carefully taking the bud between his thumb and pointer finger, lightly squeezing it.

“Mm! Ooh, Vlad…please stop teasing me.”

“Oh but why? You look quite ravishing like this. All flustered under me, squirming. I can hear your heart pounding, Love. You like this as much as I do.”

He’s not wrong, you can’t deny how much you want him. How much you need him to fuck you, to love you.

Dracula lifts the shirt just over your chest, wanting to keep you in it as long as he could - Yet finding it a difficult balance between keeping it on and just tearing it off, so he could finally admire your wondrous body.

The hand on your hip trails over, gently sliding down your wet slit. He chuckles at how you try to control yourself. His fingers slide up and down, until he’s sure they are coated in your slick. He pushes one finger into your clenching hole, one’s you feel aren’t sharp. He grins at seeing your back arch.

His thumb began rubbing slow circles on your clit, teasing you with his light touches. You want to beg him for more, but your body is still sensitive from waking up, you don’t know if you could handle it.

Dracula leans back down, licking a long strip up your stomach, slowly drooling as he moves up your body. It’s not long before his tongue flicks your nipple, and wrapping his lips around it, gently biting and sucking on it.

Tugging at your other one, listening to you cry out.

It’s all at once! You can feel his fangs scraping against the soft flesh of your tit, but you know they pose no threat. The feel of his goatee brushing across your skin.

His large hand squeezing and caressing the other.

And oh, his rough hand fingering you open! You whine as he pushes another finger into your hole. You reach up, running your fingers through his silver locks, holding his hair out of his face and holding his head to your chest.

“V-Vlad!” You can’t help but cry his name.

You buck your hips, trying to grind against his hand.

“Come on, please? Haaa- please! I want you inside me!”

He moans around your tit, only letting go of it to speak to you.

“So needy. Have some patience, beloved.”

Before you can retort, his fingers curl, easily hitting your sweet spots with ease. Your toes curl at the pleasure, with your body feeling like a live wire.

“You’re truly a sight, so stunning. Like a sweet little deity under me, letting me pleasure you like this.”

You shriek, squirming as you feel his palm grind against your clit, with his fingers tenderly rubbing that delicate spot inside you. Dracula bites his lip, watching you cum, watching your body tense and shake, coating his hand with your juices.

“There you go, Little love… Shhh you’ve done so well for me.”

He helps you ride your high, only pulling his fingers away when you fall limp against the bed. You lean your head back against the pillows, chest heaving from your orgasm. You shakily open your eyes, squeaking as Dracula pulls his hand from your cunt, bringing them to his face just to lick them clean.

His eyes glow a soft red as he moans at your taste.

“Like the finest ambrosia…”

Your face feels hot, but you can just sit there a watch the vampire toss his cloak aside. Your eyes instantly going to where his hands go.

“You’re shaking, and I haven’t even undone my pants yet.”

“Hnn don’t tease me, not like this.”

You plead with him, looking up at him with tear filled eyes and a pouting lip.

How can he say no to you?

Dracula merely chuckles, aware of how you’re staring at the large bulge in his pants. You wait with bated breath at the first sound of his belt, then the zipper, watching him pull his pants down just far enough to free his dick.

You spread your legs further apart, putting your pussy on display for him, letting him see your juices drip down to the bed. His cock throbs at the sight, tip leaking precum just staring at your cunt.

You bite your lip as he spreads your pussylips apart with his thumbs, eyeing your soaked hole hungrily. You knew what he wanted to do, but you just wanted him.

“Is it too much to ask for my husband’s cock?”

His eyes quickly snapping up to meet yours.

“Just to stuff me full of it? Please, I need your cock in me, fucking me to the brim-!!”

You cut yourself off with a yelp, while Dracula grabs the back of knees and brings them up, they nearly touch your chest with how he has your folded.

“Fuck, you make it so hard to take my time with you.”

You let out a soft whine, feeling him rub his cock against your dripping wet heat.

“When all I desire is to cherish you, you look at me with such pitiful expressions- Ones I cannot resist.”

Your breathing catches in your throat, watching the head of his dick press against your cunt. You toss your head back, wrapping your arms around his neck while you mewl at him pressing into you.

“Maybe it’s because I adore you so, you’ve taken over my thoughts, my heart. I crave you.”

“Vlaaad!” You whine, panting even though he’s barely half way inside you.

You feel so full! He just keeps pushing into you. Rubbing your thighs to help soothe you, though he knows you can take it, you always have.

“I love you so much. I want to love you like this, every waking moment, to just have you.”

The vampire looks down at you, taking in the sight of your watery eyes, your flushed face, and just how stuffed you are. Dracula lets go off your legs, letting them rest on his shoulders as he leans over you, caging you between him and the bed.

His body covering you, blocking you from the rest of the world. He’s all you can see, he’s all you can hear, he’s all you feel.

“Mm, watching you fall apart on my cock is too addicting.”

He grinds his hips against yours, letting you feel the heavy weight of his balls against your ass. He buries his face into your neck, lavishing the skin with kisses, and tender nips.

“Feeling your touch leaves me delirious, wanting only more.”

Dracula pulls his hips back, leaving only half of his cock inside you, only to gently push back in, setting an even rhythm.

Every roll of his hips, sends his cock so deep into your pussy, kissing your womb with each gentle thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders, crying out with every thrust.

“Ooh! S’good, s’good!”

“You’re squeezing me too tight, darling!”

His words and how lovingly he fucks your body, it’s making your head spin!

“I love you! I love you! Please-“ you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, muffling your pleads.

His sharp nails lightly dig into your thighs, but you’re too much for the vampire! You’re too sweet, too good, always leaving him longing for more of you just to get a taste again.

With every piston of his hips, his balls slaps against your ass, letting the room fill with the sounds of your love making.

Your body jolts, parting from his lips after he nips them. Moaning when he licks your bleeding lips clean.

“S-so good to me, my-oh!- sweet husband! Always too good for me!”

His eyes flutter back, before he lets out a low growl. He can feel his shaft throbbing at your words, ready to spill his load into you.

“You always do so good for me. I want you to cum for me again, milk my cock.”

You squeal, tugging at his hair as your cream all over his dick. Dracula moans at feeling your small pussy squeeze around him. His balls clench as he pumps his thick cum into your greedy cunt, grinding his hips to make sure you take all of it.

Your pitiful whimpers are like music to his ears.

He coos softly at you, wiping your overstimulated tears. You’re exhausted once more, you just want to go back to sleep. Only to be drawn back by a few tender kisses.

You lazily chuckle, glancing to your lover.

Locking with his shimmering red eyes, and seeing the warm smile across his face.

“I hope you don’t plan on falling asleep just yet, I still have to clean you up.”

He cackles at how you thrown you head back and groan.

“Noooo, I don’t want to, not yet, please?”

“Darling, I need to get you washed up and ready for bed.”

“I want to stay full, I don’t want to be empty just yet.”

Dracula coughs, almost choking on air, as he stares at you, eyes wide.

Oh how you get him so flustered sometimes. He sighs, keeping his cock inside you as he flips you two over, letting you lay on his chest without his dick ever leaving your pussy.

“How about this then?”

He hums happily as you nuzzle into his chest.

“This is perfect.”

He smiles, rubbing small circles on your lower back. He can’t believe he got so lucky in love once more, to have found you, and to earn your love.

He feels a warmth in his chest just thinking about it.

“I love you, my treasure.”

“Mm I love you too, my husband.”

He could swoon at just hearing you call him that.

He still has to bathe you, and get you cleaned. Looking down he finds you’ve completely passed out on him. Even if he wanted to, he doubted he could bring himself to disturb you resting so peacefully- So what a few hours of rest with you more

[vrfinalgirl]

CUPIDS KINKTOBER 2024 !!

welcome to cupids first kinktober!! I’m so so excited to do this and it’s going to span over all three of my accounts !! @suneslvr @cupids-archives #requests are open 😇

current hyper fixations are, dc, mha, lmk, black myth wukong, creepypasta/slashers, degrees of lewdity, boyfriend to death(1+2)/tpof, scp, & genshin impact! If I don’t get a request for a specific day the default would be one of these fandoms. 💉 submission rules!

(all of these could be customized!)

₊˚♱ ━ October 1rst -- MONSTER?

🩸: your laying in bed on Halloween night. The air is cold and your bedroom is even colder. As you lure yourself asleep, you hear a ghostly sound coming from your closet!

💉: (stalker x fem!reader, stalking, dub/non-con, death threats, choking, and size kink.)

🔪: OPEN

₊˚♱ ━ October 5th — MR. SANDMAN!

🩸: your dreams are constantly plagued by a pale figure. Soon these dreams start to become a reality. Will you wake up before he catches you?

💉 : (dream-spirit x fem!reader, coercion, dub-con, overstim, dream-fucking, somnophilia.)

🔪 : OPEN

₊˚♱ ━ October 10th — DRACULA!

🩸: As a lonely adventurer you wander the 1800s Europeans streets looking for treasure and lost artifacts, soon you come across a castle with everything you’ve ever wanted, little do you know about the secret that lies above.

💉: (sealed! monster x fem! reader, dub- con, blood play, religious text, monsterfucking, hallucinations, happy ending(?))

🔪: OPEN

₊˚♱ ━ October 15th — LOVE POTION.

🩸: you come back to town after a long vacation. Every person you come across has this love crazed look in their eye? You rush to return home after getting cornered by people you’ve thought were your friends? what’s gotten into everyone?!

💉: (threesomes, overstim, breeding, possessiveness, aphrodisiacs, mentions of non-con, and dub-con)

🔪: OPEN

₊˚♱ ━ October 20th — SERIAL KILLER!

🩸: An odd alert shows up on your phone? A serial killer has escaped! and it’s—? … soon you start to receive calls and messages from an unknown number. will you be the sadistic killers new victim?

💉: (knife play, dub-con to consenting, threats, mentions of murder/gore, mentions of rape.)

🔪 : OPEN

₊˚♱ ━ October 25th — THE CONJURING.

🩸: Series of people in your town have been found in massive murder-suicides. Some believe the small- time life finally got to them. others an otherworldly demon.

💉: (possession, mutual masturbation, monsterfucking, suicide/murder mention, dub-con)

🔪: OPEN

₊˚♱ ━ October 30th — UNDER LOCK AND KEY!

🩸: you and your friend are invited to a Halloween party! Unfortunately the two of you get lost on the way there, however an old timely couple picks you up and allows you to stay for the weekend. Everything seems to get along quite nicely, except for the screaming you hear in the basement.

💉: (mentions of incest, gang-banging, corruption, cockwarming, cannibalism, brat taming,dacraphilia, drug use)

🔪: OPEN

₊˚♱ ━ OCTOBER 31RST — HALLOWEEN.

—- CHOOSE YOUR KINK. + YOUR CHARACTER!

🔪: OPEN. 🔪: OPEN. 🔪: OPEN

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

After a quick Google and a few reviews, you decide on a brand. You pick a box off the shelf. It should do the job as long as you apply it properly. You’re not so worried about yourself. 

Something drops along the edge of your vision and you peek over. A man walks away ignorant of the card left behind. You hurry to scoop it up. 

“Excuse me, sir, you dropped--” You click to a stop in your heels as he faces you. You smile as he mirrors your expression. “Peter!?” 

“Hey, Missie.” His brown eyes beam back at you. “What are the odds?” 

“It’s been so long. Um...” you look down at the card then wiggle it at him. “You dropped this.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” 

He accepts the card with a dimple in his cheek. You look at it and realise it’s nothing special. Just a loyalty card from Roasters. It is a great shop. 

“Haven’t heard from you since the paper. You said you’d keep in touch.” He shifts his stance so another customer can squeeze by. 

“Yeah, uh, I meant to. I’ve been really cruddy at keeping up. Work is so busy and--” 

“What’s that for?” He quickly redirects as he points at the box in your hands. “You dye your hair? Wouldn’t guess it.” 

“Oh, no it’s for... my boss,” you giggle. 

“Your boss. Right. I’m sorry, what exactly do you do now?” 

“I’m a PA. My boss is just demanding. That’s all. But it’s good pay and it keeps me on my toes.” 

“Ah, I left the paper too. Started my own photography business.” He explains. 

“I saw that on Insta! I follow you. Your stuff is so good.” 

“You follow me but you don’t message,” he crosses his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” you pout. You rattle the box in your hands. You don’t want to be abrupt but you really can’t keep Mr. Hansen waiting too long and you still need to grab shampoo. 

“We should catch up. How about dinner? What are you doing tonight?” Peter asks. 

“Oh, er, nothing.” 

“Great. How about Zak’s? That old sandwich shop near the paper. I remember your fave; the spicy italian with extra pickles.” He grins triumphantly. 

“Sure, that sounds awesome. Just... send me a message, okay? I gotta get back to my boss.” 

“Sure, don’t let her work you too hard,” he steps out of your way. 

“He,” you correct him. “It’s not hard work, just a lot.” 

You sweep down the aisle and grab a clarifying shampoo on your way to the checkout. Even just a few minutes is too long for Mr. Hansen and in his state, you don’t expect him to be any calmer. All you can hope for is that the remover works out. 

Back at the office, you measure your dread. It won’t be that bad. You can fix this. Maybe. You grabbed some dye too, hoping maybe you might be able to even everything out after. 

You drop your purse on your desk and flit over to Mr. Hansen’s office. You knock and hear him groaning from inside. As you enter, he’s bent over his lap, holding his head. He sits up so fast his chair teeters. He faces your chirpy greeting. 

“Mr. Hansen,” you sing, “I got everything we need.” 

“Why the fuck are you so cheery?” 

As you look at him, like really look at him, you find it hard not to laugh. He really does look awful. He’s not exactly your type but he isn’t too bad most days. The black dye just washes him out. He looks like Dracula if he was in a 70s adult flick. 

“So, we need to wash your hair. I figured we can use your sink. I even grabbed a towel.” 

“You think of everything, don’t you?” He hisses. 

“Sir, I think we can fix your hair.” 

He scowls and stands. He shakes his head and slinks to the en suite bathroom. You follow with the bag of goodies. He looms with arms crossed as you put it on the counter and unpack. 

“You can put the towel around your collar to keep the remover from dripping. Tuck it in to--” 

Before you can finish, his shirt is half unbuttoned. You turn to unbox the remover and peel the seal of the bottle as you quiet. Whatever’s easier, you suppose. He hangs his shirt on the back of the door and comes back to you. You get a glimpse of his chest hair in the mirror. 

“Alright, erm, bend over the sink and we need to wash your hair. How about you put the towel over your eyes--” 

“I can handle it.” He snatches the towel and folders it over his forehead and eyes. He bends over the sink. His broad shoulders strain as his muscles tighten. “Don’t fuck up my hair.” 

You want to tell him you don’t think it can get worse but you know better. You take one of the paper cups from the stack and crank on the faucet.  You feel the temperature before you fill the cup and carefully pour it over his head. You wet all the strands and squirt shampoo onto his hair. You lather it up, scratching his scalp with your nails. 

“Mmmph,” he purrs as your work away. You smile. He’s a bit like a cat. Cranky but manageable. 

You rinse his hair methodically. You make sure not to get any near his face as you use your hand to redirect the water. When you finish, you help him cover his hair with the towel. 

You roll in his chair from the office and have him sit. You rub the moisture of his hair with the towel and drape it around his shoulders. You pull the gloves on and mix up the remover in the bottle then take the comb out of the box. You go to Mr. Hansen as he sits, looking despondent. 

“It fucking reeks,” he wrinkles his nose at the odour. 

“I did warn you but once we rinse it out, you’ll be good as new.” You comb his hair back, then forward, and pull out a thin section. You slather it on precisely as you work through the strands. 

As you pay close attention to your task, you feel the tension ease from him. When you get through the longer pieces on the top of his head, you push the back again. You use your gloved fingers to do his sides, rubbing in the remover on the buzzed stubble. As you do, he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. 

Well, it’s better than him being angry. This might be the most relaxed you’ve ever seen Mr. Hansen. 

[feyhunter78]

Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights

Art Cred: Kimmy_art0912 on Insta! Description: Among pulsating music, colorful lights, and a few girls who can't keep their eyes to themselves tensions rise, and your patience has finally run out. Happy Valentine's Day my loves!

The music is loud, blaring through the speakers, vibrating through the floor, multicolored lights spin, casting circles of neon colors across the walls of the bar. The smell of spilled drinks and perfume fills the air as you enter, your hand gripping Miguel’s bicep as you scan the room for Janey.

It’s been…a bit weird since your encounter in Miguel’s room a few weeks ago. At first, you were afraid you’d fucked up, that you had overstepped and ruined your friendship, but then it all kinda went back to normal. As normal as the tentative relationship between two people who almost kissed could be.

When you invited him to be your date for your sorority’s semiformal, on Valentine’s Day no less, you were so very afraid. What if he said no, what if everything you thought you saw, that you felt back in his room was all in your head? Which is why you said as friends right as he said yes. No going back then, so you—like a coward—played up the platonicness of it all, and tried to pretend like you weren’t avoiding eye contact.

Then everything got even weirder with the whole Ava thing. You swore up and down to everyone—except Mina—that you and Miguel are purely platonic, even when you gave him the cold shoulder and cried over him talking with his ex. Super embarrassing, no one but Miguel potentially believed you, and now you’re in a prison of your own making. You should’ve just grabbed him when he came to your door to apologize, should’ve kissed him when he stood in your room admiring his costume. Why didn’t you?

One of your sisters drifts by, bumping into Miguel, fluttering her eyelashes at him as she apologizes.

Right, that’s why, because you’re jealous and insecure and can’t stand to see other people flirt with him. So it’s better to just keep your distance so you don’t end up crying again.

Miguel’s bicep is solid under your grasp, so large your hand can’t even grip all of it.

The theme of the night was Great Lovers of History, which was a fancy way of saying dress like your favorite couple. It wasn’t hard to pick a costume, you, and Miguel both love the novel Dracula, even if it wasn’t as popular as the movie was. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making some undignified noise when you saw how good Miguel looked. Those stupid huge muscles bulging, his broad chest, his toned back, he somehow made the ridiculous costume look impressive, and he even wore red contacts to get that perfect vampiric look.

You of course looked hot as hell, dressed in a flowy, but scandalously low cut white dress, hair curled and bouncy. Bram Stoker had never named Dracula’s Brides, but there was one, seemingly the eldest, that he favored over the other, so you decided to claim her role for the night.

“I don’t see Janey yet, she said she was already here.” You yell over the music, throwing a smile to one of your sisters as she passes by with her date. They’re dressed like Jim and Pam from The Office, it’s cute, a bit basic, but cute.

“Maybe she’s at the bar?” Miguel suggests leaning down to hear you better as he guides you through the crowd.

You can see people’s eyes on him, drinking him in, and feel another stab of jealousy. You know he looks hot, but he’s your date, not theirs. They can keep their eyes to themselves.

Janey and her date Eddie are dressed like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcey. You spot them immediately, right at the bar where Miguel suggested they might be.

You gush over Janey’s outfit, and she gushes over yours, and for a while that’s it. It’s a nice night, you drink, have fun with your friends, dance with Miguel, try not to feel insane over the number of times you have to remind someone that Miguel is here with you, and generally have a good time.

Then someone starts crying. It’s a new member, one whose Big is currently more interested in making out with her boyfriend in one of the bar’s booths than paying attention to her Little.

The new member, Addy, has tears in her eyes and mascara running down her cheeks as you usher her towards the bathroom, promising Miguel you’ll be back as soon as someone is able to break Danika away from her boyfriend.

You dry Addy’s tears while she tells you that she’s just so overwhelmed. That she brought the guy she has a crush on with her, but he seems more interested in one of the other girls in her new member class than her.

“And then Kaley said, ‘oh we have a class together, I was just saying hi,’ but like why don’t you just say hi then leave, why is she trying to dance with him?” Addy sobs, taking the paper towels from your hands and burying her face in them.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m sure he’s just trying to be nice and that’s why he’s dancing with her.” You coo, smoothing down her hair.

“And her boobs look so much better than mine.” Addy continues, flinging herself into your arms, and hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

“What? No, no way, you look amazing! And hey, if that’s why he’s dancing with her than he’s an ass, and you deserve better.”

“She literally brought her own date, and she’s been ignoring him! Spencer is a nice guy, we had Intro to Philosophy together last semester, and he took really good notes, so he would let me borrow them when I missed something or got sick. And, and he’s like super cute, I don’t know why she wouldn’t just stay with him.”

You bite your tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you should go talk with Spencer then, if your date is going to be an asshole, then there’s nothing wrong with talking to someone who isn’t. You don’t even have to dance with him, just go say hi. I bet he’s feeling the same way you are.”

Addy sniffles and nods, wiping away the last of her tears. “Yeah, Spencer has a really big heart, I’m sure he’s upset.”

You give her an encouraging smile and keep your hand on her upper back, supporting her as she walks past her date, who is very clearly staring at Kaley’s boobs.

Spencer pops his head up when he sees Addy, a smile spreading across his lips. “Hey Addy, you doing okay? I um…I saw you crying, I wanted to go over, but…”

“I’m okay, how about you? We’re kinda in the same boat, aren’t we?” She says, taking the seat next to him.

He scoots over so she has more room, his head dipping down to hear her better, his body language screaming I like you; I feel safe with you. It’s adorable, you feel like Cupid, as you watch the two immediately fall into a deep discussion about emotions and the philosophy behind them.

Now that Addy was taken care of, you roll your shoulders out and stop at the bar before heading back towards the dance floor. You don’t really know how it happened but two shots later and everything you’ve been drinking the whole night is finally catching up with you.

The only thing on your mind is Miguel, how much you adore him, how handsome he looks, how every fake bitch in this room has been eyeing him like a hyena eyes a wounded gazelle. You have to find him; you can’t leave your wounded gazelle all alone in this pack of jackals.

You find him, but he’s not alone. Your sister, though not one you particularly care for, is talking to him, well, trying to at least.

Dana is dressed pretty basic, red dress, and heels. You’re not sure who she’s supposed to be, and she doesn’t look bad, but the dress is too small, it doesn’t fit her right, and the color makes her skin look washed out.

“So, who are you with?” Dana shouts over the music, clearly unable to see you as you approach from the side, basically hidden by the other dancers.

“Y/N.” Miguel answers, eyes darting back to the bathroom entrance, your drink still in his hand, his discarded somewhere.

Poor thing, he didn’t see you leave.

“She left you all alone? That’s so mean.” Dana says, giving him an overexaggerated pout.

“She went to take care of a new member.” He says, always so quick to defend you.

She trails a finger down his chest, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Still, she shouldn’t leave a handsome thing like you alone.”

Miguel goes red, taking a step back, sputtering. “I—um, thank you, but I’m here with y/n, and—”

“Yeah, but y/n’s not here now, come on, live a little.” She takes your drink from Miguel’s hand. “This yours?”

Before he can say anything, she drains it, and smiles at him.

“That uh…that wasn’t mine.” Miguel says, taking another step back as she loops her arms around his neck and tries to pull him down to her level.

“Oh, too bad, and it looks like y/n still isn’t back, obviously you’re not that important to her, so why don’t you follow me upstairs?”

“Upstairs is blocked off.” Miguel says, so sweet, so oblivious. “And I’m waiting for y/n.”

He tries to gently push Dana away, but she hangs on. “Ugh, come on, y/n is so lame, don’t you want to have fun? You can have fun with me.”

You’ve had enough, blood boiling, you tap her on the shoulder, making both her and Miguel jump.

“Dana, your date is looking for you.” You say, saccharine sweet smile on your lips, your voice dripping with honey coated venom.

She untangles herself from Miguel, who looks like you caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Ugh, he’s so needy. Anyways, come find me if you need me, Miguel.”

The moment she leaves, Miguel turns to you, apologies spilling from his lips like water. “Y/N, I swear nothing happened, she just came up to me, and I told her I was here with you, but she kept going, and then she wanted me to go upstairs with her, and I told her upstairs is closed, and I was waiting for you and—”

You grab him by the neck of his costume and drag him off the dance floor, past the pitiful sign that asks people to stay away from the second floor, and up the stairs. Usually, the upper floor is open to the public. It’s a more secluded seating area with its own smaller bar and thick glass walls that block out some of the sound from below, bisected by cement pillars offering a modicum of privacy.

You’re tired of this, of watching everyone else get to grab him, touch him, flirt with him, he’s yours.

It’s darker on the second level, only a few safety lights, and the multicolored strobe lights flashing up from the first floor. It’s quieter as well, you can finally hear yourself think.

You keep walking until you find the corner booth and shove Miguel into it. Not for the first time you’re glad these damn booths are so big, Miguel can sit properly, facing you, without having to scrunch up. The alcohol in your system is making you brave, and a little horny, but mostly brave. You can see its effects on Miguel as well, the flush of his cheeks, the slight glaze in his eyes.

“Dulzura, please, don’t be upset, I promise, nothing happened, I wouldn’t—I’m here with you, and I know that we’re here as—as friends, but still, I wouldn’t…I didn’t—still don’t want to dance or spend time with anyone else.”

He looks so pretty, stumbling over his words, his hair all ruffled, his tone so sweet and pleading. You want him, bad. You know you shouldn’t. You were the one who said it was platonic, just friends, but when he’s here, looking the way he does, and everyone is circling around him like vultures, you just…

Fuck it.

You straddle him, grab his face, and kiss him.

Miguel short circuits, hands frozen in midair, body tense, and then it’s like a dam opens. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer, his lips moving in synchronicity with yours, warm, plush, the taste of tequila on his tongue, or maybe it’s yours, you can’t tell anymore. You’re practically devouring him with how desperate you are to finally, finally kiss him.

“Fuck, Miguel, I—I can’t be just friends with you, I can’t do it anymore.” You admit, breath catching in your throat when Miguel grabs your ass, his big warm hands hauling you even closer. “I need more, we have to be more.”

“We can be anything, anything you want.” Miguel says breathlessly, his glasses fogging up from the heat between you.

You tug his head back by his hair and attach your lips to his neck, biting down hard, intent on leaving your mark. “Don’t want other girls thinking you’re up for grabs, you’re mine, been mine since the first day of class.”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours y/n.” He whimpers, his hands caressing your body nonsensically, as if he can’t decide where to put them.

“Such a good boy for me, Miguel, looking so handsome, always so sweet, always saying just the right thing.” You continue your onslaught until his neck looks like a crime scene.

“Kiss me, please y/n, I need—please, please, I’ve wanted this for so long, please kiss me again.” Miguel begs breathlessly, looking absolutely wrecked.

So, you do, gladly, over, and over, and over again, until he builds the courage to tangle his hands in your hair, to venture under your skirt and grip your bare thighs, as he moans and squirms beneath you.

You can’t fuck him here, it’s too public, too rushed, especially knowing what you know, there’s no way in hell you’ll let Miguel’s first time be a drunken quickie at a bar. So, you pull back, cupping his cheeks, smiling softly when he whines and tries to chase after your lips.

You press your thumb to his lips, shaking your head. “We can’t, not here.”

“Why not?” He whines, pupils blown wide with lust, chest rising and falling rapidly, his grip brushing on your thigh and hip.

“Because I like you, and I respect you, so I won’t fuck you in a bar.” You tell him, pressing a chaste kiss to his kiss swollen lips before sliding from his lap.

Miguel pouts, actually pouts at you, and you nearly give in, but you steel yourself.

“Come on sweet boy, let’s go back to the party.”

He blinks at you as if he’s coming up from underwater, slow, liquid, then he bites his lip. “I um…I’m going to need a minute.”

You glance down and heat rushes to your face.

He’s hard, and huge, like massive, and your resolve starts to waver.

“What if I just?” You sit astride his lap and ghost your fingers over his covered cock. “Give you a hand?”

Nerd!Miguel Masterlist and the "part two" here

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Writing Advice #?: Don’t write out accents.

The Surface-Level Problem: It’s distracting at best, illegible at worst. 

The following passage from Sons and Lovers has never made a whit of sense to me:

“I ham, Walter, my lad,’ ’e says; ‘ta’e which on ’em ter’s a mind.’ An’ so I took one, an’ thanked ’im. I didn’t like ter shake it afore ’is eyes, but ’e says, ‘Tha’d better ma’e sure it’s a good un. An’ so, yer see, I knowed it was.’”

There’s almost certainly a point to that dialogue — plot, character, theme — but I could not figure out what the words were meant to be, and gave up on the book.  At a lesser extreme, most of Quincey’s lines from Dracula (“I know I ain’t good enough to regulate the fixin’s of your little shoes”) cause American readers to sputter into laughter, which isn’t ideal for a character who is supposed to be sweet and tragic.  Accents-written-out draw attention to mechanical qualities of the text.

Solution #1: Use indicators outside of the quote marks to describe how a character talks.  An Atlanta accent can be “drawling” and a London one “clipped”; a Princeton one can sound “stiff” and a Newark one “relaxed.”  Do they exaggerate their vowels more (North America) or their consonants more (U.K., north Africa)?  Do they sound happy, melodious, frustrated?

The Deeper Problem: It’s ignorant at best, and classist/racist/xenophobic at worst.

You pretty much never see authors writing out their own accents — to the person who has the accent, the words just sound like words.  It’s only when the accent is somehow “other” to the author that it gets written out.

And the accents that we consider “other” and “wrong” (even if no one ever uses those words, the decision to deliberately misspell words still conveys it) are pretty much never the ones from wealthy and educated parts of the country.  Instead, the accents with misspelled words and awkward inflection are those from other countries, from other social classes, from other ethnicities.  If your Maine characters speak normally and your Florida characters have grammatical errors, then you have conveyed what you consider to be correct and normal speech.  We know what J.K. Rowling thinks of French-accented English, because it’s dripping off of Fleur Delacour’s every line.

At the bizarre extreme, we see inappropriate application of North U.K. and South U.S.-isms to every uneducated and/or poor character ever to appear in fan fic.  When wanting to get across that Steve Rogers is a simple Brooklyn boy, MCU fans have him slip into “mustn’t” and “we is.”  When conveying that Robin 2.0 is raised poor in Newark, he uses “ain’t” and “y’all” and “din.”  Never mind that Iron Man is from Manhattan, or that Robin 3.0 is raised wealthy in Newark; neither of them ever gets a written-out accent.

Solution #2: A little word choice can go a long way, and a little research can go even further.  Listen carefully to the way people talk — on the bus, in a café, on unscripted YouTube — and write down their exact word choice.  “We good” literally means the same thing as “no thank you,” but one’s a lot more formal than the other.  “Ain’t” is a perfectly good synonym for “am not,” but not everyone will use it.

The Obscure Problem: It’s not even how people talk.

Look at how auto-transcription software messes up speaking styles, and it’s obvious that no one pronounces every spoken sound in every word that comes out of their mouth.  Consider how Americans say “you all right?”; 99% of us actually say something like “yait?”, using tone and head tilt to convey meaning.  Politicians speak very formally; friends at bars speak very informally.

An example: I’m from Baltimore, Maryland.  Unless I’m speaking to an American from Texas, in which case I’m from “Baltmore, Marlind.”  Unless I’m speaking to an American from Pennsylvania, in which case I’m from “Balmore, Marlin.”  If I’m speaking to a fellow Marylander, I’m of course from “Bamor.”  (If I’m speaking to a non-American, I’m of course from “Washington D.C.”)  Trying to capture every phoneme of change from moment to moment and setting to setting would be ridiculous; better just to say I inflect more when talking to people from outside my region.

When you write out an accent, you insert yourself, the writer, as an implied listener.  You inflict your value judgments and your linguistic ear on the reader, and you take away from the story.

Solution #3: When in doubt, just write the dialogue how you would talk.

[pasdasin]

Wicked Game

wolverine x vampire!reader

an: omgg I am so happy yall like this! thank you for almost 100 notes!! If you want to be added to my tag list pls comment and ill do my best!! Remember Logan beefs with Alex Summers not Scott bc Scott is my son (dofp casting)

ch 2

warnings: mentions of blood, needles, generic doctor stuff, cussing i think, angst, poor reader :(

previous -- next

~~~~~

The next day you were sitting the in teachers break room, listening to Hank and Charles debate on what to do for the annual end of year movie night. Both options sounded boring, a basic slasher and some movie about a train. You turned to your right to look at your other close friend, Storm. 

“I heard Scott learned Dracula was about you” She hummed, bored of the debate as well. “I was wondering if you finally would tell your version of events?” You turned to look at her and pierced your lips. Thinking about the choice before you. It would be nice to get to talk about it, but at the same time you didn’t see it as fair to only do it since you brought it up to tease the boy. 

“I’m not su-” “She’ll do it” You turned harshly to the voice behind you and not surprisingly it was Logan. 

“Are you serious?” You pushed his arm away as his tried to lower it down on your shoulder. 

“What are you not proud to be a vampire?” 

“I am not a vampire” You grumbled looking back to Storm, who was also starting to get over this conversation. “Yeah sure whatever” She smiled and squeezed your arm as a thank you before leaving the two of you alone. 

Logan looked down at you and smiled. “I ate some broccoli today.”

“Wow. I’m impressed it wasn’t also soaked in scotch”

“Well I didn’t say that” You giggled at his response. You decided to get more comfortable under his arm, sinking into his side. Turning your attention back to Charles and Hank who finally agreed to a movie. The Breakfast Club. As they reached the decision, Alex Summers entered the room. 

Alex Summers was everything he was supposed to be. Kind, tall, handsome. The school girl crush of almost every girl that attended the school. He was calm, he was smart, he was caring, and he hated it. 

“Oh hey y/n.” He always wanted to be with you. You felt Logan tense up against you, his face contorting into an annoyed expression.

“Watch it bub” Logan said, staring at him intensely. You instinctively scratched his back to help him relax.

“Hi Alex! You need to stop by my office later for your check up.” You reminded him cheerfully. Alex thanked you for the reminder, promising to see you before Logan pulled you up with him and out of the lounge. In fact he managed to somehow pull you along out of that section of the mansion before he finally let go of you. 

“Dude what is your problem”

“I don’t like him”

“Yeah no shit.” You remarked, causing him to look down at you and raise an eyebrow. 

“I also don’t like when your sassy.” He poked your forehead with his finger, causing your face to scrunch up. “Besides your giving a presentation about your life, you need to make good on that promise” 

“I didn’t know you cared so much”

“I don’t” Oh. There it was. The fatal rejection that you have experienced from him over and over again. You looked down at the floor, muttering something about finding Storm and hurriedly walked away. He had hurt you for centuries. Your mind, body, and soul yearned for him and yet his own chased another. He had to know at this point. He just wanted to tease you until you couldn’t take it. Unfortunately for you, you had always shown him tolerance. 

Your walk was cut short as you bumped into Storm, who informed you that you were gonna “spill the beans” the next day, leaving you to walk back to your office and get ready for Alex to get his check up. 

As you prepped the trays you needed for his appointment, the all too familiar voice of Alex filled the room.

“Hello doctor,” He said in a flirty tone, cheering you up slightly. 

“Hi Alex, sit down here” You patted the bench and started the procedure. It was just a normal check up. He talked to you about his brother and his upcoming mission. Saying how he will miss his hot doctor when he left for Europe. 

It made you chuckle as you placed the stethoscope on his inner elbow, focusing once again on the sound and patterns of his blood. He watched you intently as you nodded your head along as if some kind of melody was playing and he was producing it. Your eyes were closed and your eyebrows furrowed together before you relaxed and smiled up at him.

“You're all good. Beautiful blood” He thank you before placing a blow pop he kept in his pocket in his mouth and walked out of your office. As the door shut, you started to clean and pack away your personal belongings. Putting the last needle into the biohazard box, you moved to turn off the lights when Charles wheeled into your office.

“Hello y/n. I need to ask you a favor”

~~~~~

tag list: @captain039

[celandeline]

I had an idea for a Farleigh one shot where you’re kind of a “friends with benefits” type situation. You certainly aren’t “dating” but it’s very clear you’re together type thing. He ends up getting with someone else, you obviously aren’t happy, so you bring a different guy to a Halloween party at Saltburn after ignoring Farleigh for a bit. I’d love for you to write it if you’d want to!! I absolutely LOVE your writing!! 💕🫶🏻

anything for you baby <3

i did take some creative liberties, since Halloween is during the fall semester i set it at Oxford, but i hope you still like it!

Together-Together

For two months now, you’ve considered Farleigh ‘yours’, in a sense. 

It’s an unspoken ownership that goes two ways - you spend most of your time together after all, given that you’re in most of the same classes and are both members of Felix’s little circle. It’s only natural that you’ve grown to like him, underneath the bitchy persona he puts on for Felix’s entertainment - and, based on the fact that he holds your hand when he fucks you, you assume that he likes you too. You’re not together - you’ve never discussed being together - but at the same time, you are. 

So when you watch him press some guy dressed as a sexy Dracula up against the wall like he’s going to kiss him, you get a little mad. Rightfully so, in your opinion. 

“What the fuck.” You say, louder than you intend to. Next to you, Annabel turns away from the makeshift bar (two folding tables manned by some guys you recognize from the rowing team), and follows your line of sight, zeroing in on Farleigh and his guy on the other side of the common room. 

“What the fuck.” Annabel agrees with you, pulling you closer to her so that she doesn’t have to shout over the music. “I thought you guys were fucking?”

“We are.” You say, still watching Farleigh over her shoulder. It’s like watching a car wreck - you can’t look away as he leans down to whisper in his ear, a flirtatious grin on his face. You can’t hear what he says - of course not, the music is loud enough to shake the walls of the dorm - but your stomach sinks anyway. “I mean, I thought we were.”

“Then what the fuck is he doing?” Annabel sounds more pissed than you feel, which almost makes you laugh - until you watch that boy nip at Farleigh’s earlobe and another rush of anger shoots through you.

“I don’t know.” You say. It’s the first time - you think, at least - that this has happened since the first time you fucked. Technically, he’s not doing anything wrong, you’re decidedly not together, but it still feels like he’s cheating. He was the one who extended you an invite to this party, anyway - you picked out costumes together. Granted, they aren’t matching, but the principle still stands. 

Annabel scoffs, rolling her eyes as she sips at her drink. “He’s such a bitch sometimes.” She says. “I can’t understand why you hang out with him so much.”

Because you like him. The words dance on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t say them, too busy watching Farleigh mouth at the boy's neck, his arm that isn’t leaning up against the wall sliding around the guys waist. Bile rises in your throat. “I’ve gotta use the loo.”

You don’t hear what Annabel says as you pull away, pushing through the crowds of your peers until you reach the communal bathrooms and shoulder the door open, darting into the nearest stall and locking the door behind you. You sit down on the toilet seat, staring ahead at the inoffensive gray of the stall door, the image of Farleigh feeling up someone else replaying in your head. 

Fuck. 

You shouldn't feel as upset as you do. You’re not together. You just spend most of your day with him and hang out with all the same people and fuck on the regular. And sometimes he tells you that he loves you when he’s drunk. But you’re not together. So, technically, he can do whatever - whoever - he wants. 

And that means you can too, if you want. 

You don’t really want to - you’d thought, since Farleigh asked you to come to this party, you’d get drunk together and leave early to share a joint and fuck like you normally do - but obviously, he’s not an option anymore, at least for tonight. It’s whatever - if he’s going to fuck someone else, so will you. You don’t care. 

New resolve built, you rise from the toilet seat and walk out of the stall, fluffing your hair in the mirror before heading back into the fray of the common room. With new vigor, you dive into the crowd of dancing Oxford students, passing a sexy Marie Antoinette and a poor attempt at a fireman making out to get truly into the throng. With only the makeshift neon lights scattered about the common room as lighting, it’s hard to see anyone’s faces, so you don’t bother, grinning up at the first guy who saunters up to you.

“Hi.” You say, looking up at what you think is supposed to be Magic Mike. Or maybe one of the men in black gone sexy?

“Hey.” Your guy grins down at you. “Nice costume.”

You glance down at the half decent princess costume you’d gone out shopping with Farleigh for yesterday. “Thanks, you too.” You say. “Wanna dance?”

-

You wake up to the sound of someone banging on your dorm room door. 

The sharp pounding reverberates through your skull, and you groan, lifting your head off your pillow and forcing your eyes open. Your eyelashes, stuck together with last night's mascara, have to be pried apart with your fingers. You trip out of the sheets, and the guy from last night - Evan, you think his name was - grumbles in his sleep. Dressed only in one of Farleigh’s tee shirts he left here who knows when, you pull open the door.

“What the hell do you-” You start, only to have the anger die in your throat when you see exactly who is standing in front of you. Farleigh, looking like he also just rolled out of bed, brushes past you into your room, his eyes set on the guy sleeping in your bed. “Farleigh?”

Farleigh pays you no mind, ripping the sheet from Evan in one motion. Evan squawks, eyes shooting open to see Farleigh looking down at him. Evan just blinks up at him for a moment, before, “Who the hell are you-?”

At the same time, you round on Farleigh, yanking your bedsheets out of his grip. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hiss. “We were asleep-”

Farleigh’s gaze is still locked on Evan. “Get the fuck out.”

You laugh, mean and loud. “Oh, that’s rich.” You say. “You’ve got no fucking right, Start.”

Evan scrambles out of bed, gathering the few belongings he’d had with him when you’d tumbled into bed with him last night and dashing out the door, muttering, “Didn’t know you had a boyfriend…” as he passes you. Farleigh slams the door shut behind him, and for a moment the room is quiet. 

You toss your balled-up bedsheets back onto the mattress, and tip your chin up to look him in the eye, the image of him feeling up some guy replaying in your mind. “Well?”

“Well what?” He snaps back, tilting his head to the side. “Since when do you just bring random guys home?”

“Since when do you?” I turn it back around on him. “You’re a massive fucking hypocrite-”

He rolls his eyes, smiling in that way that tells you he’s really pissed off. “Maybe I just wanted some dick.”

“Maybe I did too.” You say. 

“Then why-” He starts, and then stops himself. “I thought that’s what I was for.”

“Well, you seemed like you were busy.” You snark. “What’s it matter anyway? It’s not like we’re together or anything, you’ve got no grounds to be jealous.”

“Neither do you.” He says, leaning down to get in your face. The smell of cigarettes is heavy on his breath as his eyes bore into yours. “It’s not like you to bring home some other guy, and Annabel told me you made yourself scarce after you guys saw me and Kieran. Sounds to me like blondie was a revenge fuck.” 

You have to stop yourself from bristling when he says the guy's name. Kieran. You’re not together. You have no right to be as possessive as your heart is telling you to be, but at the same time, he had no right to barge into your room and kick Evan out. 

“Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't.” You say, unwavering despite how close he is to you. “You still didn’t have any right to kick him out. We’re not together.”

You can see the wheels turning in his head as he bites into the side of his cheek. You’ve never seen him this angry, ever - not even at Felix. It’s a little vindicating, watching him get so worked up by something that was really his fault to begin with, and you have to stop yourself from grinning as he opens and closes his mouth. 

“Well.” He says. “Maybe we should be. Together.”

The words are sharp, and pierce through you one after another like bullets. “What, that’s how you’re going to ask?” You snap back. 

He rolls his eyes, his lips pressing into a thin line before he’s pulling you to him and kissing you like he’s hungry for it, all teeth and tongue. You pour yourself into him, grabbing at his shoulders and sweeping your tongue over any part of his mouth you can reach, your teeth finding purchase in his bottom lip. You bite down hard, and he groans, fingers digging into your hips. 

He pulls back, brow drawn. “Ow.”

“You are such a dick.” You say, tugging on his shirt until he pulls it off. You back him towards your bed, pulling your own shirt off and tossing it to the floor beside his. 

Farleigh drops onto your mattress, making himself comfortable amongst the pillows. “What else do you want me to say?” He asks. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, maybe!” You kick off your underwear, and pull the drawstring of his sweatpants loose so that he can kick them off. His boxers go with him, and you take your place on top of him, straddling him so that your hips slide together.

“Oh fuck - I’m sorry.” He says, eyelids dropping to half-mast as he watches you grind on him. “I didn’t think you would have cared-”

“Why wouldn’t I care?” You say, bringing a hand up to his face to tilt his head up, eyes narrowing at the hickey under his jaw that you didn’t leave. Still grinding, you dip your head into his neck, biting and sucking a line of marks. 

“Because - mm - we weren’t - ah - together.” He chokes out, hips canting up into yours as you bite harshly into the tender skin. 

“Just because we weren’t together doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have cared if you were fucking other people.” You say, sitting back on your heels to look down at him. “Obviously I cared.”

“I know that now.” He says, watching you rise up onto your knees, lining him up. His eyes find yours. “Did you let him hit without a condom?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course fucking not.” You say, sinking down on him in one smooth thrust. Even though you’re on the pill, you wouldn’t just let some dude hit raw - especially someone you’d just met. The way you trust Farleigh doesn’t extend to other men generally. “And don’t act like you didn’t storm in here all jealous too. You obviously cared if I was fucking someone else, why wouldn’t I have-?”

“Yes, okay, I was being stupid.” He says, panting as you begin to bounce, planting your hands on his chest for leverage. “I’m sorry.”

“And?” You prompt, watching his eyes flutter as you ride him. 

“And?” He whimpers, breathy and confused. 

“For waking me up…” You say, slowing down slightly. 

“And I’m sorry for waking you up, please just fuck me.” He whines, pushing his hips up to meet yours. With a grin, you resume your galloping pace, watching him pant and keen underneath you. It’s as good as it is every time - you know his body well enough to know that if you run your nails down his chest he’ll moan, and he knows you in the same way, so he grabs your hips to force you up and down his cock faster, and throws his head back against the pillows so you can lick a stripe up along the side, sucking the lobe of his ear into your mouth. 

He moans, loud and unabashed, and if this wasn’t a regular occurrence you would be embarrassed because there's no way your neighbors didn’t hear that. But, used to it as you are, you just roll your eyes, and slap your palm over his mouth, muffling his whining. “You are so loud.”

Whatever he says is swallowed up by your hand, but the look on his face sums it up for you. You laugh, and bring your other hand up to rest at the base of his throat. You don’t squeeze, but the simple feeling of the weight there is enough to have his eyes rolling up into the back of his head. 

Hands still covering his mouth and throat, your attention shifts to your own pleasure. You didn’t get to cum last night - it took Evan all of three thrusts before he was grunting and shuddering on top of you, and it made you miss Farleigh more than anything else. It makes the sweetness of knowing he was jealous too all the more potent as you're riding him like a prized stallion and he's looking like he’s about to ascend to the heavens with your hand over his mouth. It’s good. It’s always so good with him, even when you’re just hanging out - even when you’re just together in the same room. There’s not many people in the world you can say that honestly about, but Farleigh is one of them. 

The coil in your gut tightening, you lean back down to nip at the side of his neck, and whisper, “I love you.”

His responding groan is loud enough that your hand barely does anything to quiet it, and before you know it, Farleigh’s prying you away from his mouth and throat, pinning you to his chest and rolling so that he’s on top, never pulling out. Tucking his head into the crook of your neck, he resumes fucking into you, hips knocking against each other as he pants into your ear. 

“Mm, fuck, love you too.” He keens. “Love you so much I got - ah - scared. I’m so sorry about last night, please forgive me, please please-”

“Oh, fuck, yes I forgive you, I already did-” You gasp as he ruts against you. It’s delicious, the way your bodies slide together. There’s something about the way that his chest lays over yours that makes your heart swell, and the feeling of his curls tickling the side of your face is like a thousand butterfly kisses. With how keyed up you already are, it doesn’t take much. “Ah- Farleigh-!”

He lets out a long string of tiny moans as he follows you over the white hot edge, punctuating each thrust with a raspy grunt until he stills, slumping down against you. For a moment, the room is quiet. You wrap an arm around Farleigh’s shoulders, hugging him to you. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles into your neck.

“It’s cool.” You say. “We’re cool. I’m sorry too.”

“Cool.” He says. “Will you be my-?”

He doesn’t even get the full question out before you’re answering. “Yes. Duh.”

[solarmorrigan]

Movie Nights

For the @steddie-spooktober day 25 prompt: Frankenstein Friday Rated: T | Words: 1514 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, outsider POV, I know the movie is over 90 years old but I didn't actually watch it myself until a month ago, so just in case there's anyone else out there who hasn't seen it, Frankenstein (1931) spoilers Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Part 3 of the Good Neighbors series

Gladys can appreciate new things. Books, television, music – the little joys to be found in new discoveries are what make life worth living. She isn’t as set in her ways as some people her age can be, but she does have her favorites.

She loves her mysteries and her thrillers above all else; the likes of Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Peters, and Arthur Conan Doyle line her shelves. She’s dipped into the genre of spies and intrigue, digging into Ian Fleming and John Le Carré. She’s even been known to appreciate a good horror film now and then.

Emphasis on “good.”

“So this is what passes for horror these days?” Gladys asks as a young man on the TV screen is sucked down into his bed, only to be spat back out as an absolute geyser of blood.

Eddie chuckles, glancing up from the screen. “Not your cup of tea?”

Gladys leans on the back of the couch, resting her arms there. She’d only come over to the boys’ apartment to see if they had a spare baking dish she could borrow; they certainly hadn’t invited her in to critique their choice of entertainment. But all the same–

“I just think they should try a little harder to really scare people. These days, it’s all shock and gore. All they have to do is shower people in blood and call it a day,” Gladys says. “I remember a time when they put real effort in.”

“Back in your day?” Eddie teases, grinning at her.

Gladys tsks, cuffing him upside the head – not hard, barely more than a tap, but he still falls sideways onto the couch with a gasp, clutching his head, and then rolls right off and onto the floor with a thump. Gladys rolls her eyes, but doesn’t bother to hide her smile at his antics.

“Hey, will this work for–” Steve exits the kitchen, a glass baking dish in his hands, and stops as his attention is almost immediately diverted to Eddie. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Gladys attacked me,” Eddie replies.

“Oh. Good for her,” Steve decides, holding up the dish again. “Will this work for you?”

“That would be fine,” Gladys says, accepting it as Steve passes it over.

“She also thinks my movie is trash,” Eddie says brightly as he levers himself back up onto the couch.

“I did not say it was trash,” Gladys says. “At worst, I said it was cheap.”

“Okay, but that’s not better,” Eddie says.

“I’m not a huge fan, either,” Steve leans in to stage whisper to Gladys, “but it makes him happy.”

“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s a critic.” Eddie rolls his eyes, then leans back a bit so he can look up at Gladys. “What would you call a good horror movie, if not the genius of Wes Craven?”

Gladys purses her lips, thinking for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen the classics? Dracula, The Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

Eddie lets out a thoughtful little noise, shaking his head. “Can’t say I have.”

“Well, you ought to. You’ll see where it all began, then,” Gladys says.

“And I get the feeling you’d enjoy showing us,” Eddie says, wiggling his eyebrows up at Gladys.

“’Us’? Who’s ‘us’? When did I get roped into this?” Steve asks, and Eddie reaches out to take one of his hands.

“We’re a package deal, baby, everyone knows that,” Eddie says.

“No one around here but Gladys knows that,” Steve reminds him.

“Everyone important knows that,” Eddie amends. “Anyway, what do you say, Gladys? Feel like educating a couple of horror philistines such as ourselves?”

“Well,” Gladys says slowly, “I’m sure I could come up with something.”

This is how she ends up in her armchair the following Friday night, the boys both sitting on the loveseat, all watching as the audience is warned of the frightening nature of the upcoming film playing out on the television.

“Now, this wasn’t Universal’s first horror film, and it wasn’t even the first movie adaptation of Frankenstein,” Gladys says when the opening credits come on, “but it is a bit iconic. I thought you might get a kick out of it.”

“But is it scary?” Eddie teases.

“Well, I don’t know about scary, but maybe a bit shocking. Look at it this way:” Gladys says, “it was 1931. Graverobbing and murder might seem mundane to you, but we weren’t quite as desensitized to seeing it on the screen back then.”

Steve glances over at her. “Do you remember when this came out?”

“Oh, barely.” Gladys wiggles her hand back and forth in a so-so gesture. “I certainly didn’t go to see it in the theater, I was only six or seven at the time.”

“Still, that’s pretty cool,” Steve says, and Gladys favors him with a smile.

If they aren’t altogether horrified by the movie, the boys are at least engaged, keeping up a running commentary that has even Gladys laughing. (“He had that coming,” Steve says when the monster finally catches Frankenstein’s assistant. “Yep. Rest in pieces, Fritz,” Eddie adds.) However, as they reach the midway point, the father onscreen bidding his daughter to go play with her cat while he works, Steve shifts uneasily in his seat.

“Wait, they’re not going to do anything to the cat, are they?” he asks, cutting a worried glance at Gladys.

As if the thought hadn’t occurred to him until Steve voiced it, Eddie sits up straight in his own seat. “Gladys,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at the screen, “you’re not showing us a movie where they kill a cat, are you?”

One brow raised, Gladys regards the pair of them. “You’re worried about the cat, but not the child?”

Steve scoffs. “It’s 1931, they’re not gonna kill a kid,” he says, while Eddie nods in agreement.

Both brows raised now, Gladys only gives them a little “hm,” and turns back to the screen. With some suspicion, Eddie and Steve do the same, watching as the scene unfolds.

“Oh, shit,” Steve says, taken aback as the monster tosses the little girl into the lake.

“Damn. Guess we should’ve worried about the kid, after all,” Eddie says.

“You have to have some idea of how this movie ends,” Gladys says, shaking her head. “Did you really think they’d form an angry mob over a dead cat?”

“I would,” Eddie declares, then looks down at Steve, who at some point in the last half hour had ended up tucked into Eddie’s side (when, Gladys isn’t sure, but it’s sweet; it’s a pleasant feeling knowing how comfortable the two of them are here). “Steve, would you form an angry mob with me if someone killed our cat?”

“We don’t have a cat,” Steve says.

“That’s not the point,” Eddie insists, and Steve relents.

“I would come with you if only to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed,” he decides.

“I’ll take it,” Eddie says with a shrug.

The rest of the movie plays out on the screen – the forming of the mob, the confrontation with the monster, the burning windmill, and, at last, the peaceful conclusion.

“Wait,” Eddie says, brows furrowed as he watches the end credits play, “that’s it? That’s how it ends? A toast to the house of Frankenstein, the end?”

“Yes…” Gladys says slowly. “Why? How should it end?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about a little restitution for the guy whose daughter got murdered?” Eddie demands, shooting up out of his seat so quickly that Steve has no time to brace himself and falls sideways onto the loveseat with a little ‘oof.’ “How about a little accountability? I mean, seriously, this is just typical; some rich, entitled asshole plays around with things he can’t control, creates a problem he refuses to solve, and the poor end up being the ones to pay the price!”

“Now you’ve got him started,” Steve mutters to Gladys as he sits himself back up.

“Is there any way to get him to stop?” Gladys asks, though she’s a little fascinated with the theatrical way Eddie throws himself around the living room as he rants.

“Uh.” Steve glances over at Eddie and back away again, and there actually seems to be a little color rising in his cheeks. “Not, um…”

“Take him home first, if you’re planning to do something like that,” Gladys says primly, only to lose the fight to her laughter when Steve looks over at her, aghast.

“I wouldn’t–!” he protests indignantly, his face going redder.

“Are you guys even listening to me?” Eddie demands, turning back to face the pair of them.

Gladys declines to answer, asking instead, “Eddie, dear, how did you like the movie?”

“Oh. Aside from the ending, it was great.” Eddie drops back onto the loveseat, reaching out absently to tug Steve back over to his side. “What else ya got?”

“Well,” Gladys says, picking through the stack of tapes she’d managed to dig up at the video store. “If you like entitled rich people, let’s see how you feel about Dracula.”

[i-arch-my-backula]

Vampire Freak of California: The Lost Boys x reader

I kept this GN and I don't know how I feel about it persay. It's one of the longest things I've written probably ever, and I like the idea. I just don't know about the execution of it on my end. I also dedicate this to @k1nn1e-0n-ma1n who is my favorite vampire freak. I might make this into a series thing, perchance, if I ever feel like getting around to making another chapter for it.

Content includes: Swearing, readers relationship to the boys could be read as platonic or romantic, autism coded reader

Living in Santa Carla is pretty uneventful. Your mother died when you were young and your father wanted nothing to do with you, so you’ve been living with your grandpa since you were a child. Your aunt and cousins just moved in with you and your grandpa, trying to get settled in after your aunt’s divorce. So you’ve been showing them around, taking them places, hanging out. It’s a nice break from doing a bunch of outdoor work this summer, especially now that you’re home from college.

 But if you’re being honest, you don’t know too many people here. Sure you have your friends and stuff, but outside of them and your family you’re not too familiar with everyone else in town. But it’s not that big of a deal, there’s more people in the state of California than people in some countries, at least you think.

But something that might be holding you back from getting more friendships, or even a relationship is your interests. When you started to tease your hair and wear all black your grandpa didn’t fully understand it, but seeing other people like that out in town he recognized it as some kind of trend with young people. But even before that, since you were young, you’ve had an obsession with vampires. It started when you watched the 1931 Dracula movie with a friend, and from then on you were hooked. Now your room is basically dedicated to vampires. Countless VHS tapes, books, posters, cassettes, records, collectables, comic books, anything vampire related you liked that you could get your hands on, it was in your room.

Now you know vampires are fake. That’s what makes it fun. Exploring such dark topics in a safe way through fiction. Not to mention how a lot of vampires can be pretty hot. But you know they’re not real, and so does everyone else, even if your grandpa avoids the subject all together most of the time, if you ever bring up how they’re fictional.

Of course not everyone understood. Your aunt Lucy was polite enough about it, your cousin Michael teases you about it a little, and Sam always makes comments. But who cares? It makes you happy. Very happy, in fact you could talk about vampires for hours on end. But that’s usually reserved for your friends, who are pretty similar to you. But as the summer went on, Michael got some friends of his own, so did Sam. 

It’s a warm night in June. You’re sitting downstairs in the kitchen talking on the phone with your friend when you hear the front door open, then Michael starts to speak. You look out the kitchen doorway and find him talking to a guy with platinum blonde hair. You shrug it off as Michael talking with a friend of his. You can hear other people talking, but it’s probably just more of his friends. 

“But I’ve got this new kind of question about vampires and stuff.” You say, opening the fridge and taking out a soda bottle, popping off the cap and taking a sip of it. “So vampires can’t go out in the sun. But what if they lived in one of those places where the sun doesn’t rise for months at a time? Like one of those arctic places in the world? Theoretically they could go outside all the time during periods like that.” You hold the phone receiver to your ear while walking back to the spot you were sitting at before.

Michael and his friend glance your way before going back to speaking with each other. You shrug it off. People stare at you all the time, it’s no big deal. You’re not even wearing one of your ‘outrageous’ outfits today. ‘I think vampires do need to sleep, like how all living creatures need to sleep. But it could be different for them depending on how long the sun is out.’ Your friend says over the phone. You nod your head and sip your soda again. 

“Uh huh. That makes sense. But without the barrier of the sun, I feel like a vampire could safely pull an all nighter or something. Some kind of insomniac vampire.” You joke, both you and your friend chuckling. 

‘I’ve gotta go. My parents are taking us to visit our grandparents tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later.’ Your friend says. 

“Alright, peace out girl scout.” You say before hanging up the phone and sipping on your soda again. You leave the kitchen and pass by Michael who is still talking with his friend on the porch. Then you notice the other three guys hanging around, one of them looks at you. He’s the only one who isn’t a blonde, and he’s also not wearing a shirt. Something about him makes you pause for a moment. He doesn’t look too different from the other people you see around town, especially on the boardwalk.But the way he’s looking at you. It’s making something shift inside your body. “Is all you do talk about vampires?” Sam teases from his spot on the couch. His voice draws you out of that slight hypnotic state. You flip him off and walk up the stairs, making your way into your room. 

“People can be super into sports, or cars, or music, but apparently an interest in vampires is too far for some people.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Also I know you took one of my cassettes.” You look down at Sam from your spot on the stairs. “You better give it back before I put all your comics in the garbage disposal.” You joke, earning Sam flipping you off. You laugh and go up into your room, shutting the door behind you. 

That night as you slept you had the strangest dream. Being on some kind of beach next to a bonfire. Michael’s friend was there, staring at you like how he was before. You wanted to ask him questions but you couldn’t speak, something was stopping your voice. That’s all you could remember of the dream after you woke up. But some strange part of it that you couldn’t fully describe lingered in the back of your mind.

The next night you’re outside, listening to some music on your walkman and petting one of the barn cats you have. He’s a tuxedo cat you’ve had for a couple years now. You named him Mr. Murphy, after Peter Murphy from Bauhaus. He’s a really nice kitty. Sometimes when you don’t have anyone to talk to, you just talk to him. If he understood English he’d probably be the first cat to have encyclopedic knowledge on vampires. As you’re scratching behind his ears someone taps your shoulders from behind. You jump a little and turn around to see it’s Michael. You pause your music and take off your headphones. “Jesus Michael you scared me.” 

“Yeah well I didn’t mean to…Sorry. I’ve just got some friends coming over and I feel like it might be best that you stay inside.” You can’t tell what kind of a tone he’s using right now, but something tells you it’s not very good. 

“Michael I’m two years older than you, I can handle being around some teenage boys.” 

“They aren’t exactly teenage boys.” 

“Really? You’re hanging out with a bunch of grown men?” 

“You know that’s not what I mean.” He says, putting his hands on his hips and sighing. He looks away from you, down at Mr. Murphy before looking back up at you, although you can’t quite meet his gaze, or anyone’s for that matter. “Just be careful with them. They can get kind of rowdy and stuff.” 

“What do you mean by being careful?” 

“You know what I mean by that.” 

“No I don’t. I’m being serious Michael, I don't know what you mean. If these are the same friends you had over last night I doubt that anything bad is going to happen. They seemed more interested in catching a cold from not wearing a shirt outside than bothering me.” Before he can reply, some headlights pull up behind you. Turning around you see his friends from before coming up on motorbikes. You look back at Michael for a moment, huffing a breath from your nose. “You owe me.” You mumble to him before heading back inside, letting the screen door slam shut behind you. 

He’s got you all worked up now. Everyone is always treating you like you’re stupid. Well you’re not stupid. You’re different, sure. But you’re not stupid. You head into the kitchen and look around, trying to find something to eat, but only one thing comes to mind. What you call your ‘special food’. Something that no matter what, is always reliable and ‘safe’ for you to eat. So you get it ready and move to grab a dish for it when you see someone enter the kitchen. But it’s not Sam, like you’d expect. It’s one of Michael’s friends. Another blonde one. He’s wearing a dirty black blazer, and his hair is teased up into a big style, probably containing a whole can of hairspray in it. 

You look at each other for a while, just staring. You have no idea what to say, and maybe he doesn’t either. So you go back to what you were doing, getting a dish for your food. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” He asks with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest while looking at you. Your back is still to him while you start to eat your food. You can feel him watching you. But you don’t have the energy to force eye contact right now. 

“I thought you were here for Michael.” You say, grabbing a glass and filling it up with some tap water. 

“Yeah well he’s been pretty vague about you when I ask questions. So I thought I should try speaking to you myself.” He says, walking closer to you as you drink your water.

“Why are you asking questions about me?” You ask, looking over at him for a moment, finishing off your food and setting your dishes in the sink. 

“Am I not allowed to be curious about someone?” He asks, in what you think is a teasing tone. But you don’t want to laugh and find out he was being serious. 

“No I didn’t mean that. I was just wondering why you’re interested in me is all.” You shrug your shoulders and trace shapes with your finger on the counter top. 

“I heard you talking about vampires last night. I’m pretty into vampires myself.” He says, watching your finger as it moves across the counter top. “I’m Paul. You’re Y/N right?” He asks. You nod your head. 

“Yeah that’s my name.” You say, looking over at the kitchen doorway, hearing Michael talking with his other friends again. “And I’m pretty into vampires. I mean. Don’t even get me started, I'll talk for hours on end about them.” 

“How into them are you?” He asks, smiling wider while he raises an eyebrow at you. You start to smile on your own too, even if he doesn’t want to listen to you rant about vampires, he’s about to.

“Well it all started when I first watched the 1931 dracula movie with Bella Lugosi when I was around 13. Which led me down this sort of rabbit hole of vampire media and all this stuff. So I’ve been collecting VHS tapes, books, posters, records, cassettes, comic books, anything vampire related I liked and could get my hands on. So it’s been almost a decade since then and I’m still obsessed with vampires. I mean I wrote this paper on the history of mythology of vampires for an English class back in my junior year of high school. 

“I have all these little theories and questions I’ve loved to ask horror movie directors some time with how they interpret these vampire media things. But I think my favorite vampire movie I’ve ever seen is probably ‘Fright Night’ by Tom Holland, the same guy who made the Child's play movie. It’s a really good vampire movie with some interesting interpretations on vampire mythology. We’ve come a long way from the original poem about a vampire. 

“There’s a lot of different interpretations of vampire mythology. Some media say that they’re affected by crosses, garlic, holy water, etc. But some say that garlic and crosses don’t do anything. But it’s pretty consistent that you can kill a vampire with a stake to the heart, decapitation, or with sunlight. I think it’s interesting that with all this variation on vampire mythology that almost every interpretation of vampires have them being unable to go out in the sunlight. Oh! But a couple of years ago for my graduation gift and 18th birthday present my grandpa helped me build my own coffin. I keep it in my room and I really love it.

“It’s stained on the outside with this dark brown wood stain and on the inside is some memory foam and red velvet. Like in this song by this band called Bauhaus, they’re a really awesome band. But they made a song called ‘Bella Lugosi’s dead’ which is a really good song, I really like it. But it has a lot of vampire themes to it. I feel like a lot of bands I like have vampire themes to them.” You start to pick at your nails while speaking to Paul. You’re so caught up in talking about vampires that you don’t notice another one of Michael’s friends is standing in the kitchen doorway. 

“You have a coffin in your room?” He speaks up. You look over at him. He’s not the brunette from last night. But he’s not the Billy Idol look alike either. He’s dressed just as outrageously as the rest of them, with a jacket that’s more patches than actual jacket at this point. But you just nod your head and look back down at your nails while you pick at them. 

“Yeah. People think it’s weird but who cares? I mean, I’d rather be comfortable with death than spend my life chasing after something I’ll never get.” You say with a shrug. Paul and his friend exchange a glance, smiling to themselves. 

“Can we see it?” Paul asks, leaning down a bit to try and catch your eye. You look over at him, then at his friend in the doorway. You stand up straighter and lead them out of the kitchen. Michael is out in the yard now, speaking with the guy with the platinum blonde hair again. It seems like he only speaks to that guy when his friends are around. Paul and his friend with the crazy jacket are whispering words to each other behind you as you lead them up the stairs. 

“My room is a little cramped with how much stuff I have in here. I know I need to get rid of some of it, but I can’t really bring myself to do that.” You say, walking down the upstairs hallway. You open your bedroom door and lead in the two boys. They start to whistle and make quiet comments when they see just how many vampire related things you have. 

“Nice poster.” The one with the jacket says, gesturing towards your ‘Vamp’ poster. You smile and walk over to it, putting your finger on it.

“Oh this one I got from a movie theater. You know how they have those posters for movies that are about to come out or that they’re showing and stuff? Well I asked if they had a poster for Vamp and they gave it to me.” You start to smile widely again, being able to talk about vampires just gets your heart pumping. “It’s a pretty good movie. It’s about these fraternity pledges that need to get some strippers for a party and they unknowingly go to a strip club full of vampires. Grace Jones is in it and she does this dancing scene where she’s wearing body paint done by Keith Haring, who’s this really cool artist.” 

You notice Paul standing next to your coffin, a smile on his face as he opens it up. 

“You sleep in this thing?” He asks, looking over at you while chuckling. 

“Oh no, I don’t sleep in it. I mean sometimes I lay inside of it just for fun. Or I’ve taken pictures of myself inside it, and a friend of mine has a VHS camera, so she took some videos of me inside it, all dressed up like a vampire and stuff.” You say, running your fingers over the red velvet inside the coffin. You push your hand down on the memory foam on the base before you step inside it, crossing your arms over your chest in that cliche vampire way. 

“Not all vampires sleep in coffins. Some sleep in caves.” Paul’s friend says, his attention turned to your large collection of cassette and VHS tapes. You chuckle and open your mouth to reply when you notice someone in the doorway. It’s the brunette of Michael’s friend group. You didn’t even hear him come up. 

“I know. But I just wanted a coffin for the hell of it.” You say, looking away from him and back over to Paul, who’s still standing next to you. He notices your gaze and he chuckles as he sees his other friend in the doorway.

“How nice of you to join us Dwanye. We’ve got a real vampire enthusiast here with us. Don’t we Marko?” He asks with a chuckle, looking from the brunette to the blonde.

“I’ve never seen someone so dedicated to vampires.” Marko jokes, picking up a VHS tape before putting it back. “What would you do if you found out vampires were real?” He asks, looking back over at you. Now you can feel three pairs of eyes on you, all of them pretty much strangers. You quickly turn to your left and pick up a little Dracula action figure, pretending to want to change its pose. 

“Well vampires aren’t real. And unless some huge part of history and murders have been left out of the mainstream for the last however many centuries, and they are real…I don’t know…”

“You wouldn’t be into them if they were real?” Paul asks, walking closer to you. But your eyes stay fixed on your little action figures, moving over to adjust an Elvira one next to the Dracula.

“Well it’s one thing to be into the idea, or the fantasy of something, and another to actually want it to happen to you. I’m pretty sure the people who love to learn about war history don’t wish they were out in the trenches of WW1 or something.” You say with a little chuckle, wiping some dust off the action figure in your hand. “So maybe I don’t know what I’d do if vampires were real, because I know for a fact they aren’t.” As you set down the Elvira action figure Paul reaches his hand out and grabs a book from a spot on your shelf.

But you catch his fingernails. Something happened to his fingernails. It was only for a second. But you saw what they were like. How long they were. How sharp they were. Almost like they were claws. You look over at him and find his hands are normal. He’s just opening the book and flipping through the pages. God your mind is playing tricks on you. Maybe you need to get your vision checked. 

“Nothing is impossible.” Dwayne says, finally speaking up. You look over at him. He moved from his spot in the doorway, now standing next to your bed, looking at a Jim Morrison poster you have above your bed. You just crack a smile at that, not really sure how to respond. 

“Come on Michael. We can behave ourselves when we want to.” You hear a voice downstairs say. You walk over to your door as Paul puts the book back on the shelf. 

“It’s one thing to get involved with me but you need to leave my family out of this. It’s complicated enough dealing with all of this shit and I don’t need the people I love getting drawn in too.” Michael says. You walk down the hall, closer to the stairs, listening to them go on arguing, almost like a married couple. 

“Your family is fine Michael. You don’t have to worry about them.” You get to a place where you’re mostly hidden from Michael and his friend. They’re standing together in the living room. Michael’s friend is turned away from you, so you can’t see his face. But you can see Michael’s. And it makes your skin crawl a bit. 

“How do I know that you’re not going to get them involved in all of this stuff too? I swear if you even try to-” 

“Your family will be fine Michael.” His friend assures him, cutting him off. “You need to worry about yourself. I think it’s about time you became one of us, fully one of us. We can show you what we are, how to do what we do. But it needs to be soon. I don’t want to wait much longer.” His friend turns his head to the side, giving you a glimpse of his face. But before you could see anymore, the phone in your room starts to ring. You’re pulled out of the little world that conversation created and you walk back into your room, remembering the three strangers you just left inside. 

You pick up the receiver and turn your back to the three boys. “Hello?” 

‘I’ve been looking into all of these disappearances recently. A majority of them result in finding the bodies dead, murdered in brutal ways, usually the cause of death is blood loss, with bite marks all over the body, especially the neck.’ Your friend says. You chuckle a bit in shock, shaking your head while putting your free hand on your hip. 

“Yeah well the police say it’s some kind of animals attacking people. We live in California, remember? There’s a lot of weird critters floating around everywhere.” You say, hearing the boys behind you start to whisper among themselves again. “But now isn’t exactly the best time for me to have this conversation with you.” 

‘But I think the police are trying to cover something up. Or at least they’re not willing to accept what we’re dealing with. I mean, these bite marks are described as having only two or four puncture holes, the closest thing to these being some kind of wolf or coyote. Not to mention these people’s cars are found missing doors, and roofs. What kind of a wolf rips off the roof of a car to eat a human?’ You sigh and run your hand over your face. 

“I think we should talk about this tomorrow. Alright?” You say. Your friend starts to speak again but you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. 

“You expect me to control them like they’re children? Some kind of pet, Michael?” You hear Michael’s friend say, his voice is getting closer along with the footsteps. 

“I gotta go.” You hang up the phone quickly and turn around just in time to see Michael’s friend standing in your doorway, with Michael behind him. There’s a beat of silence between the six of you. While it only lasted for a couple seconds, it felt like an eternity of ringing silence deafening your ears.

“Y/N was just showing off their vampire collection. They’re really into them.” Paul says, smiling at the man in the doorway. He looks at you and you look at him. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He says, walking further into your room. He walks up to you and holds out his hand, smiling in a way that makes something inside you shift. “I’m David.” 

You take his hand and shake it, feeling the cool leather of his glove on your warm skin. 

“I’m Y/N. Your friends were just really interested in my vampire collection.” You explain, ignoring all the pairs of eyes on you. Choosing to focus your attention on your ‘Fright Night’ poster, trying to make it seem somewhat natural. David takes the time to look around your room, smiling to himself as he does so. 

“Quite the collection.” He says, walking away from you, and over to your coffin. “I bet you’re a bit of a die hard vampire fan.” You let out a chuckle and glance at Michael, who seems like he’s about to chip a tooth with how clenched his jaw is. “Well it was nice to meet you Y/N But I think it’s time that we go out for the night. Right Michael?” David asks, looking over at him in the doorway. Michael nods his head. 

“I’ll get my jacket.” He says, stepping aside to let David leave the room. 

“We’ll have to watch a movie together sometime.” Paul says on his way out, giving you a small wave. Marko and Dwayne follow after him and Michael just gives you a look that you can’t quite decipher before walking down the hall after his friends. He might be mad about you hanging out with them. But they’re some of the few people who aren’t tired of your vampire obsession. So who cares what he says? You’ll have to invite them into your room more often. 

[cyberstole]

𝒜 𝒟𝐎𝐖𝐑𝐘 𝒪𝐅 𝐵𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐛𝐲 𝐬.𝐭. 𝐠𝐢𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐧

a series of dialogue prompts from the 2021 dracula re-telling.  feel free to change pronouns as you see fit ! cw; gore, sexual themes, emotional abuse, & toxic relationships

❛ i never dreamed it would end like this. ❜ 

❛ there is no horror left in this world that can surprise me. ❜

❛ eventually, even your death becomes its own sort of inevitability. ❜

❛ i was so happy to be your marionette, at first. ❜

❛ am i sick to still think on you softly, even after all the blood and broken promises? ❜

❛ this is my last love letter to you, though some would call it a confession. ❜

❛ war is never valiant, only crude and hideous. ❜

❛ good. when life fails you, spite will not. ❜

❛ i will raise you out of the dirt and into queenship. and, i will give you your vengeance. ❜

❛ i wanted to break them, even more slowly and painfully than they had broken me, leave them bleeding out and begging for mercy. ❜

❛ water your mother’s flowers with their blood. ❜

❛ in this world, you are what i say you are, and i say you are a ghost. ❜

❛ bloodlust brings on a delirium that’s difficult to describe. ❜

❛ i have loved you too long to imagine you do anything without an ulterior motive. ❜

❛ i’ve never been looked at before. like that. ❜

❛ what is more lovely, after all, than a monster undone with want? ❜

❛ i was your little mouse, kept in a gilded cage until it was time for the cat to play. ❜

❛ i knew nothing except the strength of your arms and the scent of your hair. ❜

❛ your priest’s bedtime stories cannot account for us. ❜

❛ to know oneself, one’s limits and abilities, is its own power. ❜

❛ i was alone, and i was scared. i had no home left to speak of. ❜

❛ and god, how i adored you. it went beyond love, beyond devotion. ❜

❛ i wanted to dash myself against your rocks like a wave, to obliterate my old self and see what rose shining and new from the sea foam. ❜

❛ you turned a strong-minded girl into a pulsing wound of need. ❜

❛ what would you have me do, as ruler? ❜

❛ are you sure you aren’t a holy man come to lecture me on the sins of excess? ❜

❛ i was well-acquainted with violence by then. ❜

❛ but I had never outgrown my thirst for vengeance. ❜

❛ in my mind, i was god’s lovely angel of judgement, come to unsheathe the sword of divine wrath against those who truly deserved it. ❜

❛ you mocked my lofty aspirations, cynical as ever. ❜

❛ when will you give up this ridiculous crusade? ❜

❛ there was a darkness in your eyes and a tightness to your mouth i hadn’t noticed before—or perhaps hadn’t wanted to. ❜

❛ i would never leave you, my love. not for the entirety of my second life. ❜

❛ you seemed to me a fire burning in the woods. i was drawn in by your enticing, smoky darkness, a darkness that still stirs memories of safety, of autumn, of home. ❜

❛ it was like grasping at a flame. i never penetrated to the burning heart of you, only came away with empty, scorched fingers. ❜

❛ whenever we were apart, you left your essence caught in my hair, in my clothes. i scented the taste of it on the wind, I shivered and ached for it. ❜

❛ i was happy to spend countless lifetimes chasing the warmth coming off you, even though the haze was clouding my vision. ❜

❛ my piety was a sporadic, half-feral thing, sometimes lashing out at god with teeth bared, other times nuzzling against his loving providence like a kitten. ❜

❛ i felt my heart tumble down through my ribs and hit the ground. ❜

❛ it tortured me, how perfect you looked. i wanted to pull you behind the carriage and drain you dry. ❜

❛ i wanted to crawl between whatever was blossoming between the two of you and live there. ❜

❛ you’ve found cruelty to be an effective tool. ❜

❛ do you want her for your own? ❜

❛ ours is a solitary existence. it would be good for you to have a friend. ❜

❛ it’s as easy as breathing. one foot and then the other. and don’t overthink it. ❜

❛ you must never overthink any good and pleasurable thing. ❜

❛ you must sit with me tonight at dinner. i must have you close. i want us to be the best of friends. ❜

❛ i think i shall never marry, my lord. i will simply take lovers and never let any man shackle me with wedding vows. ❜

❛ am i to be bidden to my own bed like a dog invited to beg at the master’s table? ❜

❛ desire makes idiots of all of us. but you already knew that part, didn’t you? ❜

❛ there was an uncontrollable fire in you that was hard to look away from, much less resist. ❜

❛ all vampires find some way to stave off the monotony of an endless life, with hedonism or asceticism or a rotating door of lovers. ❜

❛ i’m talking about us, you and i. let’s be honest with each other, for once. ❜

❛ love was no girlhood game. it was an iron yoke, forged in fire and heavy to wear. ❜

❛ laying with you made me feel so vibrantly alive. it was almost enough to make me forget that i was already dead. ❜

❛ this is about your obsession with justice, isn’t it? ❜

❛ i was suspicious, and even more dangerously, i was curious. ❜

❛ i was the love that started it all, wasn’t i? ❜

❛ it has been a long time since i have felt clean. ❜

❛ like christ, i had become intimately acquainted with violence and the sins of the world, but i had not come away unblemished. ❜

❛ but it was not god who spoke.it was you. ❜

❛ you could have kissed me or slit my throat and either would have made as much sense. ❜

❛ i don’t know what I had been thinking, supposing i was strong enough to leave. ❜

❛ you made it into an art form, this quiet sort of violence. ❜

❛ i want to live. but i want to live in the world, not on the outskirts of it. ❜

❛ love is violence, my darling, it is a thunderstorm that tears apart your world. ❜

❛ love makes monsters of us, [ name ] and not everyone is cut out for monstrosity. ❜

❛ [ name], our sunlight, our destroyer. my prince cast in marble and gold. ❜

❛ he was as inevitable as a revolution, and heralded in just as much violence. ❜

❛ potential. you always loved that word. you were drawn to potential like a shark to blood. ❜

❛ look around you. what sort of life is this? ❜

❛ i craved you like maidens crave the grave, the way death burns for human touch: inconsolably, unrelentingly, aching for the annihilation in your kiss. ❜

❛ i still wanted to believe I was living in a fairy tale, that i laid down every night with a prince instead of a wolf. ❜

❛ before your time dear, just some dreadful victorians. ❜

❛ it took every ounce of self-control i had not to pin him down and tear out his throat. ❜

❛ the world has no place for us, we are wanderers by nature, lions among lambs. ❜

❛ we cannot exist only for each other. ❜

❛ i had never allowed myself to want this because i assumed it wasn’t a possibility. ❜

❛ i love you. look at me, [ name ], my jewel, my wife. i love you. don’t do this. ❜

❛ i was tired of waiting expectantly at your tomb every night for you to rise and bring light into my world once again. ❜

❛ i made you into my private christ, supplicated with my own dark devotions. nothing existed beyond the range of your exacting gaze, not even me. ❜

❛ i apologize if you were expecting contrition, my lord. i don’t have any to muster. ❜

❛ here's your demon, do what you will with him. ❜

❛ i think, someday, i would like to fall in love again. ❜

[genacity]

DAY THREE. DRACULA

ft. armin arlert — shingeki no kyojin (進撃の巨人)

as a vampire and a parent, it’s hard to find a babysitter that’ll stay up all night with your nocturnal little one while you’re at work. luckily for you, armin is here to get the job done.

ruling. nsfw — mature content

content warnings. dom! vampire! parent! reader, sub! babysitter! armin, blood kink, slight pain kink, biting, handjob, vampiric age gap? but normal human age gap (reader is hypothetically mid 20s, armin early 20s), plot before porn, “mx.” title is used to refer to reader but can be interpreted as “mr.”, “ms.”, or “mrs.”

an. hi all! sorry this came out a day late! again, lots of tests yesterday and today lol. c/n stands for child’s name, pls ignore the picture on the right. i couldn’t find one i liked. will be replacing later. enjoy!

kinktober 2023 masterlist

“thank you so much for coming again on such short notice, armin.” you thanked the young man as he was ready to leave your house.

“it was no problem, mx. l/n,” armin dismissed your thanks with a soft smile. “i’m always happy to stay late if it means you’re able to work without worrying about your little one.”

armin arlert, your babysitter; a sweet thing. always willing to come in during unearthy hours of the night to look after your baby. at first, you thought your little bat could handle themselves home alone, but after you found them playing with worms in the bathtub at 5:17 in the morning, you found it best to find a babysitter.

at first, it was hopeless. finding a sitter that would tend to your vampiric needs; to come in at twelve in the morning and stay until four was a nightmare. until you got a message from sweet armin; offering to stay over as long as he was paid well.

and he was — how could you decline? a pretty young face offering to watch your child for just a bit extra? a steal. he was your last hope, and good thing he was good at his job, too. so, he became your regular sitter.

“was c/n any trouble?” you hummed, hanging your coat onto the hook and watching as armin shook his head. “not at all. they were the sweetest, as always.”

“good to hear.” you nodded and turned to armin. “i’m so sorry i kept you here past your promised hours. is there any way i can make it up to you?”

armin shook his head almost immediately at your question. “oh, no! please, it was only an hour,” he dismissed. “it was no trouble at all. c/n was asleep for the majority, so you really don’t have to pay me back.”

“nonsense.” you said as you took a step towards armin. “i insist. i held you up longer than you were in for. allow me to pay you back, my treat.”

armin’s cheeks went a pale pink as he flashed his usual little smile. “well, if you insist.” he laughed nervously, eyes squinting as he giggled and oh, it made your stomach churn.

you noticed that today armin had a book with him. with interest, you motioned to it. it had a black hard cover and silver lettering along the spine. “what’re you reading?”

armin raised his eyebrows and held up his book. “oh, this?” he looked at the cover, then at you. “it’s a new horror romance novel i’ve picked up.”

you hummed attentively. armin was always one to bring a book over while he watched c/n; it was no uncommon occurrence. “what’s it about?”

he seemed to think about it before answering. “well, it’s about a vampire and his long lost reincarnated love.”

you felt your veins run cold. not like they hadn’t been for thousands of years prior, but just then especially had you really felt the shiver. “vampires, you say?” you swallowed, showing as much interest as you could.

“yes, vampires.” he said. “i’m really enjoying the fantasy elements. some of the scenes even make me curious as to what they would feel like for myself.”

“really?” you laughed coolly, walking over to peer down at the book cover for yourself. the silver-print title flickered in the beaming remnants of the moonlight. “which scenes in particular?”

armin paused. “well,” and began again. “at the beginning of the book, the main character goes out to a bar and drinks the blood of a woman. the author describes it as ‘a burning but pleasurable sensation’.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle. pleasurable, is that how humans described your bite nowadays? back when you were alive people were too busy screaming to notice how nice it felt if they were being bit.

“hey, then for your payment tonight, maybe i can help you out.” you blurted out, and suddenly you found yourself too deep in to turn back. armin had already turned to you with a raised brow as you laughed awkwardly.

it was when your lips were parted as you chuckled that his eyes flickered to the sharp peaks of your teeth that glinted so sweetly; the ones that left his eyes blown wide as all of the pieces clicked in his head.

the reason you always worked during the night, the reason why your skin was bone cold all of the times you accidentally bumped into him or patted his hand with thanks before he left after babysitting. you were a vampire. a vampire offering to drink his blood.

he should be scared. he should be running, screaming for help or scrambling to check if that stake and garlic thing was true. this was an undead creature offering to prey upon him. but he didn’t do anything rash. not before dropping his book and grabbing your arms, pulling you forward on top of him.

“armin—” but he was already grabbing you, pulling you on top of him as he staggered back onto the couch. “please,” he breathed as you stumbled forward and towered over the human boy. “i want to know what it feels like.”

your breath hitched in your throat. it felt like you could hear everything. the overlapped pounding of your heartbeats that hammered in your ears; the rushing of blood in his veins and every thick swallow he took. your eyes trailed slowly down his body, his chest rising and falling before you realized what was truly happening.

“please, mx. l/n.” armin begged again. “i want to know if it feels as good as they say it does.”

he watched as your expression softened. “are you sure, armin? i would hate to hurt you.” armin nodded eagerly and gulped. “yes. i’m sure.”

you looked down at his neck. you assumed that’s where he wanted you to bite; it was where vampires in media always aimed. quickly you breathed in and out, looking up at armin for one last motion of confirmation before you continued.

he nodded, as if reading your mind; pulling you further into him with pleading eyes. “it’s okay, mx. l/n. please. i want this. do whatever you want. anything.”

armin’s voice left your head pounding. thoughts spinning round your brain like a racetrack, not once stopping to think logically before you had pulled the collar of his shirt down to sink your sharp fangs deep into the base of his neck.

he let out a loud squeal, hands flying to grab onto your shoulders as his hips bucked up at the sudden pain. your fangs piercing through his skin, locking in deep just before a major vein. your lips closed in around the wound and began to suck harshly as he writhed beneath you.

“mx — oh, ah! it — it hurts, oh god!” armin moaned out, panting as he felt your hands begin to grab at his buckle, he was much too focused on the burning, flourishing madness that spread through his skin. it hurt so badly, sending adrenaline shocks through him that left his body jerking and grabbing onto you. it left his skin red, flushed, and burning to the touch as he moaned again.

there was something about the burning sensation that left him impossibly aroused — the relief of your bloodless lips soothing the everlasting pain, your freezing skin that fought the burn as you held him down. like a boiling hot aphrodisiac, it turned his brain inside out and back again.

your hands pushed his pants down and quickly pulled out his weeping cock. you began to stroke it slowly in pace with your sucks; drawn out enough to make armin cry out and claw at your back. “ohnn, please, more!” armin gasped through a choked whimper, thrusting up into your hand sloppily.

his movements grew messy and irregular. you feared you were drinking too much for armin’s own good — but the metallic taste of him invading your lips and mouth was enough to keep you feeding for a few more moments before retracting your fangs to lick the leaking piercing in his neck as your hand sped up around his cock.

“ah! ah, mx. l/n — i’m gonna — please, let me cum!” the blonde whimpered out weakly once he felt you begin to pull away.

as your fangs drew back from his wound, armin let out a series of sloppy whimpers and moans before bucking up and spilling ropes of cum all over your hand and his stomach; shirt riding up his abdomen from the heat of the moment. armin’s hips slowed their messy pace before he fell limp against the couch. his chest rose and fell and his eyes went in and out of focus.

you looked down at the sight beneath you. never in the thousands of years you had been alive had something that exhilarating happened to you.

and as you began to help him up, cooing to him softly about how good he had done and how you were going to glean him up, you could only hope that something like this would happen again.

[differentpostrebel]

Queen of the Night

A/N: Happy Halloween Besties! I made this today because I always wanted to do a halloween one shot and I have to say… its giving part 2, but we got Vampire Sanji ;). And we also have a little heavy action in this also. I ain't gonna like Y/N, I would have folded too, cause Sanji!” There is also a movie reference if you get it, feel free to let me know, and you wont believe what the night has in store. I hope you guys enjoy and Happy Halloween!” 

Word Count: 8.5K

Sanji x y/n, Platonic frienship with Usopp.

CW: Smut, teasing, MINORS DNI… 

You were walking down the street with your friend Usopp on Halloween night, already looking forward to enjoying a nice glass of wine back home. "For the last time, Usopp, there is no such thing as Dracula or ghost ships," you said, trying to understand where he got these outlandish ideas.

"Easy for you to say!" Usopp shot back, clutching a cross in one hand and a Bible in the other. His eyes darted around suspiciously, as though expecting a vampire or specter to leap out from the shadows at any moment.

"You already look like a priest, Usopp," you teased, laughing at how ridiculous he appeared. "Can’t you just give it a rest?"

Usopp shook his head solemnly, glancing nervously around the dimly lit street. "You laugh now, but when Dracula swoops down and tries to make you his midnight snack, you’ll wish you had my holy protection." He then reached into his pocket and dramatically pulled out a garlic necklace, draping it around his neck with all the seriousness he could muster.

"Usopp, really?" you said, rolling your eyes as he straightened the necklace like it was a badge of honor. You continued down the street together, the chill of Halloween night in the air. But suddenly, Sanji popped out from behind a corner, causing Usopp to shriek, "Ahh!" as he clutched his Bible to his chest.

Sanji burst out laughing as he lit a cigarette, casually blowing out a stream of smoke. He wore a white dress shirt and black slacks, looking effortlessly charming. "Why would you do that?" you asked, laughing with Sanji as Usopp grumbled under his breath.

"Sorry, Usopp," Sanji chuckled. "So, are you guys coming to my Halloween party tonight?"

"You bet," you answered, elbowing Usopp, who had already started backing away.

"Nope! I can’t make it! I have the I-can't-go-to-parties-because-it’s-Halloween disease! It’s highly contagious!" Usopp declared, holding up his garlic necklace like a shield.

"We’ll be there," you assured Sanji, glancing over at Usopp with a grin. Sanji’s gaze lingered on you as he gave a charming smirk.

"Good. Also, Y/N, you’re looking rather cute tonight," he said, giving you a slow once-over. "Can’t wait to see what costume you’ll wear."

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as Usopp muttered about curses and spooky omens, while Sanji grinned, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you. "Let’s go, Usopp. We’ve got to plan what you’re wearing to Sanji’s party," you said, dragging him along as he mumbled excuses under his breath.

Back at your place, you and Usopp settled in with apple slices dipped in caramel, snacking as you brainstormed costume ideas. "So," you began, “should I go as a sexy witch or a bunny?”

Usopp nearly choked on his caramel. "Why don’t you dress like a vampire?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow as he chewed thoughtfully.

"That’s a great idea!" you exclaimed, heading to your closet and pulling out a red and black corset with lace off-shoulder sleeves, a black mini skirt, and black heels. You held the outfit up, imagining the perfect finishing touch—a bold red lip and maybe even a pair of fangs.

But Usopp’s face turned pale. "You seriously can’t go dressed as a vampire, Y/N! What if Dracula sees you and decides he wants you as his next victim... or bride!" he stammered, clutching his garlic necklace as if it were his last line of defense.

You laughed, patting Usopp on the back. "Don’t worry, Usopp. I think I’ll be safe. Besides," you teased, “with you by my side, I’ll have all the holy protection I need!”

An idea suddenly popped into your head. "Ohh, I have the perfect costume for you! You can go as Van Helsing!" you said, cheering with excitement.

Usopp gave you a deadpan look. "And why would I do that? I’m not going!” He stuffed another caramel-dipped apple slice into his mouth, looking thoroughly unbothered.

"Come on, Usopp, for me?” You pouted, trying to give him your best pleading look.

He crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Nope! I’m staying right here where it’s safe."

"Ugh, fine!" you sighed, though a playful smile tugged at your lips. "But if something goes screwy, I will haunt you," you said, pointing a teasing finger at Usopp.

You headed to the bathroom, excitement bubbling as you slipped out of your casual clothes and started putting on your new Halloween costume. Carefully, you tied the red-and-black corset tight around your waist, admiring how it accentuated your figure. The lace off-shoulder sleeves gave it a dark, elegant touch, and the mini skirt added just the right amount of mystery to your look. Once dressed, you took a final glance in the mirror, pleased with the transformation.

Opening the door, you stepped out with a sly grin, and Usopp practically choked on his apple slice. His eyes widened as he took in your vampiric look, and his mouth hung open.

"You better be careful, Y/N, or it won’t be Dracula coming after you," he muttered, trying to compose himself as he gulped down his food.

Laughing, you grabbed your makeup bag and began adding the finishing touches. A couple of small red dots on your neck, accented with a touch of purple to make them look like fresh bite marks, added to the undead allure. With a little fake blood, you perfected the look, letting a thin red trail drip from the corner of your mouth for a striking, sinister effect. You even dabbed some on your lower lip to give it a freshly-fed look.

Usopp’s eyes grew even wider. "Are you sure you’re not part vampire?" he muttered, eyeing you warily, holding his cross up just in case.

You struck a playful, dramatic pose. "Don’t worry, Usopp, I’m here for fun... not blood." You gave him a sly grin and added, "Are you sure you don’t want to come?"

"Nope," Usopp replied, though he was already pulling a wide-brimmed black hat over his head, finishing off his reluctant Van Helsing look. "But I’ll be on the lookout for anything fishy," he muttered, adjusting his garlic necklace with a slight shiver.

You smirked, noticing his transformation. "I thought you said you weren’t dressing up?"

"I said I wasn’t going, but that doesn’t mean I’m not prepared to run if Dracula shows up," he retorted, the hat dipping low over his eyes as he gripped a wooden cross tightly.

"Fair enough," you said with a chuckle, grabbing his arm. "Now, let’s go!" You dragged Usopp out the door, ignoring his last attempts to wriggle free.

After a few minutes of walking, you both stopped in front of a grand, mansion-like castle. The place looked straight out of a gothic horror story, with towering spires and faint fog circling its grounds. A shiver of excitement—or maybe a little fear—ran through you as you took it all in.

"Are you sure this is the address, Y/N?" Usopp asked, his eyes widening as a flock of bats suddenly darted out of the shadows, fluttering above your heads before vanishing into the night.

"Well... Sanji did say this was the place," you replied, feeling a touch of uncertainty yourself. "Maybe it’s just—"

Before you could finish, the enormous double doors of the mansion slowly creaked open, the sound echoing in the quiet night. A warm glow spilled out from inside, revealing a grand staircase beyond the threshold, lined with flickering candles.

You glanced at Usopp, whose face had gone pale as he tightened his grip on his cross. "Alright," he whispered, taking a deep breath. "Let’s just get in, say hi, and get out before anything... supernatural happens."

Grinning, you tugged him along. "Come on, Van Helsing, where’s your Halloween spirit?"

As you approached the massive front door, you rang the doorbell, and the howl of a werewolf echoed from hidden speakers, making Usopp jump.

"There! He’s not here. Let’s go!" Usopp yelped, starting to backpedal.

But before he could escape, the door creaked open, and out stepped Sanji, holding a red cup in one hand and a cigarette dangling from his lips. His gaze met yours, a smirk spreading across his face as he took in your outfit. Sanji had gone for a casual but striking look: a crisp white dress shirt with the top buttons undone, a loose tie draped around his neck, black slacks, and polished dress shoes. He looked effortlessly suave, as always, and his eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Leaving so soon?" he drawled, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

You felt a slight blush creep up as he eyed your costume approvingly. "Not a chance," you replied, nudging Usopp forward, despite his nervous mumbling.

Sanji’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer. "Well, well... not only did you dress up, but you brought a bodyguard," he chuckled, glancing at Usopp, who clutched his cross a little tighter.

"Van Helsing, actually," Usopp corrected with a gulp. "I’m just... here to make sure Dracula doesn’t pull any funny business."

Sanji laughed, blowing a stream of smoke. "Don’t worry, Dracula’s already had a few drinks," he winked, "and I’m sure he’d have a hard time catching up to someone as gorgeous as you, Y/N." 

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Funny. What are you supposed to be?"

Sanji took a dramatic puff from his cigarette, tilting his head with a roguish grin. "Me? I’m a devilishly handsome party host," he replied with a wink, giving a small, playful spin to show off his outfit. "Or maybe I’m just a lost soul looking for a good time."

Usopp snorted beside you, finally loosening up a bit. "Lost soul, huh? Well, good luck finding your way back with that sense of direction."

Sanji gave Usopp a half-hearted glare but couldn't suppress his smile. "Careful, Van Helsing, or I might let Dracula sneak up on you tonight." He turned his gaze back to you, his eyes flickering with mischief. "But more importantly... what are you supposed to be, Y/N? A vampire queen who’s here to steal hearts?"

You grinned, showing off the fake fangs you'd slipped on. "Close enough. Think of me as a vampire with... a taste for a good party," you teased, leaning into the role.

Sanji let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. "Then allow me to be your humble servant for the night, Miss Vampire," he said, extending an arm gallantly. "Shall we?"

You chuckled, taking Sanji's arm as he led you and Usopp inside. Usopp, looking warily at every shadow and decoration, muttered under his breath, "If I see one coffin, I’m out."

"Would you relax?" you whispered-yelled, trying to stifle your laughter.

As you began to walk down the dimly lit hallways, you couldn’t help but admire the gothic style of the mansion. The outdated furniture, adorned with intricate carvings and rich, dark fabrics, gave the place an eerie yet enchanting vibe. "Nice decorations," you remarked, genuinely in awe.

"Thanks! I've collected a few vintage pieces over the years," Sanji replied, his pride evident as he continued to guide you through the labyrinth of rooms.

Suddenly, Usopp halted in his tracks, his eyes wide as he stared at a particularly large painting hanging on the wall. "Y/N! Did you see that?!" he yelled, his voice rising in panic.

You turned to him, eyebrow raised. "Usopp, if you're talking about the furniture, yes, I did see it."

"No, not the furniture!" he exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the painting. "That one winked at me!"

You and Sanji exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. "Usopp, it’s just a painting! It can’t wink," you said, trying to contain your amusement.

Sanji leaned in closer, a teasing glint in his eye. "Maybe the painting's just excited to see you. It knows you’re a vampire hunter now!"

Usopp crossed his arms, huffing in indignation. "You’re both just going to laugh it off? What if that painting is a portal to the underworld or something?"

"Then we’ll have to fight our way out," you replied, nudging him playfully. "But seriously, let’s keep going. I want to check out what else is here."

With a reluctant nod, Usopp followed, though you could tell he was still on high alert. As you continued deeper into the mansion, the sounds of laughter and music grew louder, and you could see more guests in various costumes mingling and enjoying themselves.

"Welcome to the party!" Sanji announced as you entered a grand room decorated for the occasion. Some guests wore elaborate masks, adding an air of mystery to the festivities.

"I didn't know this was a masquerade party!" you exclaimed, glancing around in surprise.

Sanji handed each of you a red cup filled with a mysterious liquid. "Here you go! Try this!"

Usopp took a tentative sip and immediately grimaced. "Ugh, what is this?" he said, scrunching his face in disgust.

"That is a family secret, but it’s blood punch," Sanji replied with a playful wink directed at Usopp.

"Bl… bl… blood punch?!" Usopp stammered, looking horrified.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, suppressing a laugh at Usopp's reaction. "It's just a Halloween drink, Usopp. Don’t be such a scaredy-cat!"

With a smirk, you took a sip of your own cup. The flavor was surprisingly delicious, a sweet mix with just a hint of tartness. As you savored it, you noticed Sanji watching you intently, a look of hunger in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.

"What do you think?" he asked, leaning in slightly closer, his gaze locked onto yours.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, realizing how close he was. "It's good! I mean, it’s a little tangy, but I like it!" you managed to say, trying to keep your composure.

Sanji’s smile widened, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the party faded into the background. "I knew you would," he replied softly, a hint of mischief in his tone. "Maybe you’ll even enjoy it enough to want seconds."

Usopp, still recoiling from the drink, interrupted with a nervous laugh. "Hey, Y/N! Let’s check this out!" He pointed toward a dimly lit hallway, dragging you along with him. For a split second, you noticed Sanji’s expression darken, almost like a growl escaping him, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Something feels a bit off," Usopp muttered as you walked.

"What makes you say that?" you replied, taking another sip from your red cup, savoring the sweetness.

"Well, for starters, some of the guests are wearing masks!" he exclaimed, glancing around with wide eyes.

"That’s part of their costume, Usopp!" you reassured him, making your way back to the punch bowl for another drink.

"Y/N! What if it’s real human blood in there?" he blurted, a look of genuine fear on his face.

"It would have a metallic taste, wouldn’t it?" you teased, taking another sip as you grinned at him.

"Fine! I’m going to look around to see if there’s any funny business!" Usopp declared, stomping off to investigate.

"I give him a good five minutes before he comes back," you chuckled, shaking your head.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you slowly wandered toward the grand staircase, the ornate banister catching your eye. As you ascended, you marveled at how lavishly Sanji had decorated the place. Man, Sanji went all out with the decorations and this castle, you thought, admiring the gothic splendor surrounding you.

As you continued to walk, a slight shiver ran down your spine, causing you to turn around instinctively. "What was that?" you murmured to yourself. Turning back, you collided with a hard chest, causing some of your drink to spill onto him.

"Oh my, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t…" you began, your eyes widening as you looked up.

"That’s quite alright, no need to worry," came Sanji's familiar voice, smooth as silk. He gently pulled you up, his hands warm against your skin.

"I'm really sorry about your shirt," you said, flustered as you attempted to wipe the red stain, only making it worse.

"Why don’t we go wash up?" Sanji suggested, his gaze steady on yours as he pulled you toward a small bathroom just off the hallway.

Inside, the atmosphere shifted, the air thick with an unspoken tension. Sanji removed his shirt, and you couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles tensed, the definition in his arms and chest accentuated by the dim light. You felt your cheeks warm as you watched him.

“Just a little more,” he murmured to himself, focusing on the stain as water splashed against his skin, glistening in the soft light. He turned back to you, a smirk playing on his lips, which sent your heart racing.

With your back hitting the door, you were trapped in a moment where the world outside faded away. Sanji stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, the scent of him intoxicating. "You know, Y/N," he said, his voice low and husky, "I always thought you’d make the perfect vampiress—elegant, alluring…"

You swallowed hard, feeling the pull of his gaze. “I’m just a vampire for Halloween,” you managed to say, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Ah, but a stunning one at that,” he replied, stepping even closer. The playful sparkle in his eye was now replaced with something deeper, more alluring. “You should be careful, though. A lovely creature like you might attract the wrong kind of attention.”

You could feel the heat radiating off him, the electricity in the air thickening. “And what kind of attention would that be?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, daring to hold his gaze.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. “The kind that could leave you wanting more,” he teased, a seductive smile curving his lips as he inched closer, the distance between you practically nonexistent. In a sudden, unexpected movement, Sanji lifted you effortlessly, his strength almost unhuman, and placed you on the edge of the bathroom sink.

“Sanji!” you gasped, a mix of surprise and exhilaration coursing through you as he blocked you in with his hands on either side, trapping you in his tantalizing proximity. He began to pepper kisses along your neck, each one sending shivers of pleasure through you. You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation, your body responding to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

“Just one bite… and I promise, you won’t feel pain at all,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, igniting a fire deep within you. The combination of desire and pleasure began to build like a slow-burning flame, threatening to engulf you entirely.

Suddenly, a loud crashing noise echoed from outside, jolting you back to reality. “What was that?!” you exclaimed, scrambling to get off the sink. “We need to check it out!”

“Stupid fool,” Sanji murmured, his voice a low growl as he furrowed his brows, clearly annoyed by the interruption. But before you could respond, the sound of your name broke through the tension.

“Y/N!” Usopp yelled from outside the door, urgency lacing his voice. You quickly opened the door, finding him looking more frantic than usual.

“Usopp! What’s going on?” you asked, concern creeping into your voice.

“There’s something in the basement!” he blurted out, his eyes wide with fear.

“Basement? What do you mean?” you asked in confusion, but he didn’t wait for an answer.

“No time to explain! Come here!” he insisted, grabbing your arm and dragging you down the dimly lit stairs.

“Usopp, wait a minute! I can only run down the stairs in heels for so much!” you protested, trying to keep your balance as you navigated the eerie staircase.

“See!” Usopp exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the bottom of the stairs. You followed his gaze, and your heart dropped. There, standing ominously in the dim light, were four coffins lined up against the wall. One bore the name Nami, another Robin, the third was empty, and the last—open and gaping—read Dracula.

“There’s no way…” you stammered, stepping back in disbelief, your eyes wide with horror.

Just then, Sanji appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a deep frown etched across his face. “What are you two doing down here?” he demanded, his tone sharper than usual.

“Sanji, we—” you started, but Usopp was already dragging you back up the stairs.

“Go, go, go!” Usopp urged, his grip on your arm tight as he pulled you toward the exit. You could hear Sanji's footsteps behind you, but you dared not look back, the urgency of the situation propelling you forward.

Together, all three of you managed to escape the basement, slamming the door shut behind you just in time. You took a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you found yourselves back in the chaotic atmosphere of the party.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the noise, clapping slowly, drawing everyone's attention. “Bravo… I have to say, I wouldn’t have thought the man dressed like Van Helsing would figure out where my quarters were,” Sanji said with a smirk, the confident glint in his eyes sending a chill down your spine.

“Sanji…” you whispered, confusion and dread swirling within you.

“What do you want, foul beast?!” Usopp shouted defiantly, brandishing a cross as if it would do anything against the handsome monster before you.

Sanji merely laughed, the sound echoing through the room as he casually lit the cross on fire with a flick of his wrist, causing Usopp to drop it in shock. “What I want is a new bride,” he said, his tone dripping with sinister charm, still shirtless and seemingly unbothered by the chaos around him.

As he stalked his way toward you, a predatory glint in his eyes, you felt a mix of fear and excitement. “Sanji, you don’t mean…” you started, taking a hesitant step back, but he closed the distance between you with ease.

“Yes, Y/N,” he said, his voice a low, sultry whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “It’s you I want. You’ve captivated me more than any other.”

Just then, Usopp, visibly panicking, shouted, “Take Holy Water!” Before you could process his words, he flung a vial of shimmering liquid at Sanji. The moment it splashed against him, the air around Sanji seemed to crackle with energy as his whole body began to turn to fire.

“Y/N!” Usopp yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the stairs. “Come on!” You sprinted up the staircase, your heart racing as you glanced back at the chaos unfolding below.

Sanji, now surrounded by flames, let out a furious growl, but instead of being vanquished, he lunged for one of the partygoers, grabbing them and sinking his fangs into their neck. You gasped as the crimson liquid flowed freely, the scene before you turning even more grotesque.

“Quick! We have to get out of here before he comes after us!” Usopp urged, pulling you further away. But as you reached the upper floor, the laughter and merriment of the party had twisted into something darker.

Those who wore masks began to remove them, revealing faces that contorted with hunger, their eyes gleaming with a predatory light. Panic set in as you realized the truth: Sanji’s guests were not what they seemed.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Sanji’s voice boomed, echoing through the mansion, drawing your attention back to him. The flames flickered around him, highlighting his chiseled features, making him look even more otherworldly. “I present to you… VAN HELSING!” he shouted, pointing directly at Usopp.

A hush fell over the crowd, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still. Then, the atmosphere shifted as Sanji’s minions transformed, their forms twisting and contorting into grotesque versions of their former selves. Fangs bared, their laughter took on a sinister edge as they advanced toward you and Usopp.

“Run!” Usopp screamed, tugging you toward a nearby window. You could hear Sanji’s laughter behind you, smooth and menacing, as he beckoned the other vampires to join him.

“Flee all you want, but you can’t escape your fate, Y/N! You’re meant to be with me!” His voice echoed with dark promise as he advanced, an eerie glow in his eyes.

“In here!” Usopp shouted, leading you to a door, slamming it shut and quickly locking it behind you. He shoved a chair against it for added security, but you could hear the relentless banging from the other side. Panic surged through you.

“What do we do, Usopp?” you said, breathless and on the verge of losing hope.

“I told you this was a bad idea!” he snapped, glancing nervously at the door as the pounding grew louder. Suddenly, a hole ripped through the wood, and Sanji’s smirk emerged, his eyes glinting with a mix of hunger and desire.

“Why are you running, my love?” he teased, his voice smooth like silk but laced with danger. “There’s only one way to escape.”

Usopp’s eyes widened in realization. “We need to get out now!” he urged, darting to the window and smashing another chair through the glass. Shards exploded outward as you turned to him in disbelief.

“Usopp, what are you—”

“Go!” he shouted, urgency in his tone.

Just then, the door began to splinter under Sanji’s relentless force. “I have you now, my dear,” he said, his voice dripping with menace.

With adrenaline pumping, you and Usopp made a dash for the broken window, leaping through it and landing awkwardly on the ground outside.

“God, I think I may have broken a rib,” Usopp groaned, clutching his side.

“I think I may have broken my leg,” you replied, wincing at the pain shooting through your ankle.

“Quick, now's our chance!” Usopp urged, pushing himself up and urging you to follow as you both staggered toward the waiting car parked on the overgrown lawn.

“That was close,” you panted, breathless as you stumbled into the vehicle, the weight of the night's chaos crashing down around you.

As Usopp fumbled with the keys, you glanced back at the mansion. Shadows flickered in the windows, and you could have sworn you saw Sanji watching you, his expression a mix of annoyance and something darker—something that sent shivers down your spine.

“Come on, come on!” Usopp urged, finally starting the engine. The car sputtered but roared to life, and with a screech of tires, you sped away from the haunted mansion, leaving behind the nightmares that threatened to consume you both.

“Did we really just escape from a vampire?” you gasped, still trying to process everything that had just happened.

Usopp glanced at you, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m not sure what that was, but I’m pretty sure that was the craziest night of my life!”

As the lights of the mansion faded in the rearview mirror, a lingering sense of unease settled in your stomach. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Sanji would come for you again, and that his desire for you was far from over. A few minutes passed, and you finally made it to your backyard.

“Okay, Usopp, you go. I’ll stay home,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“What if Sanji comes back?” Usopp replied, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry; I’ll carry one of these!” you said, breaking Usopp’s garlic necklace in half and holding a piece tightly. “We just gotta survive the night.”

With a quick hug, Usopp climbed into the car and drove away, leaving you alone in the darkness. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door using the key hidden under the mat and quietly tiptoed inside. You rushed to your room, locking the door behind you and securing the windows.

“Finally safe at last,” you sighed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You grabbed a fresh towel and clean clothes to shower, eager to wash away the night’s horrors. As you removed your clothes and heels, you wrapped a soft robe around yourself and waited for the water to heat up.

Just as the steam began to fill the bathroom, a familiar voice broke the silence. “You know, there’s always a way to get in,” he said, causing you to freeze and turn slowly. There, lounging casually on your bed, was Sanji, still shirtless and looking utterly at ease.

“Stay back!” you warned, holding up the piece of garlic as your heart raced.

He laughed, a low, menacing sound that sent chills down your spine. In a flash, he gripped your wrist, causing you to drop the garlic. “What do you want…” you whispered, fear creeping into your voice.

“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, stepping closer. “What I want is you, my dear. Let me show you just how much I can make a convincing case.” His voice dripped with seduction, making your heart pound harder against your chest.

In a panic, you kicked at him, catching him off guard. He stumbled back just enough for you to dart toward the bathroom. But his grip was too strong; he followed you, and before you knew it, he had the door open, blocking your escape.

You stepped back, feeling yourself hit the tub, the warm water cascading over your robe and soaking into the fabric. Sanji stepped in too, letting the water pour over him, his blonde hair slicking back and accentuating the sharpness of his features. His fangs peeked from his lips, and his blue ocean eyes darkened to a deeper hue, filled with an unsettling intensity.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to block him out, but his presence was overwhelming.

“I said look at me!” he growled, his voice low and almost feral. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, and the moment your gazes locked, you felt as if you had been ensnared in his spell, unable to look away.

“Tonight you are mine, and you will become my bride,” he whispered, his voice sultry and enticing. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your neck that sent shockwaves of desire coursing through your body, causing you to gasp and moan despite yourself.

With each passing second, your body felt as though it were succumbing to his control. Sanji’s hands roamed everywhere, exploring the curves of your body beneath the soaked robe. “Sanji…” you whispered, torn between fear and the intoxicating thrill of his touch.

The water continued to fall over both of you, creating a cocoon of warmth and intimacy that blurred the lines of danger and desire. His fingers deftly undid the ties of your robe, discarding the fabric and letting it fall away, leaving you exposed to the warmth of the water and the heat radiating from his body.

Your heart raced, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. “What are you doing?” you breathed, trying to regain some semblance of control, but his gaze held you captive.

“I’m showing you what you truly desire,” he said softly, brushing his lips against your shoulder, trailing kisses down your arm. Every touch sent a spark through your skin, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't ignore.

His fingers danced along your waist, teasingly light, before dipping lower to explore the curves of your hips. “You’re trembling, Y/N,” he murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Is it from fear… or anticipation?”

You shivered at the sound of his voice, the way it rolled over you like a wave, tempting and dangerous. “Sanji…” you breathed, feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated. His teasing touch ignited something deep within, and despite the danger, you found yourself leaning into him, craving more of his intoxicating presence.

He caught your chin, tilting your face to meet his gaze. “You can’t hide from me, sweetheart. I can feel your heartbeat quicken,” he taunted, his breath hot against your lips. “Admit it, you want this as much as I do.”

With every word, he closed the distance between you, his lips ghosting over yours, a teasing brush that sent electricity shooting through your body. “Just one taste, my love,” he whispered, the promise in his voice making your pulse race. “I promise it will be delicious.”

The water swirled around you both, cascading in steamy droplets, and as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, the world outside faded away. “I can make you feel pleasure like you’ve never known,” he teased, his eyes darkening with desire. “But you have to surrender to me.”

The heat between you intensified, and the air was thick with anticipation as Sanji continued to tease you with his knee, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp with pleasure. Each gentle bounce sent waves of sensation coursing through your body, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

“Ah, ah, you need to surrender to me,” he taunted, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down your spine. His eyes, now a deep, smoldering blue, were locked onto yours, filled with a wild mixture of hunger and adoration. You could feel your resolve crumbling as he played you like a finely tuned instrument.

“God, Sanji,” you moaned, feeling the heat radiate from him and envelop you entirely. It was intoxicating, every movement, every touch drawing you closer to the edge. His knee pressed between your legs, creating an almost unbearable friction that made your breath hitch.

“Just imagine what I could do if you let me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, making you shiver. “One bite is all it takes…”

He placed peppered kisses along your neck, each gentle caress igniting fire beneath your skin. As his lips traveled lower, he nibbled with his fangs, causing you to gasp at the sensation. It was both thrilling and terrifying—the mix of pleasure and danger sending your mind into a whirl.

“Sanji, please,” you breathed, caught between wanting him closer and the fear of losing yourself completely in the moment.

“Please what?” he teased, his voice dripping with playful seduction. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head, desperation clawing at you. “No… I don’t want you to stop.”

“Good girl,” he purred, satisfaction glinting in his eyes as he pressed you firmly against the cool tiles. The juxtaposition of the cold surface against your heated skin heightened your senses, making you acutely aware of every little thing he did.

He resumed kissing along your neck, trailing down to your collarbone, his fangs grazing your skin just enough to send sparks of electricity through you. “Just surrender to me, Y/N,” he coaxed, his breath hot against your flesh. “Let me take you where you’ve never been before.”

You felt yourself giving in to the sensations, surrendering to the sweet, intoxicating pleasure he promised. With every teasing nibble and every slow, deliberate movement, Sanji wove a spell around you that made it impossible to think of anything but him.

“Tonight, you’re mine,” he whispered against your skin, the promise heavy with temptation. “And I won’t let you go until I’ve had my fill.”

His words wrapped around you like silk, and as he pressed against you, you realized you were ready to embrace whatever came next. The thrill of the unknown, mixed with the warmth of his body, was enough to drown out any lingering doubts.

“Take me, Sanji,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with need and anticipation.

“Now you’re speaking my language,” he grinned, the hunger in his eyes intensifying as he captured your lips once more, sealing your fate in a kiss that promised to lead you into a night of unparalleled passion.

As his lips crashed against yours, the world outside faded completely, leaving only the sound of the water cascading around you and the rapid beating of your hearts. Sanji's kiss was deep and consuming, igniting every nerve in your body as he pressed you further into the cool tiles of the bathroom.

“Are you ready?” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and sultry, laced with desire. You nodded, your heart racing in your chest. The thrill of surrendering to him sent delicious shivers down your spine.

“Good,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. He removed the remaing articles of clothing he wore, leaving him bare infront of you. His muscles and abs peaking deliciously. The darkness in his eyes shimmered with a predatory glint, the embodiment of everything you craved. With a playful smirk, he lifted you effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped deeper into the shower.

The warm water enveloped you both, cascading over your bodies, mixing with the heat radiating from Sanji. He held you close, his body pressed firmly against yours, and the sensation of your skin sliding against his ignited a fire within you.

“Let me show you how good it can feel,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He began to move slowly, rolling his hips against yours with a teasing rhythm, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Sanji…” you gasped, your head tipping back against the tiles as the water continued to pour over you. Every move he made was calculated, designed to elicit the maximum amount of pleasure from you. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, igniting every inch of your skin with a burning need.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he urged, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing and nibbling as he moved lower. “I want to hear you say it.”

You bit your lip, the tension building within you. “I want you,” you finally breathed, the words tumbling from your lips like a secret you had been holding onto for far too long.

“Then you shall have me,” he declared, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he took hold of your chin, tilting your head back to expose your neck. “Tonight, I’m going to make you mine in every way.”

His fangs grazed your skin again, teasingly close to breaking the surface. You could feel the excitement thrumming through you, mixed with a delicious hint of fear. But there was something intoxicating about the danger he presented, and the thrill only heightened your desire.

With one swift motion, he sank his teeth into your neck, a gentle bite that sent a shock of pleasure coursing through your veins. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming and euphoric as you felt the warm rush of blood leaving your body.

“Sanji!” you cried out, lost in the whirlwind of sensations. The world spun around you, and every part of you ached with need, urging him to take more.

He withdrew slightly, licking the spot he had bitten, his tongue soothing the sting while his eyes held yours captive. “Delicious,” he murmured, satisfaction evident in his voice. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

“More,” you urged, your voice barely a whisper, a plea for him to deepen the connection that was forming between you.

“Always, my love,” he replied, his lips curling into a wicked grin. He leaned in again, kissing you fiercely, his tongue dancing with yours as he pulled you closer. The water continued to cascade around you, the steam rising and enveloping you both in a haze of warmth and intimacy.

As he lifted you higher against the wall, your bodies moved in perfect harmony, the rhythm intensifying with each passing moment. The fire within you blazed brighter, consuming every thought until there was nothing but the two of you, tangled together in a heated embrace.

With each thrust of his hips, he pushed you closer to the edge, your body responding to his every movement. The sensation of his warm skin against yours, the way he filled you completely, was everything you had ever wanted.

“Look at you,” he said, breathless and awestruck. “So beautiful, so perfect for me.”

The intensity of his words sent shivers down your spine, and as he continued to move, you felt yourself teetering on the brink of ecstasy. With a final thrust, everything shattered around you, sending you spiraling into a wave of pure, unadulterated bliss.

"Sanji!" you cried out, the pleasure overwhelming you as you surrendered completely to the sensations, to him. He held you tight, his breath mingling with yours, and as the last ripples of pleasure coursed through you, he whispered softly against your ear, “Welcome to my world, Y/N. You’re mine now, and I’ll never let you go.”

Still enveloped in a pleasure-filled haze, a realization dawned on you, heavy and unsettling: you had succumbed to Sanji's trick. “You tricked me,” you said, the words barely a whisper as you grabbed your robe, wrapping it around your still-damp body before stepping out of the shower.

You rushed to the mirror, breathless and wide-eyed, desperately trying to see your reflection. Water dripped from your hair, cascading down your shoulders, but as you caught sight of your own image, you noticed something that made your heart race with fear and confusion. There, on your neck, was the faint mark of his bite—two delicate punctures surrounded by an almost ethereal glow.

“But you bit me...” you murmured, the reality of your situation crashing down on you. It felt surreal, the warmth of his presence still lingering on your skin, juxtaposed against the cold realization of what had just happened. You rubbed your neck gingerly, the mark pulsating slightly as if it were alive, a cruel reminder of the connection he had forged between you.

“Why, Sanji?” you asked, turning to face him, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and bewilderment. “What did you do to me?”

He leaned against the doorway, a devilish smirk playing on his lips, his blue eyes glinting with mischief and something darker. “I gave you a taste of what we could have together, Y/N. I wanted you to feel it, to understand the bond between us. And now, you’re part of me.”

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you—fear, anger, desire. “You can’t just take that from me!” you shot back, your heart racing. “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t want to be a part of your world!”

Sanji stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from playful to serious, his expression softening. “But you do want it, deep down. I can see it in your eyes, in the way your body responded to me. This was never just a trick, Y/N; it’s something deeper. You and I… we’re meant to be together.”

You shook your head, grappling with the conflicting feelings swirling inside you. “No, you manipulated me. This isn’t love; it’s a power play!”

His gaze hardened, but there was still a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “It’s not just power; it’s passion. You felt it. I know you did. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you now.”

“Protect me?” you echoed incredulously. “From what? You’re the one I need protection from!”

He took another step forward, the warmth radiating from him drawing you in against your better judgment. “You don’t understand the world I come from. There are dangers you can’t even begin to fathom. This mark signifies more than you think; it binds us, yes, but it also protects you. I’ll always be there to keep you safe.”

You wanted to believe him, but the trepidation in your heart held you back. “What does this mean for me? What have you done to my life?”

Sanji reached out, gently tilting your chin up so you met his gaze. “You’re stronger than you know, Y/N. I’ll teach you how to harness this. You can control it, but you have to trust me.”

His voice was low, a melodic caress that sent a shiver down your spine. The way he looked at you ignited a spark of longing, and despite your anger, you found yourself captivated. “You have to let me in,” he continued, his tone softening. “Together, we can navigate this new reality. I won’t let you go, and deep down, I think you don’t want me to.”

The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, a mix of fear and desire battling within you. Could you truly trust him? Or was this just the beginning of a darker journey? You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you searched for the words that would define your choice.

Before you could respond to Sanji's plea, the door swung open with a loud crash, and Usopp stormed in, clutching a small vial of shimmering liquid in his hand. “The power of this water compels you!” he shouted dramatically, splashing the contents at Sanji with a fervor that was both comedic and desperate.

The holy water hit Sanji with a splatter, causing him to hiss in surprise, his features twisting in annoyance. “What the hell, Usopp?” he exclaimed, stepping back and raising a hand to shield his face. The tension in the room was suddenly interrupted by the slap of water cascading from the shower, mingling with Usopp’s chaotic entrance.

You couldn't help but notice the relief that washed over you at Usopp's unexpected appearance, but your attention quickly shifted back to him when you noticed something alarming. “Usopp, your neck!” you cried out, pointing in horror at the unmistakable mark of another vampire bite, mirroring the one now etched on your own skin.

Usopp looked down, a bewildered expression crossing his face as he touched the puncture wounds, which were still fresh and glistening slightly. “Oh, come on! Not you too!” he whined, his voice tinged with frustration and disbelief. “I thought I was the only one! This is a disaster!”

Sanji let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing in the tiled bathroom. “I take it one of my wives bit you?” he smirked, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

“Very funny!” you shot back, trying to regain your composure as your heart raced. “What happened to surviving the night, Usopp?”

“Hey, you’re one to talk!” Usopp replied defensively, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You just had an encounter with our head vampire, and I came in to try and save you!”

As the sun began to rise outside, the soft light seeped into the bathroom, casting a golden glow over everything. You glanced toward the window, noting how the sky shifted from deep navy to warm hues of orange and pink. The dawning day felt surreal against the backdrop of your chaotic night.

“So since Usopp got bitten by one of your wives, and you are the head vampire, that means...” you said, your voice trailing off as you processed the implications.

Usopp’s eyes widened as he glanced at you, realization dawning on him. “So does this mean I feel...?” His voice trailed off, uncertainty flickering in his gaze.

Sanji, nonchalantly pulling out a cigarette from his pants, leaned against the bathroom sink, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Hell no, Y/N is mine, and mine alone. What I feel for her are my desires. But if it’s about sucking blood or even desires to control, then yes, Usopp, you’ll feel that, too.” He brought the cigarette to his lips and lit it, blowing out a plume of smoke that curled lazily into the air, mingling with the steam from the shower.

“Great,” Usopp groaned, rubbing his temples. “Just what I needed—sharing a psychic connection with a vampire and his unwilling bride!”

You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at Sanji’s possessive declaration. “This is too much,” you murmured, shaking your head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Sanji stepped closer, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper. “You don’t have to believe it; just accept it, Y/N. We’re in this together now. All of us.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and there was an intensity in his gaze that made your heart race.

Usopp rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the flicker of determination in his expression. “Fine, but if I start feeling weird cravings for blood, I’m blaming you two!”

“Don’t worry, Usopp,” you reassured him, feeling a surprising sense of camaraderie forming. “I’ll make sure we navigate this together.”

Sanji chuckled softly, the tension in the room easing slightly. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s figure out what we’re going to do next before the sun fully rises.”

“Right, and maybe we should figure out how to reverse whatever just happened,” you added, a hint of urgency creeping into your voice.

“Reverse it?” Sanji smirked, taking a leisurely drag from his cigarette. “Why would we want to do that? I think you’ve grown rather fond of this arrangement, haven’t you?”

You shot him a glare, but the teasing glint in his eyes made it hard to stay angry. “This is not a game, Sanji! There are serious consequences to this, and I need to know what happens now.”

Usopp nodded vigorously, his expression now more serious. “Yeah! We have to make sure we can control this... whatever this is.”

As you stood there, the reality of your situation began to sink in deeper. The dawn light bathed the room in warmth, contrasting with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. You felt drawn to Sanji, the bond between you intensified by the events of the night. At the same time, you were acutely aware of the unexpected partnership forming with Usopp, who was now, whether he liked it or not, part of this bizarre new world.

Sanji’s expression shifted to one of determination, and he extinguished his cigarette with a swift motion. “First things first, we need to find the others. They need to know what’s going on, and we’ll figure out how to handle the bites together.”

“Agreed,” you said, glancing between the two of them. “We can’t keep this a secret. The last thing we need is for this to spiral out of control.”

With newfound resolve, the three of you stepped out of the bathroom, ready to face whatever challenges awaited you. The bond of the night before felt like a chain that tied you together, and now you try and prepare to confront the reality of your circumstances.