#Vampire!Tyrone x Black!reader

[megamindsecretlair]

Midnight Sin - Chapter 7

Chapter 6 Chapter 8

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Info dump. World building. Mentions of violence, use of n-word.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. Tyrone has an long overdue talk with his brother Fontaine.

Word Count: 4,033k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: I hope the wait was worth it. I know we get a lot out of this, but it's necessary I promise!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @sageispunk @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @amethyst09 @ciaqui @harmshake @00aijia00 @ms-angiealsina @satoruya

Tyrone

Tyrone stared down at you as you slept. Despite your earlier words, he did feel somewhat guilty about how he treated you. Like you were just some piece of meat. Just a hole for him to fill and find his pleasure. When that was the furthest from the truth.

Every moment with you felt like he was in the longest battle of his life. He constantly fought his nature, working overtime to resist draining you dry whenever he fed. He’d be joking and laughing with you, and then he’d catch a whiff of your scent. His eyes would zero in on that juicy vein in your neck and you’d be none the wiser. 

His mouth would genuinely salivate, already tasting your blood. He’d have to force himself to calm down. Force himself to remember that if he ripped you apart, you’d no longer look at him. Smile at him. Laugh with him. Be alive. He couldn’t have that, he simply couldn’t.

He gently caressed the side of your face. You moaned in your sleep. He smiled at you. You were a starfish on the bed, legs spread out and taking up all the room. Tyrone sat on the edge, content with any moment he spent with you. 

The night was not over, however. He had duties to attend to. He clenched his fist and looked at it. It had long since healed after punching Fontaine. It felt good in the moment, but that was still his damn brother and it was time they really got shit off of their chest. They used to be so close. 

Tyrone got out of the bed. You shifted, eyes furrowing, before you settled back into sleep. Did you feel like he did? Did you feel like you were destined to be his? Like all these years of living were putting you into his path and now you were settled? He couldn’t be sure. He was honestly afraid to ask. 

Tyrone put his briefs back on, padding out of the room as quietly as possible. He gently closed the door and then placed his hand on top. Outside of the room, he pulled on that ruthless armor he was famous for.

He pulled his shoulders back, lifted his chin, and let that scowl cross his face. The further he walked from his side of the house, the more the sounds of fucking reached his ears. He hunted through the sounds until he could locate his brother’s heartbeat. After all these years, it remained the same. Beating a little too fast as if Fontaine never slowed down for anything. 

Tyrone headed towards one of the private play rooms on the first floor. He passed various states of undress from people. Everyone was getting poked or doing the poking. He paid no attention. None of it mattered. The closer he got to Fontaine, the more his anger returned. Thundering in his chest. 

He just saw Fontaine close to you, touching you, and he saw fucking red. Down one of the hallways, screams reached his ears and he winced from the shrill sound of it. He entered the room without knocking to see his brother at the foot of the bed, fucking a human donor while he fed on her. 

After many centuries of living, seeing his brother naked wasn’t new to him. They’d shared many women, many conquests, sometimes fucking their way through a city. Tyrone merely leaned against the doorframe until Fontaine came up for air. Fontaine turned a bloody smile to Tyrone before licking excess blood from his lips. 

Fontaine slapped the donor’s ass and it jiggled. “Hurry up, shit, I need to nut,” he said. The girl beneath Fontaine continued crying, moaning, and shaking before she screamed again in ecstasy. Fontaine grunted, reaching his own climax.

He withdrew from the donor and then used a nearby towel to clean himself up. The donor stretched like a cat onto the bed, brown skin gleaming with sweat in the dim lighting. “You can use me any time, ‘Taine,” she purred. 

Fontaine only chuckled and Tyrone knew that Fontaine had no plans to ever see her again. If all these years hadn’t changed his brother, then Tyrone knew that the girl was too pliant. Too loud. 

Fontaine quickly dressed and approached the door, smiling at Tyrone, before walking out. They exchanged no words, not wanting any prying ears to listen in to this particular conversation. They walked in silence upstairs, heading towards Tyrone’s soundproof office. 

Fontaine kicked the door closed and put his hands in his pockets. “Get that shit out yo’ system?” Fontaine asked. 

Tyrone rolled his neck and then sat on the edge of the desk. “What the fuck, ‘Taine? Seriously. What the fuck? Stop the mysterious bullshit, stop the smug asshole routine. Why are you really fucking here?” Tyrone asked. His brother changed his answer every time. And Tyrone was getting sick of it. 

Fontaine pursed his lips and looked down at the carpet. His face healed from Tyrone’s punches. And it only made Tyrone want to punch him again. 

“‘Taine,” Tyrone urged when it seemed like Fontaine wouldn’t say anything else. 

“I keep telling yo’ ass but you ain’t trynna listen,” Fontaine said, voice going gruff. 

“This shit with Father? You can do that from London, or Chiang Mai, or wherever the fuck you were. Why are you here?” Tyrone asked. “Because all I see is that you’re running around, leaving bodies, trying to expose us again, and showing up like a fucked up version of Santa Claus, man.” 

“I already said that wasn’t me, nigga,” Fontaine said. 

Tyrone rolled his neck. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with Fontaine like this. Defensive. Closed down. Threatened. Tyrone sighed and looked at his brother. Really looked at him. 

“What’s going on, Fontaine? This…this shit ain’t working,” he said.

Fontaine looked everywhere but at Tyrone. He looked at the way the office was decorated. The random pieces of expensive art that survived centuries just to end up in this office where Tyrone issued horrific horrors. 

“I’m tired of being punished for some shit I didn’t do. I wanna fuckin’ come home. I wanna…hang with my brothers again,” he said. 

Tyrone’s head snapped back. “You weren’t playing when you said you missed us?” One of the most consistent things that Fontaine maintained was that he missed Tyrone. He always thought that Fontaine was joking or being an asshole like usual. Did Tyrone misread all of the interactions since Fontaine been back? 

“I ain’t stutter, nigga,” Fontaine said. 

Tyrone smirked. “You ain’t foolin’ no one, lil’ nigga,” Tyrone said. “If you told the truth more often, I might start believing you,” Tyrone said. 

Fontaine waved Tyrone off. He scratched at his locs, right behind his ear. Fontaine’s little tell. Fontaine was secretly the most sensitive of the bunch. He’d sit and stew over something if it genuinely affected him, turning into an outright bear if anyone commented on it. So Tyrone and his brothers left it alone. 

“I shouldn’t have been banished anyway,” Fontaine said. 

Tyrone reeled back. “You mean, after all the shit you pulled? Feeding on humans? Leaving them in the street like trash? Getting those reporters all on our backs? Nigga, you nearly sent us back a hundred years where we still had to hide,” Tyrone said. His temper flared, coiling through him like a mean ass snake. “I won’t even get started on what you did to me.”

Fontaine’s shoulders had drooped at his confession, but now he was back to a defensive stance against the door. “Fuck you think I did to you?” Fontaine asked.

Tyrone cursed. There was so much life lived, so many memories lost, that Tyrone shouldn’t be mad that Fontaine didn’t remember. However, it had been a thorn in his paw ever since Fontaine climbed onto the plane in the early 90s, never to be heard from again. 

“You gonna sit there like you ain’t know what the fuck you did? In the 90s? My big plan?” Tyrone asked. With each question flung at Fontaine, he tensed up until Fontaine looked as still as a statue. His questioning look only infuriated Tyrone. All this time, he couldn’t think about Fontaine without getting mad all over again and for this nigga, it was just another Tuesday night. 

Fontaine scowled. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. One minute I was helping secure yo’ ungrateful ass a ride, and next thing I know, Father handing me a plane ticket ‘talm ‘bout don’t bring yo ass back.” 

Tyrone stood up from the desk and paced in a small line. “Father told me how fuckin’ smug you were, telling him everything,” Tyrone said.

Fontaine sucked his teeth. “And you believed that nigga over me?!” 

Tyrone waved his hands. “Fuck that, fuck that. The night that I was supposed to leave, I met up with Talia. I know that wasn’t the plan, but she was having nerves about leaving everyone and everything behind. You had left to get our ride. ‘Cause when I came back to the spot, you weren’t there. When you didn’t show up at 9 like you were supposed to, I went looking for you,” Tyrone explained. 

He remembered that night vividly. He used to torture himself with those last few hours. What if he hadn’t met up with Talia? What if he had gotten the ride himself? What if he had planned to leave sooner, instead of waiting for Talia to say goodbye to her family? 

This part still fucking sucked. He didn’t know how he’d ever begin to tell you about Talia. Tyrone’s breath turned choppy as he fought the feelings that still drummed up. It no longer felt like needles were punching into his heart. But more like someone had his heart in their meaty fist. 

“I got a call from you, saying that you had to change the meet up spot ‘cause you thought Father was on to us. But when I got to the church…”Tyrone’s throat constricted. Considering that he didn’t need to actually breathe, this sensation was trippy and he had to swallow around the painful lump in his throat. 

“Talia was strung up like dinner. Drained dry. Father said you did it and he banished you overseas for it,” Tyrone finished and looked back at Fontaine. 

Fontaine looked disgusted. His lips were curled back, showing his golden incisors. “I’m gonna kill that nigga,” Fontaine promised, low and rough in the quiet room. 

“That’s not what fuckin’ happened. I was securing the ride like I said. On the way back, I got a call from you saying that you made a mistake and you didn’t want to leave with Talia anymore. I thought that shit was weird. I was asking you all kinds of questions when someone snuck up behind me and knocked me out.” 

Snuck up behind Fontaine? Who the fuck could do that? Had to be another vampire. Had to be another vampire that knew Fontaine. 

“When I woke up, Father had my shit already packed and a plane waiting for me. ‘Talm ‘bout I’ve disgraced the family enough. He said that you copped to everything and needed his help getting out of it. He said you hated me and wished I’d never been turned,” Fontaine said. 

Tyrone’s head was spinning. So many lies. So easily believed from their trifling ass Father. 

“I didn’t tell him shit. Talia’s family was gonna expose us for sure, but they had no real proof. Nothing besides the bodies that were drained and we already had a plan to explain that shit.” 

“I know! That’s why I thought that shit was weird! We already handled her family, so there was nothing to really cop to. Nothing about what we did. And nothing about us getting the fuck outta there,” Fontaine said. 

Tyrone rubbed his face as he thought back to that night. Talia descended from a line of vampire servants. Human companions, like the shit Slick Charles did, tending to their daytime needs when they were busy sleeping. Except, her family had turned traitorous many centuries ago. They were religious fanatics, upset that the Dark Gift was denied them, so they believed no one should be immortal. 

Talia didn’t believe like her family did. She wanted to become a vampire. Spend the rest of her life with Tyrone. They fell madly, deeply in love, bonding over the many books they read trying to escape the reality of their lives. It was Talia’s idea to leave. Talia’s idea to disappear and live how they wanted to. 

Tyrone had made enough money from his deals to never have to worry about getting caught. The plan was to sneak in the middle of the night, when her family was too busy following the false lead Fontaine spread about the vampires’ resting places. Tyrone spread his own rumor, about who was dropping the bodies, to keep Father off his back long enough to dip. 

But when he got that call…when he found Talia’s body…he collapsed. Weak and pathetic. His Father sneered at him while he gleefully told Tyrone about Fontaine’s betrayal. Fontaine never spread those rumors. Fontaine told Talia’s family that she was fucking a vampire and even worse, planned to join the undead. They handed Talia over to Fontaine to do as he pleased. Seeing an opportunity to hurt Tyrone, Fontaine drained her and trussed her up like a turkey. 

If that wasn’t true, then what the fuck really happened? 

“What the fuck?” Tyrone asked to no one in particular. This whole time he hated his brother…for nothing? 

“Father said you knew Talia was a traitor and fucked her anyway. Conspired to have her family take Father down while he slept. Planned to take over the Council from him. He told me that he was going to bring you to heel but I couldn’t be there anymore. That someone had to take the heat for what happened to Talia’s whole family.” 

The days after Talia’s murder were hazy to say the least. Tyrone buried himself in drink and fucking, losing himself, and his reason for living. He did have a fuzzy memory about a news story, stating that Talia’s whole family had perished in a giant fire. 

“This is fucked. So if I didn’t call you, and you didn’t call me…?” Tyrone asked. 

The realization dawned on them both, twin looks of horror. “Chester.” 

“Fucking Chester,” Fontaine spat. 

Their oldest brother was Father’s little lap dog. If Father said to jump, Chester was already five feet in the air. 

“You think he killed Talia? Her whole family?” Tyrone asked. 

It wouldn’t be a surprise, actually. If Father somehow caught wind of their plan to leave, Chester would be the one he’d call to clean everything up. Make it neat and pretty. Keep the Council circle jerking each other off. 

Fontaine rubbed his face, something Tyrone often caught himself doing. Fontaine moved to the chair in front of Tyrone’s desk, falling into it with a weary sigh.

“We both got fuckin’ played. And we didn’t see it,” Fontaine said. 

Tyrone didn’t want to think about how stupid they’d been. How easily they believed Father’s lies. “I thought you hated me for wanting to leave with Talia. You were getting out too, but I thought…I thought you resented me for finding her,” Tyrone confessed. 

“I noticed you pulling away over the years. Not into ripping and running through the streets like before. Not since the nightclub,” he said.

One of the last times they slept with someone together. Before he met Talia. “I just felt empty. Like…doing this shit for the next hundred years was gon’ kill me,” Tyrone said. 

“I thought you were starting to hate me. You didn’t want to hang out anymore. When you found Talia, I hoped that you’d perk back up. But when Father said you changed your mind, I wondered if you managed to get out anyway without me. I thought you went to him to try to get rid of me once and for all.” 

Tyrone stared at his brother, at his best friend, at the only one who had his back against Father. There was so much history between them. So much pain and sorrow. “We were both played by Father. But why? Why did he want to split us up?” 

“I don’t know. I kept up with the news. After I was gone, all the killings stopped.”

Tyrone nodded. “I thought it was you,” he said.

“It’s starting up again. Before I got back,” he said. 

Tyrone didn’t know what any of that fucking meant. Was Father fucking with them still? Was Chester? Or was it someone else, playing on their painful past, and still trying to drive a wedge between Fontaine and Tyrone? 

Tyrone rubbed his face. “Fuck man. I’m sorry. If I even thought…” 

Fontaine nodded. “If I’d known, I would’ve questioned it more. I knew his bitch ass was shoveling shit but I couldn’t see from where.” 

Tyrone felt lighter in a lot of ways. Like the weight of the world was finally lifted from his shoulders. The anger and guilt from being away from his brother but not able to forget what happened. 

“You said you came here because Father started poking into your business,” Tyrone said. Might as well get all of it out. 

“A few months ago, I noticed that my accounts weren't adding up. After some persuasion, my nerds found that someone was hacking my bank accounts, moving just enough to not get noticed. Went back at least a year. We traced it back to Father’s bank. Can’t prove it was him, but my nerds are still working on it.”

“He can’t possibly be broke,” Tyrone said. 

Fontaine shrugged. “That’s why I been running around town trynna figure out what he’s up to. The money he funneled from me is hiding behind shell corporations, offshore accounts, and creative accounting. All so he can block yo’ ass from bidding for that property,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone cursed. “He’s paying Isaac to fuck me over?” Tyrone asked. He was boiling with rage. Overflowed by it. His chest ached from how angry he was. His fangs ached to rip and tear and gouge someone’s throat out. 

“Why the fuck is he doing this?” Tyrone asked.

“I’m still working on that. In the meantime, you need to figure out a way to hide that fine–” Fontaine stopped when Tyrone leveled him with a glare.

“Respectable young lady you whisked away,” Fontaine finished and smirked. 

Tyrone rolled his eyes. “I’m working on it,” he said. He would do anything to protect you. Anything. He hadn’t heard from Yo-Yo and it was about time for her to check in. 

Tyrone stood and walked around his desk, pulling the phone to him. He dialed Yo-Yo’s number and put it on speaker. He wasn’t sure if he fully believed his brother or if he could forget all those years of hate. But this was the first step. 

“”You know what time it is?” Yo-Yo snapped into the phone. 

“You’ve been too quiet,” Tyrone said. 

Yo-Yo sighed and there were sounds of shuffling. By the sound of it, she was getting out of bed. There was a soft click of a lamp turning on and then an irritated huff as she sat down. 

“You almost got me in trouble with this shit, nigga. No one wants to bring this shit up,” she said. 

“I’ll double what I gave you, damn.” Tyrone rolled his eyes. Fontaine smirked at him and Tyrone flipped him off. 

“Now you speaking my language,” Yo-Yo said, changing her entire attitude. “Bloodsingers are real. I had to find one of the blacklisted old G’s in the community willing to talk about it. The Old Ones got together to create a type of creature with irresistible blood. I’m talking like the world’s best jungle juice, y’know? Like shit will get you fucked up, slipping on your ass, and singing on the voicemail to your ex type shit.

“They were designed to stir vamps into a feeding frenzy, distracting ya’ll, so that you wouldn’t see the stakes coming. And it worked for a few decades of our war. Until the Council ordered the deaths of all those people. A mass genocide. We were fucked up for creating them as bait but ya’ll was extra fucked up for that.”

“Not all of them could be gone, though. We ran across one in Versaille,” Fontaine spoke up. 

“You gotta tell me when we got company, nigga,” Yo-Yo said. 

“Are all of them gone, Yo?” Tyrone asked.

Yo-Yo sighed loudly. He could practically see her smacking her lips and pinching her face. “No. They obviously went into hiding and learned to hide from ya’ll. Their numbers have completely dwindled. We didn’t exactly experiment with them. We have no way of knowing how it’s passed down, if it can be passed down, or any of that. Making more is strictly forbidden. Like, put to death kind of forbidden,” Yo-Yo said. 

Tyrone sank into his chair. “Why is it that a Bloodsinger can walk among vampires and no one seems to be affected. But me and my brother act like a dinner bell’s been rung.” He remembered being obsessed with the woman in Versaille but he couldn’t place the face. 

“Shit, I don’t know. I told you, they were designed for one purpose. Being more enticing to one vampire and not another is unheard of,” she said.

Tyrone hit his desk, hard enough to sting his hand but not hard enough to break the desk. Too much. It was too much he’d learned tonight and he still had a thousand questions. 

“Keep looking, Yo. Find me a way to protect one,” he said.

“Fuck you think I am? Mary Poppins or some shit?” Yo-Yo asked.

Tyrone hung up in her face. He didn’t want or need her tirade. She was all hot air for the most part. There was no doubt that a Weaver could make him walk off the Empire State building if she wanted. It was why he kept her well-paid for her services and didn’t breathe a word about the work she did for him. 

Fontaine looked at him and blew air out of his mouth. “Heavy ass shit,” he said. He lounged back into the chair and stared up at the ceiling. 

“Tell me about it,” Tyrone said. He mimicked Fontaine’s pose and looked up at the smooth ceiling. What the hell was he going to do? Why was his Father after him? How did the Bloodsingers survive? How was he going to protect you?

“She’s the one, isn’t she?” Fontaine asked.

“Yeah, she is,” Tyrone admitted. Tyrone’s thoughts drifted to you, safe and sound in his room, unaware of all the figurative and literal daggers pointed in your direction. He should have left you alone. He should have let you leave the club without his interference. 

Even that thought grated against his nerves. You were the very reason he got up at night. You were the first thing he wanted to see and the last thought he wanted to have. He wanted to know your every idea. Your every worry. He wanted to know what made you tick. What made you laugh. What made you cry. He wanted you with every fiber of his being even while he hungered for every last ounce of your blood. 

For the first time in his life, he knew what it was like to be scared shitless. To have his heart outside of his body, beating within your chest. He couldn’t breathe unless he knew you were safe. So how the hell was he going to protect you from your nature? 

“I can’t lose her, ‘Taine,” Tyrone admitted.

“Don’t worry, little brother. You won’t.” Fontaine promised.

He was probably full of shit but Tyrone appreciated the sentiment. If he needed to raze this world to the dust it came from then he would if it meant that you were safe and by his side. He only hoped you wouldn’t hate him for everything he kept from you.

Midnight Sin Masterlist | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

[soft-persephone]

I Will Be Your End pt. 1

Vampire!Fontaine x Vampire!Black!Reader x Vampire!Abel Morales // John Boyega x Black!Reader x Oscar Isaac

Explicit // WC: 9.5k // warnings: blood, descriptions of corpses, mild body mutilation, death, violence, mild abuse, horror, smut // masterlist // Part 2 //

music: Good People / by Majid Jordan

AN: Biggest shoutout to @megamindsecretlair her Vampire Tyrone fics have required my brain chemistry and changed my life! She is the biggest inspiration behind this fic so if you even slightly enjoy this one, go check out theirs! It’s truly beautiful!

Apparently it’s too long to make into one fic, so I will wait until next week to post pt2

I hope you enjoy!!

-

Where the fuck she at?”

Fontaine threw a chair and Yo-yo ducked, it smattered into pieces upon impact. Not satisfied, he flipped the coffee table and attempted to kick a hole in the couch, but she stopped that shit quick.

“Taine, Nock it the fuck off! I know you mad and all, but we still live here, and we ain’t got nowhere else to go!”

His breaths were rabid and heavy. His eyes glowing hard.

“Where. The fuck. Is. She?” He huffed.

Yo-yo licked her lips.

“It’s bad, real bad. You need to get to her fast,” he opened his mouth, probably to ask her the same fucking question again, but she stopped him with a raised hand, daring him to say something, “I tracked her like you told me, but she’s smart.. real smart.”

“That ain’t nothing we don’t already know. Yo-—“

“—interrupt me one more time.”

He sighed, shaking his head before sitting.

Good, God… finally.

“So boom!” She smacked her fist unity the palm of her other hand. “She only stops to feed in small towns, usually a racist or someone who tried to put his hands on her or other woman, all untraceable to the cops n’ shit.”

His face goes blank. The attitude he once had gone. She cohdi feel the power radiating off of him in waves.

He’s putting the pieces together.

“She’s in New York.” Her lips formed into a line, waiting for his response.

“How many body’s?”

“It’s more than 50.”

Fuck.

Tyrone knew she’d be pissed with him for the first few years, but not like this.

He didn’t think she’d actually run away from him.

He looked at the antique book he brought you.

What is was about, he didn’t have fucking clue. This was a book published before summaries on the back were a thing. It was so old it barely had a title.

You loved reading, like Yo-yo, and history and shit.

It was the perfect gift.

But now.. he might not even get the chance to give it to you.

“Call Slick.”

-

“Are you alright little one?” A voice from somewhere asked you.

It was so rich. He kept talking and talking.

You hummed.

He should talk more.

You could barely feel the blood covering your body. The fresh dark flood of it was dripping from your mouth. Falling down a similar path as the last stickier dried up drops.

You looked up and saw his glowing eyes.

They were golden, but not like the harsh metallic gold that matched Fintaine’s grills. They were an old gold like the moon. An old golden hued moon that connected every ancient moment to the present. Witnessing the tragedy that had befallen what used to be her life that had now become the eternal damnation she didn’t deserve…. That she didn’t ask for.

You might hate Fontaine and what he did to you, but you weren’t stupid.

Vampires don’t pop up out of nowhere and for no reason.

Fear clings to you, but you fight it back down your throat, swallowing it before licking your lips.

“I’m.. I'm sorry,” you started. Your voice sounded foreign to you. It was hoarse, croaky, and broken, “I don’t know all the rules to everything. I won’t make any trouble.” Your heart sank, “I just needed to rest for a moment. I can le—“

“Nonsense.” He doesn’t raise his voice or yell. It was just as rich and calm as the first time you heard it. You lick your lips once more. “What makes you think I want you to leave?”

His mouth wasn’t moving…

“Maybe I saw someone in distress and wanted to help.” He was smiling now. It was poised and polite.

If you didn’t know any better, right now felt like meeting a person on any other day. Like taking a stroll on a random day, in the daylight. Just like you used to.

You’d be walking towards campus for class only to bump into a handsome mysterious stranger, he’d be nice and help you up. Insisting he won’t leave until he knows you're alright. He takes you to lunch.

Leading you to no longer care how late you would be to class, just wishing the day won’t end, so your new found stranger wouldn’t leave you.

Were you in distress?

You won’t play the fool and deny it. But you didn’t like the sound of it either. You didn’t know this stranger. Only his voice in your head and his old eyes.

What do you do now?

Barely blinking, he was closer to you.

You registered the fact that you were sitting on the ground. Your legs curled up, bending at the knee and strown casually to your side. A body strown on the opposite side of you. Brutally mutilated beyond recognition, his chest split in the center, his flesh and guts spilling out like a wild animal taken down by a predator.

He kneeled behind you, holding your back to his chest with one hand as he caressed your cheek with the other.

“Did you do this?” He asked aloud, the breath of his voice falling softly on your forehead, tickling gently at your eyelashes.

His eyes were even prettier up close.

He was prettier than Fontaine.

You cursed whatever foreign power within you that led you to think of him, even now.

“No….” You answered, your voice still hoarse, “It was a werewolf.”

He pulled you tighter against him. Firmly, but gently holding your head to the side by a handful of your hair.

His mouth danced softly on the skin of your jaw to your neck. Worshiping the area with such devotion, it felt sinful. It felt wrong. It felt worse than the curse of being a monster forever.

His teeth sank into your flesh, filling you with as much bliss as he was taking, he wanted to be full of nothing but you. He wanted to consume you.

“Who do you belong to?” You heard his warm amber voice in your head.

“No one.” You silently answered back.

—

It’s been weeks, Slick.”

“I said I wasn’t no miracle worker,” Charles huffed. “I said, I’d see what I could do and as we seeing, it ain’t a whole lot.”

“Fontaine kicked his chair behind him as he stood up and Yo-yo stepped between him.

“Uh-uh, none of that! You remember what happened last time you killed a witch?” She hissed. “Your not putting me through that again, Nigga! I won’t let you!”

Fontaine smacked his teeth before turning around towards the window.

“You sure you can’t feel her?” He placed his hand under his shirt one more time before reaching out into the bond. He didn’t need to touch his chest in any way when reaching out to feel you in the bond that made you all a clan. It was more to calm himself down.

“Nothing.” Yo-yo sighed.

He had everyone in their clan reaching out in the bond daily to feel you, for someone to be able to either feel your emotions, dream about you, or see visions on where you were or what you might be doing.

And it was all failing.

Your connection was growing weaker to everyone everyday.

The only thing your bond was putting out was an insane amount of power. It could knock out weaker members into walls or send them flying if they touched it. For someone of your status, it shouldn’t be possible.

The only times vampires tell stories of fledglings growing insanely strong in a short amount of time was before they tried to overthrow clans from their masters, usurping the line before executing them in front of everyone.

What Fontaine did after he was turned…

“At least she stopped feeding everyday all the time.”

“But she’s been learning things.”

Fontaine’s eyebrows rose together in confusion.

“What you mean? How can you tell?”

“I don’t know.. I just can.” She shook her head with a heavy emotion everyone in the clan was starting to feel. “Something’s different about her. I felt this new person in the clan and I know you haven’t turned anyone since her.”

“She’s in the middle!” Slick slammed his hand on the table. “That’s why I say give me all the details! Every single time!” He shook his head. “ there wouldn’t been no need, to pull out my whole crystal ball and shit!”

“Will you quit whining!” Fontaine huffed, “and can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Yo-yo said she feels a new energy in the bond she can’t explain.” Slick fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, “that means she’s found someone else to pledge allegiance to.”

The air went cold.

Fontaine usually has a better grip on his influence and how it can affect the air around him, but when he was upset it came off fast and hard, filling up the room with fear and trepidation that only made it worse.

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“Fontaine, calm down. No one’s saying she betrayed you. We’re just weighing all the possibilities th—“

“I said, no.”

The intonation of his voice changed to something dark and layered with a power that made Yo-yo and slick unwilling still and stop talking.

“She would never.” Fontaine punched the wall.

“She would never drink another vampire's blood.”

—

Abel, cupped water into his hands and poured it over your shoulders, letting it cascade down your chest and your back. The water was scalding, but his hands were warmer.

His hands were gliding over your skin as if he were attempting to create you himself, or he was worshiping the expanse of your skin. Comiting every curve, bump, stretch mark, and stray mole into his memory. Basking at the feel of you and cherishing each millisecond in fear he wouldn't get another chance.

“What.. happened to me?” You asked, “every moment before now feels like a hazy fever or dream I can barely remember.”

“Bloodlust.”

“Bloodlust? I went on some crazy murder spree?!”

“No,” he smiled at your shock and you somewhat relaxed. Still not liking what had become of view, “you drank quite a large amount of blood in a short amount of time, and instinctively once you're in that state your body will only crave more and more in want of being more powerful.”

“I don’t wish to be more powerful. I don’t wish to be anything.”

Abel frowned at you, but ignored your statement.

You were a little disappointed, but you understood.

You didn’t have any friends to confide in anymore, no one to share your experience of existence with. You had no connection with anything anymore, human or creature, nothing else made you feel like more of a monster than that.

“How do you feel?”

“Better, I suppose.”

“No,” he tsked at you, “how do you feel?” His eyes flashed down at you, and you felt his energy quickly fill the room washing over you in a cocoon of warmth, rivaling the bath water.

You sighed.

There’s nothing more you hated then actively practicing and learning about what you now were.

At least, that’s how it was with Fontaine.

You reached deep within yourself. At your spirit or aura.. perhaps something deep within your mind until you felt this new magical essence that now lived within you.

It was bigger, louder.. but it still bore no color.

“I think I’m stronger in some way, but I still don’t know what color I’m supposed to see.”

“You are,” he gently grasped at your sides and lifted you up out of the water, immediately ushering you into a towel, “much stronger that is.” He patted your skin dry , before grabbing a glass jar with oil in it.

“Smell.” He lifted it to your nose.

“Hmmm.” It was a warm boozy vanilla with a hint of something spicy. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

The silence was comforting as you let him cover you with the oil and knead it into your skin.

You can’t remember the last time you had felt so at ease.

He gave you a white sweater that had to be one of his and wrapped you in a blanket as you laid on your side next to him.

He kept his hands to himself and you hated it.

You longed to curl up closer into him and let him absentmindedly play with the locs of your hair. Much longer now that they’ve grown since you’ve died. With plenty of time spent avoiding Fontaine in isolation from him and his goonies, you learned to retwist them yourself.

“How were you turned?” He looked at you with such somber eyes. They were brown just as Fontaine’s but they were much much warmer. Soft things they were, almost wet.

Was she such a sad site? Did he pity her that much?

Was she something to be pitied?

“I’m not sure. I woke up like this one morning in a random bed away from my home and my family.”

His face scrunched together, not just in confusion but sadness.

“No,” he paused, searching for the right words.”Did you consent?”

“What?” You were offended.

Who would ask for this? Only a psychopath would ask for something like this.

“No!” You both winced at how harsh you sounded.

��I did.” He gazed into the distance, looking more somber.

“Why?” You hope you didn’t sound as in disbelief and rude as you felt.

“My… my wife was turned by some random vampire, and once she finally put the pieces together and figured out what happened to her and by whom, she told me, and I asked her to turn me.”

“Oh.”

“Once she did,” he glared at the wall, …

“I had a vision. A plan for our future. . . our family,” he quickly smiled before his face fell into something dark you couldn’t describe. “Generational wealth.” He turned to you with an indescribably smile. His teeth flashed, charmingly so, but his eyes were something else that did not match, “but this. I couldn’t even imagine anything like this getting in my way. Our way.”

“What happened to her?”

“She.. passed.” He lifted his hand to brush your cheek. “She wanted to, and I didn’t hold it against her. We’d been alive for so long.”

“Why didn’t you. . . pass with her?”

“You ask so many questions.”

Had you been alive you swore your face would have burned.

You averted your gaze and focused on his hand on your face.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s endearing,” he pulled you closer, nestling his head on top of yours. You now felt embarrassed for an entirely different reason. “It makes you seem so.. human.”

You sobbed.

“I didn’t ask for this. Any of it.”

“I know,” he placed his hand on the back of your head, suffocating you against his chest and you welcomed it. “I know.”

You will yourself to stop crying. You were done crying.

“I’m sorry this happened to you. When someone is turned it must be with consent. It’s a relationship built on trust. Without it, the bond between master and fledgling is painful for everyone involved

“I have no master!” You argued. “Fontaine.. doesn’t do that.”

“Then how does it work between him and everyone he’s turned.”

You sighed.

“I.. don’t really know. He and everyone in town was somehow turned by this old vampire and he compelled everyone to forget it and to be his slaves or test puppets or something,” you squeezed Abel’s back, holding him closer to you, burying your face drier into his chest, “Fontaine killed him even though he was begged not to, and somehow, they All lived and he was the new leader.”

Abel froze and you looked up at him.

“Is that bad?”

“N.. no.” He pursed his lips. “It’s just unheard of, impossible even.”

He pulled back from you for just a second, looking into your eyes. He moved his hand from your back to the temple of your forehead.

He was looking into your mind.

Fontaine used to try it all the time and you always forced him out somehow.

When he was done he held you even tighter than before. Staying silent.

You thought perhaps he was done talking and just wanted to spend time tucked against you, deciding to sleep and talk about the rest of it in the morning, but you felt his tears fall into your hairline.

You forgot just how horrific what happened to you was. You didn’t always hate him, but now you do. Not just him, but how you used to feel about him.

You’ll never forget that night, and you’ll never forgive him for what he did to you.

Another person, well, vampire, had experienced the story of how you came to die, and they wept just like you did.

You pushed your feelings deep down into the colorless energy within as you’ve always done, and you willed yourself to sleep, wishing for the chance to make Fontaine hurt as you now did.

“Uhoh, someone’s getting a little too turnt!”

“Leave me alone!” You laughed at your friend. “Finals are over, and I can now let loose!”

You might take school a little too seriously, but you came from a home where education was what saved your parents from poverty and they passed that same lesson on to you.

It might be strict to some, but as you grew older you only grew to believe it just as much as your parents.

You wouldn’t have anything if this school shit didn’t work.

You weren’t raised to hustle, you were raised to study, so that’s what you did.

But now it was time to party!

You didn’t always go out with your friends, so the nights you did, were always special. Your favorite food and drinks were always there when you were, and all your favorite people.

Usually you were really shy and reserved, but one or two drinks and the edge is off! You can let loose and maybe even dance. Who cares what anyone else thinks? You're having fun with the people you love and the people that love you!

You're making memories and forming your circle. You dreamed of the big fancy job you’d get one day to finally be able to take care of yourself and live in your own place!

“Uhhh.” Your friend called your name with a badly contained smile.

“Yeah?” You smiled back.

She smirked and then threw her arms around you with a laugh.

“Omg, what is it? Just spit it out already,” you laughed back.

“What would you say, if I told you there’s a guy here with a crush on you?” You blinked.

A crush? On you?

You believed you were pretty. You weren’t that insecure in yourself, people just tend to make it very clear that you aren’t their type.

But this was new!

Your stomach fluttered at the possibility.

“I don’t know!” You laughed again. “But whatever happens, happens!”

Your friend squeaked again and wrapped her arms around you once more.

She was so drunk. You smiled.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

You looked up to see cool dark skin, and a yellow gold smirk of a smile looking down at you.

“No, it’s okay.” You politely smiled back.

He was everything.

He liked that you listened. That you didn’t judge him off his looks.You like that he didn’t assume you were stuck up just because of how shy and introverted you could be.

Conversation was easy. Blissfully easy.

You both probably talked about anything and everything. The big personal life stuff to every miniscule thought and hobby.

He’d never seen Star Wars before.

You are a basic gym person at best.

Some music you both liked, some music he liked you never heard of and vice versa.

“How come you're not scared?”

“Scared of what?” You almost wanted to laugh but you held it in. You weren’t sure how he’d react if you did.

“Of me, or like,” he smacked his teeth, “you don’t act weird and stuff when I talk about what trips me up as a drug dealer or get that silent judgy look. People think that by not saying anything they're being polite, but they don’t know it shows on their face.”

“I don’t judge people based on their life or choices. Just by what’s on the inside. Not everyone has the same chances or choices. We’re all just trying to make it. No matter where we start in life, it’s all toward the same thing.” You stopped and pondered for a bit, searching for the right words. “It’s the government and shit they’ve gotten away with they have us all over the place. Until we can change the system or something like that. . . and yeah.” You ended dumbly.

“Yeah?” Fontaine was practically cackling at you. He laughed loudly. The sound coming from his belly, his low baritone sounds of joy flooded your senses. His yellow gold grillz shining in the low light of the room.

“Just, yeah.”

“Well excuse me for not being able to break down capitalism and its effects on the wealth gap and disparity in America and how it relates to race in one sentence. I've done it enough in school. Which is over now, and I'm tryna take a break from it all.”

You’d never felt so seen, so understood. You could see yourself in him, and he saw himself in you. You both had completely different lives, you had different ideas for almost everything except where it counts. Aside from the basic black experience and the trauma associated with that, or little quirks and social similarities they’ve grown fond of as a collective. There was something more.

A genuineness. A mirroring of the part of yourself that you couldn’t put into words. Tyrone was your person.

That’s why it was so easy to let him take you upstairs. To let his hands roam across the expense of your skin. His mouth was so warm. He lathes at your neck. Dragging his mouth down towards your chest. He sucks hard at your breast until your panting and writhing. He moves towards the next one, doing the same.

You can’t tell where your body ends or his mouth begins.

“You like that?” He looked down at you with half a pearly white smirk. When did he take his grills off? You didn’t know.

He was so calming. He crashed into you like a wave. When you first met on that couch you could feel him pulling you in towards him. The waters of his soul were cool and tranquil, and you’d happily float in the body of it all night. Now as things grew more intense as he mouthed at you, and you clutched at him just as desperately.

“Fontaine.” You moaned his name like a prayer.

He responded with a similar prayer of your name on his lips.

You were drowning in him. The wave of his entire being crashed against you, suffocating you as it flooded over and over your head until you were so far gone underneath the very waters of his essence, of him, you couldn’t breath.

“Who knew such a fat pussy could be so tight?” He lapped and lathed at your skin.

The slow growing ache within you was getting stronger and stronger. Your own desire was eating you alive, burning and festering within you. It was too much. Everything felt so good it hurt, so when he decided to bite down into your flesh, everything within you seized. Tightening in response, screaming for more.

“You like that,” he praised slowly into your neck, “i’an know you was like that.”

He pushed your legs up by your thighs. His hand sliding along your skin as if he was remolding you, reshaping you in his image before he destroys you with the very hands he pulled you out of the dirt with.

You whined, tears brimming in your eyes, but you couldn’t feel them. Fontain didn’t acknowledge them.

You wanted him to feel good. That’s all you wanted. You wanted to make him feel good so he didn’t leave you.

“—wanna be yours.” You mewled as he sucked harder at your neck once more until you made that sound again. He did it over and over again until you whined and panted for more, and he responded with another bite, much harder this time. His mouth staying on your skin much longer.

Waves and waves of pleasure flooded your senses. You arched your back to chase the feeling of his motuh, pressing yourself into him.

He released you with a wet slurp.

“You’on needa worry ‘bout that.” He pressed his dick against you, letting the head bump against your clit as he slid it along your folds. With each lazy movement your hips chased the feeling of his.

Fontaine responded by pulling his hips back, letting you feel every thick inch as he slowly pulled back until only the tip was inside of you before thrusting back into you. He set a slow enduring pace. Each heavy thrust of his hips caused a moan to fall from your lips.

He was branding you. With every thrust of his body into yours, with his hands on your body, with his mouth biting into your flesh. The sounds of his mouth on you matched the wet sounds of his slips slamming into yours.

He wasn’t just consuming you, burning you, he was molding you. Reshaping you not only into a new being but combining your souls. Molting them into one another, you didn’t know where he began and you ended, and you wanted more. No, you needed more. You needed him. You wanted to live for him. Exist only for him.

So you chased every feeling of his body, matching each and every movement of his hips, arched your back further to get that much closer.

It was a night you never forgot. A night you couldn’t forget. Each moment of bliss was now remembered with a matching thought of pain. With every new height of pleasure you didn’t know was humanly possible was now replaced with the thought that every single peak you reached was one step away from your life, your family, and what you used to be at your very core.

A robbery of your humanity.

But you didn’t know that when you woke up in a bed that wasn’t yours. Your phone nowhere to be found.

You were scared and alone.

But you remembered your night with Fontaine.

He took you away from everything, and you didn’t even get the chance to confront him about it while you threw up day and night. While you tossed and turned every waking moment with a headache that wouldn’t go away. While your stomach started to gnaw at your flesh from the inside out caving in on itself. You were hot and cold at the same time and always sweating. Everything started to blur and the sun hurt.

It didn’t help that the room was full of windows.

You had to resort to burying yourself in a hoard of blankets.

But when the moon rose high, you took your chance.

In your feeble weak state, you managed to travel around the foreign town you learned was called the Glenn. Hundred and thousands of miles away from your home.

You managed to find someone nice enough to talk to you.

“You a’right? You need to sit down? You wanta glass a’ water?”

“Please.” Your voice was horse and meak. You didn’t want to be so trusting of all these people you didn’t know, but they had to be better than Fontain or whoever the fuck he was.

You cleared your throat.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

You looked at the date, it could not be right. A chill ran down your spine and filled your entire body.

It’s been 10 years.

You couldn’t have been asleep for ten years! Were you somehow drugged out of your mind? Is that how? What has that sick fuck been doing to your body while you’ve been out of conscience for ten fucking years.

Fear and bile rose in your body and you threw up.

“Aye what the fuck!” You didn’t see what happened next as black clouded the corners of your vision and the world went dark.

However, you were still there.

And in a bath of darkness you focused on your grief and your anger.

You don’t know what has happened to you, but you do know one thing. Fontaine was going to die by your hands, and that thought of comfort let you slip into your first slumber of peace.

-

Yoyo treaded lightly around the corner. She stood still not to draw attention to herself. She watched as the slick black ornate car pulled up to the side of the restaurant. She watched as a man with heavily styled black hair and tan skin stepped out and handed off his keys. Impeccably dressed with a heavy wool coat too match.

“Shoulda went for a black one. Would have been real fresh too.”

Yo-yo bit the inside of her cheek.

“I mean the taupe beige isn’t that bad of a look. It kinda grows on you the more you look at it. But if he really wanted to ste—“

“Nigga, don’t nobody give a damn about his fucking coat!” She hissed.

Why Fontaine made her bring Slick along, she would never know.

“Slick opened his mouth to say something smart, but Yo-yo quickly cut him off.

“Shut up! There she is!”

They watched as he opened the door to the other side.

You stepped out in a gorgeous silk red number that had a leg slit and a low back. You had a white fur shawl that covered your shoulders. Gold dripping around your neck, ears, and a few of your fingers. There had to be some diamonds sprinkled about somewhere. With that type of money, there had to.

Situation aside, Yo-yo and Slick both let out sounds of approval.

“Shit, if I could get all that, I’d leave Fontaine sorry ass too.” Yo-yo murmured.

“As a man with certain avenues and multitudes, I can not hate another player. If you got it, you got it.”

Slick snapped his fingers, the rings on his hands clacking annoyingly so, and their clothes changed.

“What the fuck am I wearing?”

“What are you complaining for? He smacked his teeth. That’s what you usually wear.”

Yo-yo would have appreciated the little yellow thing she wore anywhere else, but not now.

“You saw what they were wearing! This place is classy! It’s nice as shit and they are not about to let a couple of raggedy asses in looking like this.”

“You see that’s your problem!” He raised a finger and Yo-yo had to interrupt him.

“Nigga, I know you not putting a finger in my face!”

“Will you calm yo’ ass down! All I’m tryna say is,” he dusted off his clothes, letting a harsh breath through his nose, “Fontaine made me come with you for a reason. It don’t matter what we wear, I can get us in.”

“Mhmm, you better.”

“Abel.” You warily said his name.

He guided you through a crowd with a hand tentatively placed on your lower back. Plush and luxurious with low thundering music. People were everywhere. But if you really focused and stilled your mind a bit, you could tell who was a vampire, and there were many, and who was not.

Abel was about to answer you, but a young light skinned man had interrupted the steady pace Abel and you were making through the crowd.

“H-hi.” He said softly and sweetly before cupping your face with a hand. He had to be around your age if you were human, boyish features made it too hard to tell, even if he had a beard. Close shaven and shaped well to match his face. . His eyes were a large bright brown as he battered them shyly at you. He had full lips that looked so soft and his lashes were so long.

“Um, hi?” You blinked, not sure what to do. Too many people were crowded around in their own world to care about what was transpiring between you.

You moved his hand from your cheek, and he took it as a sign to move his face closer to yours. You stiled. Even the slightest of movements would have made your lips touch.

“Can you bite me?” His voice was a sultry pant, almost a whine.

Blood rushed through your senses. You noticed it now.

The smell of it in the room. The humans straying around from vampire to vampire.

Something on your face must have changed. Maybe your eyes flashed because his lips parted just a tad more and his eyes almost rolled back.

You leaned in closer, your lips grazing his neck before you felt Abel’s hand slide from your back to your arm, roughly pulling you back.

“She’s on a diet.” He didn’t yell or raise his voice, but his tone was clear cut and dry with plenty of bite.

He raised your hand to reveal the glowing purple glow stick bracelet.

“Oh.” The stranger pouted his lips, causing a rush of something to burn deeply within you, “well,” he fiddled with his fingers, “when you're not on a diet can you come back? I’m here almost every night.”

You turned to Abel, not sure what was happening.

“She’ll think about it.” He patted him on the shoulder before placing his hand at your back once more and led you through the crowd.

Going up steps, he let his hand fall from you, but you couldn’t find it in you to step away from him.

“This is a nightclub for vampires?”

“And humans.” Abel said casually before stopping someone and ordering a few drinks.

“Wristbands are color coded.” He led you to a cornered booth before guiding you in and sliding after you.

“Red for feeding vampires, green for those willing to be bitten, yellow for humans who don’t, and purple for vampires who are on a diet.”

You looked at your purple wristband with a frown. A gnawing sensation swelling within you.

“But I—“

“— have had more than enough.” He sighed as he saw your face fall, “look. Bloodlust is a hard thing to come back from but enough time has passed where you aren’t jumping on any and everything with a pulse.”

You nodded at the reason in his words.

“Who are we here to meet anyway?”

Abel twisted the ring around his finger and crossed one of his legs over the other one.

“The vampire who helped me after me and my wife were turned.”

As the waiter placed down your drinks, a figure appeared out of nowhere. Eerily still and quiet as people bustled to and fro around him. His gaze fixed on you and Abel.

His hollow black eyes reflected the light and surrounding colors in a strange effect you could barely understand. His equally dark and plain clothing was just as off putting.

“He is ready for you.”

Abel took a quick swig of his drink and ushered you out of the booth.

He held you close to him as you both followed the strange man.

“Let me do the talking.” Abel whispered in your ear. “If he tells you to do something, just do it and don’t protest too much.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but Abel rose an eyebrow at you as his mouth twisted into a tight thin line.

“Most importantly,” he whispered in your face as you both climbed the steps to an intricate door to a room that looked over everything, “follow my lead.” His eyes flashed in the familiar old gold you’ve grown comfortable gazing at, but in this moment it made your veins run cold.

“Abel,” a man who looked strangely familiar to him, stood up from behind his desk to dutifully shake Abel’s hand with a formal and polite smile, “it’s been so long. To what do I owe this rare pleasure of a visit from you. Everything is well at the office?”

“Yes, everything is fine, but I have a request to ask of you.”

At that moment, the man looked at you and his eyebrows rose into his hairline.

“I see.” He corrected himself with another polite smile and motioned towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Let’s discuss this in a more comfortable manner.”

He and Abel looked alike, but they couldn’t appear more different.

This man’s hair was much curlier, but does this mean Abel’s hair could be equally as curly?

He was turned much later in life. The evidence in the salt and pepper of his hair and the thick beard that suited his features.

Despite their few differences there was so much they had in common. In the formal attire they both seemed to respect and their equally formal mannerisms, but it was clear this man held some sense of superiority.

Not only in how he moved and acted, but how Abel, the most powerful vampire you had recently met, treaded carefully around this one.

It would have caught you by surprise if you weren’t feeling suffocated by a strange yet powerful aura.

It had to be coming from him.

“Forgive my rudeness, let me introduce myself. I am Duke Leto Atreides although not quite a Duke anymore. That was quite some time ago.”

You cleared your throat and told him your name, introducing yourself just as politely.

“It’s no trouble at all.”

Leto looked at you a moment too long with an odd look, like you had shocked him somehow, before his face fell back into its usual demeanor.

You looked at Abel to see if you had done anything wrong, but he gave you a small nod to reassure you that you had not. However, his face seemed to hold a look of concern or wary at how the Duke was looking at you.

“What is it you came to ask for?” He cleared his throat before turning his attention back towards Abel.

“Well, it’s not so much a favor for me, but for her.” Abel crossed one leg over the other and corgilly clasped his hands together in his lap.

“She’s a fledgling.” He paused, licking his lips and dipping his head down momentarily. His eyes briefly glowed before he slightly shook his head, “she was unwillingly turned.”

The Duke’s head snapped towards you with a frown. His expression of formal politeness was no more. It was quickly succeeded by a cordial disdain, regarded with frown, on your behalf.

“Impossible.” He placed his chin in the knuckles of his hand. “Who would do such a thing? The event of someone unwillingly turned surviving is rare.”

“What!”

You violently twisted in your chair to face Abel and he stilled you with a hard look and an arm across your body to keep you from speaking and moving more.

“That is exactly my understanding as well, but she is alive and well and recently recovering from a bout of bloodlust.”

Leto stood up with a look of thought, and Abel followed suit.

You rise with a glare, your eyes looking between them both. You tried to keep your composure, but you were failing on every level. You could feel your anger coursing through your veins. Whatever magic that had your heart thumping surged throughout your body. Your heart beating faster and faster until you couldn’t feel it in your chest. It was racing at such a speed you couldn’t hear and your vision started to blur.

Leto had two hands on the side of your face, looking into your eyes as you stood frozen in your rage. When did he start talking to you? When did he put his hands on you?

“W—“

“— calm down.” His eyes glowed into yours. An iridescent gray blue. Almost a dark indigo of sorts.

It made you think of the rain. A thunderstorm and how before its clouds burst, the lightning cracks. Seconds after, it’s followed by thunder pounding. How once it ends, there’s an eerily still that falls on everything. The dark clouds recede and a bright and sunny day materializes in a bath of melancholy of not knowing what had just happened and why.

It didn’t calm you down, but it slowed your heart in your chest, something within you was still seething at him.

He didn’t weep for you as Abel did.

His thumb softly brushed at your cheek as he studied your face. A calmness bloomed across his face. His polite superiority is gone, revealing just a man— a vampire.

He looked like he found something he once longed for. Whatever it was, he now found in you.

You looked over to Abel. His expression is neutral,, revealing nothing to you.

“Um, Duke…sir?” You cleared your throat.

He practically leapt back. Except it happened before you could blink and he kept his hands awkwardly in front of him.

“Ah, yes.” He dusted off himself and brushed his clothes. “Forgive me. I got carried away.”

He looked at you once more, but now as if he knew you.

“Is there anything you could do to help her?” Abel's voice was strained with a cordial air, clipped with an agitation.

You reached out to him. Brushing your hands through his hair to rest momentarily on his cheek.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. His brow furrowing and his mouth twisting to one side before he slightly moved away from your hand.

His face was back to normal, but a nagging feeling within you told him he wasn’t. It made you ache with a need to dissuade whatever it is. You wanted to repay him for all the moments he’s calmed you down and made you feel warm these last few days.

Being with Abel made you realize just how much distress Fontaine had you under. How rage got you out of bed in the morning and hatred got you through the day.

Being with Abel made you realize just how exhausting it was.

You were still learning how to exist in a calm state. How to let go of your thoughts and anger and take things one at a time.

“I can help break her tie.”

You shared a look with Abel. Your eyebrows rose into your hairline and your mouth agape. Leto’s words seemed to put Abel at ease. He unbuttoned one of the buttons of his suit jacket and held a fraction of a smile before he turned to face him.

“It will be very painful, but I—“

He paused. His ears tinging red as he cleared his throat and averted eye contact from you.

“May I,” he licked his lips, “may I have a taste of your blood?”

You looked into his eyes. It was a mistake.

They glowed with a dark unrelenting gaze. His bashfulness was no more, either way, heat rushed throughout all your senses. Your eyes fluttered as you looked anywhere but him.

“Yes.” You quickly stuttered out. “It’s—

“Are you sure?” He interrupted you and moved his head into your line of sight. Suddenly, filling up your personal space.

You blinked repeatedly and stared dumbly in response.

No one had ever asked.

You nodded silently and he only raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yes.” You said softly but with more determination than before.

With careful hands he moved your head to the side.

Burning, his mouth was burning you.

His mouth felt like hot coals being placed on your neck. He cradles your head towards his chest as if he had done it a million times. His mouth moves along your skin with the fury of a thunderstorm, swollen with the humidity of the summer air. Unrelenting and smothering, he finally bit down, something within you breaking. The evidence of its lightning touch was the thundering of your heart in your chest.

You don’t know what to do with your hands. You run them along his chest, his back. You push and pull at the fabric of his shirt, of him. All you could smell was him.

He was all you could feel.

Slowly raising his mouth from your skin, you both pant with heaving chests as you watch the small trail of blood that connects from his mouth to your skin.

Without missing a beat, he laps at the small holes left on your skin. You can’t help the moan that spills out of you, and he closes his eyes.

You slide your hands from his back into his hair.

Desperate to pull him in once more.

When he opens them, neither of you say a word. The glowing storm clouds of his eyes transform into something so dark it’s a wonder they still glow at all.

Without breaking eye contact, he swiped his tongue along his lips to taste more of your blood. Your eyes dart across his face, desperate to catch each movement.

He moved closer to you, mouthing along your neck and sniffed deeply at your skin, pushing his nose firmer against you. He breathed out of his mouth. The warmth of his breath searing into your pores.

You couldn’t take it.

“One more,” he panted into your neck. “Just one more.”

“Please.” You practically pant back into his mouth.

You aren’t aware of much of anything at this point. You're lost in tides of air and whirring winds and you aren’t sure you want it to end.

As he pulls up to you once more, you surge towards him in unison, unaware of just how much strength you were using.

He makes a small oomf sound as you thud into his chest. He puts his hands at your hips and holds you tentatively.

Your mouth clamps onto his neck with just as much fervor. You felt more desperate than he did. You felt like you weren’t as sensual. That you sucked and slurped at his skin like some rabid creature, but the sounds coming from you told you just how wrong you were.

His pants were growing short, sharper, almost transitioning into a low keening wine.

“Fuck.” He whimpered into your ear before pulling you off of him by your hair. An action you would have taken into offense if it was anyone else, but right now after what you both had done, you don’t know what the lines of inappropriate and appropriate were anymore.

“And here I thought I was the only woman for you.”

You both took a step away from each other. Leto straightened his posture and clasped his hands formally behind his back.

You stood wide eyed.

She had your face. Only a bit older in comparison, but you knew your own face when you saw it.

“I think it is past due time for Abel to have another lover.” A man had interrupted. And not just any man, but a man who was the spitting image of Fontaine, save for the African accent and no beard. His hair was much tamer in style, and he had an equal air of superiority that Leto carried, and he seems like the type to not play about it.

He was better than everyone, and he wanted anyone who crossed his path to know it. He barely made eye contact with anyone else in the room. The only reason he seemed interested in your existence was because of how you and Leto seemed lost in one another moments before.

“Forgive me, my love.” Leto cleared his throat and avoided eye contact with you as well. His ears tinging pink before he continued. “I assure you I have not taken up a lover of any kind.”

“No?'' She stepped closer to Leto and ran a hand through his hair.

His shoulders fell into a more casual posture, and his expression softened.

“She’s a fledgling.”

“I think it's time we made our leave.”

You turned towards Abel.

His voice did not reveal his feelings, but from the look in his eyes and the slight frown on his face, it was clear how he felt. A storm of guilt brewed in the pit of your stomach. You had only been with him for a short period of time, but you couldn't help the feeling that you committed some type of betrayal. However, not out of some loyalty, that he was some sort of only being you could be tied to, or that he was some sort of lover, but you felt some type of way about having that moment in front of him.

You still would have done it. You dont regret it in the slightest, but he shoulnd’t have been here to see it.

You sighed. Not caring to hide the agitation in your voice.

“I would love for someone to explain to me what that means instead of acting like I don't exist.”

Everyone turned to look atr Abel for some reason, and that irritated you even further. The rage boiled over within you. You could no longer see who or what was in the room, only what you were feeling.

“I know, through the magic, it feels like she's been a vampire for ten years, but if you’ve heard her story, it's only been for a short amount of time .” Abel said through his teeth.

“Well. . .” the woman who looked like you started. She eyed you up and down hungrily, “If she currently doesn’t belong to anyone. . “

“No.” Abel grabbed your arm and moved you behind him.

“I only made an agreement with him, and I don't have any allegiance to you whatsoever.”

“I understand her position of not being taught the proper edicate for how things work amongst us, but for you Abel there is no excuse!” Leto raised his voice. His eyes a startling eerie glow of a stormy blue-grey.

A wave of energy would have knocked you off your feet if you didn't grab Abel’s arm in time. He was much stronger than you were, so he didn’t seem to be affected by whatever invisible wave was swirling around in the room. He uncharacteristically glared at Leto. His apparent disrespectful attitude unwavering.

The man who had the same face of Fontaine looked you and Abel down with a pathetic disdain.

‘Where is the other one?” He asked as if he was offended that a copy of himself existed.

“What other one?” Abel spat. His eyes closing and his shoulders scrunching up as he waved his arms.

“What the fuck,” he yelled, his fangs bared and his eys glowing a dazzingly dangerous yet beatiful yellow, “is going on? What aren't you telling me?”

“Abel did you not tell them?” the woman with your face smacked her teeth and looked back at Abel with a glare.

“I was getting to it.” He looked much more sympathetic.

“It looked much more like you were about to put your tongue down another woman’s throat if you ask me.”

“Enough!’ she turned back to give the man a look. “Does it look like I care? If you can’t stand to be in the same room as Leto so badly, then you go find Jay!”

He smacked his teeth with a frown, and then suddenly looked over to you.

The sound and look on his face at that moment made him look so much like Fontaine. Anger rushed through your senses once more.

“Wipe that look off your face.’ He scoffed at you before making his way out the door, “I promise you, I hold no resemblance to whoever this other vampire may be.”

He spared one more look at Abel. This time with much less disgust.

“Follow me.”

Abel looked towards you instead.

“Go.” Leto commanded and Abel glared at him.

Silently, he followed. Not bothering to hide his frown.

You eyed him trepidly.

What was all this about?

-

Yo-yo didn’t like the sight of this.

A woman who looked just like you but at least ten years older walked in. Behind her, a man that looked just like Fontaine.

He kept his hair in a sizable fro on his head with a proper edge up that was faded at the temples. A smaller amount of facial hair that was way better groomed than Fontaine would ever attempt.

He was just as fancily clad as the other two men that looked alike.

“This is bad. She’s drunk that other vampire’s blood.” Slick whispered into her ear.

“Shut the fuck up before someone hears us in here!” She whisper-shouted at him.

They had snuck in, but whatever glamor Slick had placed on them had only lasted so long.

Yo-yo chewed on her lip as she watched you all sit down on a large couch. This vampire was just as strong as the one called Leto. Not only that, but she also had your face.

That meant big things. Things they couldn’t change.

A prophecy or some shit.

“Is that why you kept looking at me so strangly?” Yo-yo watched you ask. “Because you know. . .her?”

“He’s only ever met me like this.”

You nodded. Not really looking at either of them, making the woman frown in sympathy.

“My name is Shante.”

“Why do you all have our faces?”

Shante shared a look with Abel.

“Straight to the point I see.” She smiled. “I was the same way when it was my first time. I know it must have been hard and confusing.”

“Hard and confusing is an understatement.” You huffed bitterly.

She let out a short sigh, more out of nerves and not frustration.

You looked up at her oddly.

Yo-yo could only wonder why.

“I won’t hold you long or beat around the bush.”

“I think that’s best.” Abel clasped her hand in his.

“If you want to get technical, we are the originators of these faces and you all are our dopplegangers.”

You nodded, wringing your hands in your lap. “I think I know what those are.”

“You're always going to have a Leto and a Ghezo.”

Shante leveled at you with a serious tone.

This made you leap up with a hiss, baring your fangs.

“I don’t need Fontaine!”

“But you do.” Shante stood up and hissed back at you. “Without him you will never know peace. If you kill him, you might as well kill yourself too!”

“Good!” You screamed! Your voice sends a shock of power throughout the room making everyone still, even Yo-yo and Slick.

“What?” You broke the silence. “What’s so surprising about that after everything I’ve been through?”

“Forgive me,” Shante abruptly sat. “I didn’t know things were that bad between you.”

You sat with a self assured huff. Appearing more calm now that no one was about to tell you to get over your emotions.

“What makes you so sure, I need him?” You swallowed, looking straight ahead and not making eye contact with anyone. “What makes you think I could get over it?”

But everyone knew what you were really asking.

“I once was mad just as you were.” Shante said softly.

You looked at her with watery eyes.

“I was turned just like you.” Shante looked at her and Leto’s hands clasped together in her lap. “Ghezo had made a deal with someone. They promised him an eternity of power. . . But they also warned him about the cost. The people he would lose and now he’d never get close to anyone.”

She drew in a shaky breath and you cooled closer to her. She smiled softly. A tear falling down her cheek. Leto wiped at it with his thumb.

“He talked with all of us, his wives. Some said yes without thinking, but I said no.” She looked up at you, with a stream of tears falling down her face.

Yo-yo wiped a tear of her own as she watched you both cry. Slick put a hand on her shoulder, and she didn’t brush it away.

“I was in love with being human and the idea of cheating death didn’t sit right with me. Long story short, I woke up like this, against my will.”

“What did you do?” You whispered.

“I left him. I left my home. . . And then I found Leto.”

“So. . . You stayed with him and for some reason just forgave Ghezo?”

“I wish I could tell you more, but you and Abel have to find your own way. . . And Fontaine.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

Yo-yo couldn’t hear anymore.

“I think we got what we came for.”

Slick didn’t say anything. Nodding, he snapped his fingers, and they were both gone.

[megamindsecretlair]

Midnight Sin - Chapter 5

Chapter 4 Chapter 6

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Long exposition that has some smut in the middle. Fingering (fem receiving), cursing, use of N word, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Mentions of blood, overstimulation. The concept of "rolling" is brought up when Tyrone is able to hypnotize reader, but it is consensual. Exhibition kink if you squint. Non-inclusive language used.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. Tyrone invites you onto a mysterious date to introduce you more to his world.

Word Count: 4,742k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Well alright nah, I had to swerve on back to my first love. There's some more backstory thrown into this, I hope ya'll paying attention. How has this list gotten so long? I love ya'll. I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap

Tyrone was being mysterious as hell. He had told you to be free tonight and that he would pick you up a little after sunset. He refused to tell you where you were going or what you would be doing and you had no idea what to wear.

“Wear anything you’re comfortable in,” he had told you and nothing more. 

Now, you were in his car. He was dressed to the nines in a silky black suit, black shirt, skinny black tie and a red pocket square. You felt horribly underdressed in jeans and a long-sleeved white T-shirt.

He didn’t let you change. You were fighting yourself from asking a thousand questions. Why was he dressed so fancy and you weren’t allowed to? Was he just coming from somewhere?

You had to bite your cheek to keep from firing them off. Tyrone never gave you any reason to doubt him. He was a vampire, sure, but you’d yet to see that particular side to him. You weren’t sure how you would react. Horror? Attraction? Who knew?

He held your hand while he drove, asking about your day. His thumb stroked across yours and your belly flipped with every pass. You stumbled over your boring ass day, dealing with work. Bunch of lazy people coddled by management, what else was new? 

Tyrone pulled into a parking structure, but you weren’t sure what kind. When he parked and opened the door for you, he had a smirk on his face. He pulled on his sunglasses and headed inside the doors. 

It looked like…a boutique. An expensive ass boutique. The kind with perfume pumping out of the vents. Enough to be noticeable but subtle enough that it didn’t irritate your senses. The carpet was a soft cream color that felt like you were walking on clouds. There were a few racks back here, filled with long and flowing dresses. Fancy event dresses. 

The back section of the boutique had been closed off with a soft pale pink curtain. As soon as you got further inside, you noticed dressing rooms and a rack of matching shoes to the dresses.

“Tyrone?” You asked.

At the sound of your voice, some tall, thin, brunette stepped from the shadows holding a champagne flute. She handed it to you with a small smile. You took it but you were just out of your element here.

“I want to take you somewhere tonight. Be more involved in my world than just my parties,” he said. He nodded to the woman who left and returned, rolling a clothing rack your way.

“There’s no way my size is in here,” you said. 

You couldn’t help yourself from walking over to the rack, running your fingers through the fabric. Silk, satin, chiffon, lace. You ran over the many textures and colors already imagining trying to squeeze your ass in one of them. 

“This store caters exclusively to us and all sizes,” Tyrone said.

You laughed and turned to face him. “You just think of everything, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “Try to. I want to spoil somebody. I want to spoil you,” he said. 

You shook your head. “There’s no way I can afford this or accept it as a gift. This is…way too much. I’m not after your money,” you said.

You had taken care of yourself all your life, because who else was going to do it? You didn’t like handouts or charity. 

Tyrone looked towards the sales clerk. “We’d like some privacy please,” he said. The sales clerk nodded robotically and left through the pale curtains, out into the boutique proper. Tyrone walked over to you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest.

He took a deep breath and kissed your cheek. “I want you to spend my money. I want you to spend so much of it, the bank sends several ex-forces to shut us down. I already have more than I can spend in a thousand lifetimes,” he said. His deep, rumbling voice only sent shivers down your thighs.

“Tyrone…” you said. You were trying to think of a good argument for why you couldn’t let him pamper you. This just…wasn’t you. You liked him for him and that was all that mattered.

Tyrone’s hands slid across your hips until he was unbuttoning your jeans. Your soft, lacy panties were moved aside as Tyrone circled your clit. He hummed, finding you wet already. He dipped his hand lower to tease your entrance, gathering up more of your arousal to ease his fingers around your clit once more.

A soft moan escaped you. One hand moved over his but you made no indication for him to stop. Your other hand gripped his other forearm. This was so wrong and dirty, getting fingered in a boutique where the salespeople could hear you or walk in on you at any moment.

You never thought you had an exhibition kink, but here you were. Tossing your ass in the air for his vampire buddies to see and now for sales clerks. Tyrone licked your neck, right over your artery and you moaned a little louder.

You’d blame this on your morbid curiosity into the macabre. It turned you on a little too much that a creature capable of draining you dry was licking all over your neck like you were an ice cream cone. The push and pull between hunger, death, and sex intoxicated you. The way you were both a treat to eat and a treat to ravish. 

Wasn’t it the French that called orgasms, “la petite mort”? The little death? 

You felt a little like dying whenever you were with Tyrone. Maybe it was the nature of the vampire. Maybe it was because you were terrified of dying and here he offered a solution. If you asked, would he make you like him? Could you handle being a vampire? 

He moved his hand faster, flicking your clit. You bit your lip to keep from moaning too loudly, too harshly. He moved his left hand up to cover your mouth while he rubbed and flicked on your clit until you were putty in his hands.

Until you were drooping, knees buckling, unable to keep standing. Tyrone bent and rolled with you but held you up. Held you open. You were so fucking close. So fucking close to that sweet hit of ecstasy.

“Say you’ll take all my money. Every last cent. That you’ll let me spoil you. That I get to treat you like my little doll?” He asked.

His hand slowed. He moved his left hand away from your mouth. “Wait, wait,” you said. You moved and gyrated your hips, not wanting to give up how close you were to cumming.

“What do I wanna hear?” He asked.

“Please,” you said. You were desperate to cum. Your body was on fire.

“I need to hear it, little doll,” he said in your ear. He finished with a small lick to the shell of your ear.

“Okay, okay, okay, please,” you moaned. You were right on the edge. Right on the edge of that cliff staring down the abyss. You only needed a push.

Tyrone chuckled and returned to kissing your neck, rubbing his fangs across your artery. His hand moved faster, flicking your clit until you were moaning and riding your orgasm. His hand returned to your mouth to cover some of it, but between the smell of sex and your noises, it was obvious to anyone what you were doing back here.

You shivered and jerked as you came down, slumping against him. He held you while you recovered. “I can’t try on dresses now,” you said, pouting.

“There’s a bathroom right over there. Nice try,” he said. He replaced your panties and zipped you up, leaving your button undone. He tapped your ass to get you moving towards the bathroom so you could clean yourself up. Bastard. You heard him licking his fingers.

Afterwards, you were fresh and clean. Tyrone had found a plush chair to relax into. He was on his phone, scowling, but when you entered, he put his phone away.

“Which dresses do you like?” He asked.

You playfully scowled as you looked over the vibrant colors. There was black, green, purple, and red to match his pocket square. You chose the red one, flaring it out over yourself. It was a sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline. It had your name written all over it.

You picked out a few more, a blue one and a purple one. “Try them on, I wanna see you in ‘em,” he said.

He really wasn’t going to make this easy on you. Fuck it. If you were going to date a vampire, you might as well receive all the perks. You were dying for him to roll you again. Spending his money was just a part of that. You deserved it, didn’t you? There was no law that said you had to play the demure card.

If you were a gold digging heartless bitch, that was one thing. You weren’t. You were an asshole sure, a bitch most definitely, but heartless? No. You simply curated which fucks to give. 

You walked towards the dressing room, clutching the red dress when Tyrone stopped you. “Naw, out here,” he said. 

“Really?” You asked.

“I wanna see everything,” he said. 

You smiled. Maybe he was still rolling you because you felt sinful, naughty, as you pushed your jeans down your hips. You turned so that he could watch the material slide over your ass. Tyrone leaned on one elbow, fingers against his face, his pinky resting against his big, sexy lips. 

You couldn’t see his eyes, but you watched him in the mirror. His attention was definitely on you. 

You worked off your shirt and bra, tossing it at him. He caught it with his free hand and rested it against his knee. That sight alone made your knees weak. You loved that you were nearly naked and he was still dressed up. 

You shimmied into the red dress and moved closer to the mirror. It was a mirror that had soft lighting around it so you looked at all of your angles in the three way mirror. It wasn’t zipped yet but already felt amazing on your skin. You zipped it partially, just to see how it looked and you were amazed by how sexy you looked. Your necklace even sort of matched, the small, single pearl dangling against your neck.

You turned to Tyrone who grinned, flashing his fangs. “Irresistible,” he said.

Your cheeks warmed from his praise and you turned your head this way and that. “I like it, but I want to see the others,” you said.

Tyrone glanced at his watch. “We have time,” he said.

You tried on the other two dresses which were just as gorgeous. Different styles and fabrics and you nearly moaned when you wore the purple one. However, you felt like the red dress matched you better and it matched his suit without looking too much like you were on a prom date.

The sales clerk reentered as you were slipping on the red one once more. “We’ll take all three,” Tyrone said.

You squealed and clapped your hands together. Then, you went over to the rack. Your shoe size. How he knew such things was beyond you. Maybe his vision allowed him to see your shoe size one day. Maybe after so many years of being alive, he just knew by sight alone.

“Tell me about your family,” Tyrone said as you perused the offerings. Some were a little too high for you. You wanted to be sexy, not fall flat on your ass.

“What do you wanna know?” You asked.

“I wanna know everything,” he said.

You giggled. “Not much to tell. There’s not much of us left. I come from a small family of a small family. I didn’t grow up with a lot of cousins or siblings. I have an annoying ass little brother and a mom. My dad died when I was younger, back in high school. In fact, we joke that there’s a family curse,” you said.

You selected a pair of heels, putting them on to get the full effect. It added to your height, but not so much that you felt unsteady. 

“What do you mean by family curse?” Tyrone asked.

“The women in my family tend to die young in freak accidents. My grandma was one of the oldest in the family for the longest,” you said. It still hurt you terribly thinking of your grandmother. No one knew her secret and she didn’t write it down anywhere. 

Your mother was just as afraid of dying as you were. There was no way to prove a curse, but as far back as anyone could tell, your matrilineal line dwindled each generation. Fewer daughters were getting born. Your grandma was an only girl, your mother an only girl, and now you.

“Why do you ask?” You asked. You went back to the shoe rack picking out two more pairs of shoes to match your dresses. Your friends were going to scream in jealousy when they saw these. Especially London’s bitch ass. You couldn’t tell them you were dating a vampire, but you could tell them you were dating a rich club owner.

You smiled evilly in the mirror as you imagined what London would say. How she would try her best to act like she wasn’t hating. She could be happy if she left Carlos’ ass alone. 

“I’m trynna see if you have witches in your family,” Tyrone said. 

You giggled. “Ah, no. I think we’re the total opposite of witches,” you said. Witches would know how to fight off a death curse. 

Your thoughts turned towards being a vampire. You could do it. You could spare a future child from living without her mother. There was no rhyme or reason to how the women in your family died. Some were burned alive, drowned, at a young age, or at an old age. That was the scariest part.

You and your mother fought like hell not to be paranoid. To live your lives to the fullest. If you became a vampire, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. You weren’t sure how you would explain it to your mom, but she’d have to be happy in the long run right? 

“You sure there’s no magic in your blood at all?” He asked.

You walked away from the mirror, moving to sit in his lap. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “What’s wrong?” You asked.

“I just want to learn more about you, promise,” he said. He smiled. “Ready?” 

You nodded. Luckily, your hair was already up and didn’t look half bad. You were glad you opted to put some care into it. You’d have been mortified to walk into that event looking crazy. Like lipstick on a pig. Wearing nice clothes but everything else to the wayside.

After getting the bags in the car, Tyrone took you to a makeup store. You told him it was backwards, that you do hair and makeup first and then put on the dress. He smiled. “You just focus on staying sexy and I’ll worry about everything else,” he said.

You shrugged. You weren’t going to argue. After, you were finally on your way to whatever event it was that Tyrone was attending.

He pulled into a fancy hotel in Downtown LA, the sprawling entrance trying its hardest to compete with a nicer city. Still, it was gorgeous with a fountain out front. Tyrone stepped out and opened the door for you.

You really did feel like a doll. He helped you out and you promptly took his arm. Heads turned in your direction as Tyrone handed off his keys to the valet. Yeah, you knew you looked damn good. Like celebrities walking the red carpet. 

Tyrone led you towards a banquet hall. Inside, there were hundreds of people dressed up and rubbing elbows. It was like a sea of beautiful Black people. There was a spattering of white people, but the room screamed Black excellence. Was everyone here a vampire? Couldn’t be if you were here. You doubted they’d want a human knowing their inner workings.

You looked towards a banner for answers and found that it was some type of medical charity. You looked closer and noticed that it was for a children’s charity. Aww. You looked at Tyrone with a knowing smile.

“Like I said, I have enough money to buy the world ten times over. Good to do something meaningful with it. Not to mention, it keeps the hospitals on our side. The ones we don’t own won’t look too hard at us,” he said.

You shook your head, laughter spilling from your lips. “Why is that not surprising?” 

You needed to ask if there was some type of donor class you could take. An introduction to vampirism and how there was one on every corner. Your neighbor could be one. Your night time nurse could be one. They weren’t always the bloodthirsty demons the media made them out to be.

You were sure there was probably thousands of acres of land out there covering up vampire kills. You were sure that with one look, they could rip your head off and suck your innards. But no one came after you just because they thought your blood smelled that good. No one was rolling your mind on the regular to lure you into a trap.

There were rules and you wanted to know those rules. You wanted to know everything. If you were going to do what your mind was thinking, you wanted to be well-informed. 

“This is a vampire event. Not only are we discussing roll out donations to hospitals, we’re also keeping up with the lastest noise from law enforcement, witches, and vampire hunters. The modern age has made it easier than ever to hide but also to expose us. Vampires are cool now, you’ve learned to stop being afraid of us,” he said. He grinned at your expression, no doubt smelling the spike of fear that went through you.

You wondered if he could also smell that hit of attraction. Did he know that the thought of being at his mercy was a turn on? 

He removed his glasses since he was among friends. The door you had entered through was covered up by thick curtains. No one would know that there was a vampire party in this room.

“Since it’s sort of informal, donors are allowed to come,” he said. He led you around the room, pointing out auction items. No one really loses their interest in stuff. Vampires gained and lost areas of study over the years. The pyramids, Ancient Greece, mythology, etc. Sometimes one was willing to part with their items.

“What’s your interest?” You asked.

“Legacy,” he said. He grinned at you. “I collect historical items that represent great acts of service or immortality. Like the Holy Grail, the arrow that went through Achilles, a mirror from Helen of Troy, a cane from King Ghezo of Dahomey,” he said. 

His voice went up a little as he spoke about his items. They must really mean that much to him. “There’s so much I need to know,” you said and giggled.

You stopped by a standing table, the surface of the glass just high enough above your waist for comfort. A waiter walked by with champagne flutes. Others walked with wine. Hm, maybe not wine. You squinted but wasn't entirely sure.

Tyrone grabbed two flutes, holding onto the darker liquid one and handing you the champagne. Blood then. 

“That’s actually my fault. I kind of skipped a few steps inviting you into this life,” he said.

“What kind of steps?” 

“Usually we select our donors more carefully. Choose those already drawn to the supernatural, even for silly reasons. If they are capable of acknowledging that supernatural creatures can exist. We talk, answer questions, slowly get used to knowing that we are real. Donors are expected to offer up potential for blackmail should they want to out us,” he said. “Sex is the strongest motivator.”

And if a room full of people could claim they saw you busting it down, or that there was a video of you sucking Tyrone’s dick, you damn sure weren’t going to say anything. Should it freak you out that you were on a flash drive somewhere? In a file marked for blackmail?

Not really. Wasn’t anything crazier than the sex tape you made with an ex. You watched as he deleted everything after you broke up. All but the copy you had. If he had a secret one, he never posted it to any porn site you’d been to.

“Definitely has my seal of loyalty,” you said. You smiled. “I get it. You have to protect this,” you said.

“Well, this is cute,” Tyrone’s eyes narrowed. You turned your head to who had spoken.

A Black man stood before you with a long but sweet face, big like a football player, and wearing a nice dark suit. On his arm, there was a leggy Black woman with a small, rounded face like an actual doll. She was so gorgeous with midnight skin glistening in the fluorescent lighting.

She winked at you and flashed a hit of fang. Fuck, there were so damn cute together, it was killing you. 

Tyrone stepped closer behind you, placing a hand on your hip. “Isaac,” Tyrone said.

“There’s been some talk about you getting a new donor. How you doin’ sweetheart?” Isaac asked.

You lifted an eyebrow at his date. She was just going to let that slide? She winked again and looked you up and down. Maybe you misinterpreted that earlier wink. 

“She’s with me,” Tyrone said. 

You wanted to look at him to confirm. That he really was just publicly claiming you like that. But you were picking up hella tension. Your intuition was usually spot on so you stayed a silent and united front with Tyrone.

“Ah, I see, I see. Too bad. She likes to play with her donors,” Isaac said.

You looked at his date and she smiled. If you weren’t head over heels for Tyrone, you would definitely try to see what that was like. 

“I also heard that you had switched up your look. Walkin’ around with grills. Got me to thinkin’ that Fo-”

“Do you mind giving us a moment? There’s a lot of donors here,” he said.

You weren’t sure what this Isaac person was on about but you wanted to know more. Your nosy nature landed you in trouble all the time. But you just liked to think you were curious. You nodded and moved away, shoulders slumping that you couldn’t listen to more.

You walked over to the bar and got some water, feeling a little woozy from lack of food. Tyrone promised that you weren’t staying too long and that he would most certainly feed you. You were pretty sure he was talkin’ nasty. Everything he said sounded nasty when it dripped from those sexy lips.

“Are you a donor too?” You turned to see some of the few non-Black people here. Even in supernatural-land you couldn’t escape Black men chasing after them. 

You nodded. “Oh my god! It’s so hard to tell sometimes,” she said.

You told them your name and they told you theirs. “Which one are you?” The ringleader, Summer, asked you. 

She was a peaked, skinny girl with stringy blonde hair and one too many freckles. Out of the mountains that God sculpted Black women out of, these niggas still went for flat plains.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you the second donor or…?” 

“Does it matter?” You asked. Nothing about this girl seemed genuine. You didn’t like how she asked all of these questions or that her friends stayed silent as if you were in a teenage movie. 

“You the third one?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. One of the girls behind her smirked and you looked back at Summer.

“How long have you been a donor? I know how easy it is to get mixed up, since they rotate so often,” she said. She smiled like she was your friend. You hated nice-nasty bitches like this. What was with the hostility? 

Why couldn’t they have a nice conversation and bond over being blood bags for vampires? It was straight to competition mode and you were sick of it. As if the bitch could compete with someone as gorgeous as you?

If nothing else, it was the audacity. You were minding your Black ass business and the snow patrol had to come in and break it up.

“Maybe you just can’t satisfy your vampire. Not if it takes more than one of you at a time,” you said. 

Summer’s face dropped down in surprise. “I have class so I won’t give you any details, however, just know that my vampire is well taken care of. Evening ladies,” you said. You turned and headed far, far away from them.

“God, I’ve been waiting for someone to shut that ho up.” You passed by a tall Black woman with sun in her veins. Her deep brown skin was beautiful, exposed by her dark green dress. She was small up top, but more than made up for it in the ass and hips department.

And why was everyone so fucking pretty? It wasn’t fair.

You stopped walking. “I’m Nikki,” she said. You introduced yourself.

“The bitch of the ball?” You asked, nodding your head in Summer’s direction.

“She gets off on making donors cry because her poor mean Daddy won’t pay attention to her,” Nikki mocked, mimicking a baby voice.

“Fuck, that’s annoying,” you said.

“Right! She’s also probably mad because she’s been throwing herself at Tyrone for years. He won’t even acknowledge she exists,” Nikki said.

“I figured there was some jealousy in there,” you said.

“Isn’t it always though?” She asked.

For the next twenty minutes or so, you bonded with Nikki instantly. You were so in sync, it was maddening. You were into the same kind of things, loving movies and lounge dates, not one for a big overcrowded clubs. You were exchanging numbers with her when Tyrone finally found you.

“Good?” He asked.

You introduced him to Nikki who told you that she was here for another vampire. Tyrone knew that one and said she had a good one. She excused herself, with a promise to text you.

“Everything good with you?” You asked.

“Fine. Isaac is a business rival. He likes to get under my skin so I can brag about my next move,” he said.

“Does he think you’re that stupid?” You asked.

“Apparently. The mu’fucka keep tryin’ it,” he said. You giggled. Your stomach also rumbled.

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. “Forgive me, let’s get you some food. Anything you want,” he said. 

“Anything?” You asked.

“Anything,” he said and smiled. He pecked your lips, hummed a little, and brought his lips back to yours. “That’s what I’ve been missing all night. Some lovin’.”

You told him that you wanted to go to a restaurant on the PCH. Gladstone’s was a celebration destination, right off the coast of the beach. It overlooked the ocean and there were barrels of peanuts you could snack on and throw the shells underfoot. It would absolutely ruin your shoes, but you’d just make Tyrone buy you some more.

Hell, maybe a whole fleet of the same shoes. So you could mess them up every night wearing them to bed with him.

“After dinner, you can get all the lovin’ you want,” you said. 

His eyes turned a shade darker, the red still a shock to you. He pulled you closer to him. “Don’t tease me, little doll,” he said.

You grinned. “The usual? Food and fuck?” You said. You slid your hands into his. He laughed, that wide smile tearing you up inside. You wanted to see that smile on his face all the time. 

“In that order,” he said. He led you outside to his car and soon you were flying down the street, wind whipping through the open windows for a night of great food, sights, and Tyrone’s body covering yours.

Masterlist | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

[megamindsecretlair]

Midnight Sin - Chapter 3

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut. Oral (fem receiving), cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Possession kink, pet names. Mentions of blood, overstimulation.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. After inviting you to an exclusive party at his place, you wake up and enjoy a lazy afternoon with Tyrone learning more about his kind.

Word Count: 5,036k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: WHEW! They make me sick, lol. They're so cute. (I say this as if I didn't write them that way) Thank you SO MUCH for all the love towards this series! It means the world to me! I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony977 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque

You slowly rose to consciousness. It was a lazy thing, sensations hit you first. You were warm, extremely warm, and Tyrone’s arm was around you like a leaden weight. There were no sounds in the room, figures, but the silence was eerie. You had your own place so you were used to quiet mornings, but you were usually alone. Waking up next to someone was a completely different experience. Your one night stands were exactly that, one night.

You shifted, opening one eye and searching the room. You were still in the same room that Tyrone fucked your brains out. You were sore. Fuck, you were so sore. You ached in muscle groups you didn’t think were possible. You had a slight throbbing on your thigh. You peeked under the covers.

Tyrone’s bite was still there, but the pinpricks seemed tinier. You’d have to ask about that. If he was going to continue biting you, he’d have to do it in areas you could easily hide. Somehow, you just couldn’t think of a proper excuse for why someone would bite you hard enough to draw blood.

Tyrone lay like an anchor next to you. He didn’t breathe. In fact, if you weren’t sure he was a vampire, you would have sworn he was dead. Technically, yes, you knew he was dead. But not dead-dead. 

Since he was at rest, you took the moment to study him. He had long eyelashes fanned over ebony cheeks. Even after everything you did last night, his hair was still perfectly braided. You’d have to ask if that was him or vampire magic.

His full, plump lips were slightly parted mimicking breathing. He was so damn gorgeous. You had to pinch yourself, a little, to make sure that you weren’t dreaming. That you really did meet and fuck a vampire. Too bad you couldn’t tell anyone that part. Your friend, Amanda, would flip the fuck out!

You grabbed Tyrone’s hand, looking at his massive paw. Long, delicate fingers like a musician’s hand. There was so much you wanted to discover about him, you only wished you had more time to do it. You carefully took his arm off of you and went to the bathroom to take care of yourself.

You stumbled towards the door. Your legs were too weak to support you. You had to take slow, measured steps. Each footfall felt heavier than the last. You were unprepared for the appetite of a vampire. If this was any indication of how your sexual relationship was to go, you needed to look into stretches or something.

You made it to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. If there was a definition of “fucked”, your picture would be right beside it. Your hair was a mess, sweated through and frizzy. Your eyes were shiny and slightly red from all the crying you did. Your lips were swollen from all the kisses and bites. 

A deep line was etched into your cheek from the sheets. You slept well. Really well. Who needed sleep aids when you had a vampire? 

You smiled at yourself as you took care of business and then headed back to bed. You fished your phone out of your clutch and answered texts and emails, waiting for Tyrone to wake up.

You weren’t stupid enough to go traipsing around the mansion without him. You gave everyone a show last night because you wanted to fuck Tyrone and thems the rules. But you were not a free-for-all. 

A little under an hour later, Tyrone finally stirred. It was like life was sucked back into him. His chest rose and he twitched as life or magic or whatever kept him animated flared up. He blinked a few times, turning his head and sniffing the air.

“You do that a lot,” you mentioned softly.

Tyrone smiled and opened his eyes. He licked his lips as he drew the pillow closer to him and rested his head on it. He was content to look at you. But the longer he stared, the more nervous he made you. 

“You can tell a lot by scent,” he said. “For example, I know you had an omelet yesterday morning.”

“Eww!” You said and giggled. 

“Hm, you smell like me too,” he said. His voice got deeper, surely on purpose, but you loved it. 

“Do I, now?” You asked.

“Mhm, I smell good on you,” he said. His eyes turned a shade darker, more like crimson. His hand darted out to tug you closer. You yelped as you were tucked under him. He leaned up and ran his nose against yours. 

“Okay, show mercy. I’m still human,” you said.

Tyrone grinned, showing off his fangs. “My apologies. I’ll try to remember that. You did so well last night, it’s easy to forget,” he said. 

“I know some things, but not everything. I thought I was going to pass out,” you told him. You gripped his shoulders, feeling just how solid he was. You simply couldn’t get over it. Here was a man with presence. Humans had no chance at competing with him.

How could you go back to human men after getting a taste of Tyrone?

He kissed your cheek but it pulled one of the bites on your shoulder. You hissed and Tyrone pulled back. His eyes took on a feral gleam as he looked at the bite on your shoulder. He was such a caveman. 

Tyrone bit his finger, blood welled up. He rubbed his blood on your bite. Warmth spread from it and made you tingle all over. You moaned as he continued to rub your bite. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice a little slurred.

“Cleaning up after myself,” he said. “We take your blood, absorb it. It mixes with ours. The resulting magic lets us do a lot of things. Like heal the bites we make,” he said. 

“That is so fucking cool,” you said. You wanted to learn absolutely everything. How much of the vampire myths were true? How many were false? 

“Gonna heal the one on my thigh too?” You asked.

“Fuck no,” he said. You giggled while his hand searched your thigh for the bite. You hissed a little as his fingers ran over it.

“That’s my spot and I’m keeping it. Every other vampire will be able to smell me on you. Know that you’re mine,” he said.

You grinned and melted under his words. Maybe you should see a shrink. Belonging to a dangerous creature should not excite you the way it did. You wanted to be his, for however long you had him.

You were certain that he’d grow bored eventually. There was no way a vampire would attach himself to a human. Yuck. Spare you the mercy of growing old, ugly, and frail while he still remained young and beautiful. There was no time to think about such things now, though. You weren’t old yet and you could enjoy him.

“So I just have to live with a perpetual wound from now on? Say goodbye to bikinis forever?” 

Tyrone grinned. Well, you had your answer. You shook your head and focused on his arms. His neck. You wanted to commit every inch of him to memory. 

“Up for a tour?” Tyrone asked.

You groaned. “I can’t fucking walk!” 

Tyrone only chuckled, a smug look passing his face before he mockingly pouted. “Aww, sounds like someone needs some more dick,” he said.

“Don’t you dare,” you giggled. “I’ll be paralyzed!” 

Tyrone tickled you and you squirmed. “Nah, you can still move. You’ll be alright,” he said. 

“Tyrone!” You squealed.

Tyrone stopped and tugged you closer. He licked his lips before pressing his lips against yours, kissing you slowly. You relaxed into the kiss, letting him dictate the pace. His kisses were addictive. He knew how to do so without nicking your lips. 

You were growing wetter by the second. Your body wasted no time getting acclimated to someone like him. 

“I can smell you getting wet for me, too,” he murmured against your lips.

You groaned. “I’m not going to be able to hide anything from you, am I?” 

He pulled back and stared into your eyes. “Nah,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes. Well, when you ask a stupid question… “So what kind of tour are we talking about?” 

“Tour of the house. I don’t live here, but I keep an office and a few things,” he said. 

“Where do you live?” You asked.

Tyrone grinned. His hands idly rubbed your lower back. Yup, you could easily get addicted to this man. 

“Are you asking me to trust you with my resting place?” Tyrone asked.

“No need to be so dramatic about it,” you said with a grin. 

“It’s not a big secret, but vampires are a little more wary of who they trust their resting place to. Here, everyone agrees to be civil. But their true resting place is a well kept secret. It’s personal,” Tyrone said.

“So, I’m guessing no surprise pop ups in nothing but a trenchcoat and panties?” 

Tyrone’s hand flexed against your waist. He grinned. “Maybe I can make an exception for you,” he said.

You giggled and shook your head. “It’s okay. If you say it’s personal, I believe you.”

“So, tour? Food? We have a well stocked kitchen for donors,” he said.

Your stomach had been cramping since you woke up. “After last night? Food first,” you said.

“As you wish,” he said. He kissed your cheek and then stood up. He wore gray boxer briefs that looked divine against his rich, dark skin. You, on the other hand, did not bring any undergarments. You didn’t think through the morning after that well. Your fancy dress was not your usual morning after attire.

Tyrone picked his dress shirt off of the ground and held it open for you. You were not joking about not being able to walk. You struggled to roll out of bed and plant your feet on the ground. It took you two tries to stand up.

Tyrone offered no assistance, instead watching you like a bird watching an insect. You stood on your own and walked towards him. You turned around and slipped on his shirt. There weren’t many things you could snatch from a significant other. Other girls got to, but you always found yourself with men whose clothes were smaller.

Not Tyrone. He wasn’t that tall compared to you, but he was thick. His dress shirt draped you nicely, hiding the important bits. You buttoned it on, leaving the top two undone. Tyrone’s eyes roamed over you, eyes turning brighter as he took you in. 

“I want to rip you out of that,” he said.

“Would that you could,” you said with a smile. You were more than willing. But your body was not. 

Tyrone stepped closer and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. Arousal pooled and Tyrone growled into your kiss. 

“Food. Kitchen. Otherwise, I’m definitely going to work that shit out,” he said.

You giggled. You had to find the strength to pull away from him. He was the stronger of you two, an entire vampire, but you were the one that had to remain strong and clear headed. Knowing that he was so feral for you only turned you on. You could only be around him in small doses. Long exposure to this type of passion was going to turn your head to mush.

Tyrone grinned and turned around. “Hop on,” he said.

“Are you crazy?” You asked.

Without waiting for you, he scooted back, grabbed your thighs, and hauled you onto his back. You yelped, not used to being picked up like this. Your arms flew around his neck and held on. You eased up, so as to not choke him, until you realized that he didn’t need to fucking breathe.

Your breaths were caught in your throat as he threw off your balance. The world looked strange from up here. The errant thought made you giggle. It bordered on hysterics as he left the room. 

“I got you,” he said.

He didn’t grunt or struggle as he walked down the hallway from last night. His paintings were no less intimidating in the light of day. There were so many of them.

“Practice in vanity or does this fit in with your lord of the manor vibe?” You asked.

Tyrone chuckled. “I have been a patron of a lot of artists in my life. They thank me by painting me. I didn’t want that shit in my house. So I guess a little of both,” he said. 

He carried you through the house, explaining this painting or that painting. He told you about some of the artists he met, some you heard of and others you hadn’t. “Most people don’t value art ‘till after your death. Like people can’t appreciate it until you’re not there to hear them.” 

You supposed there was some truth to that. It was nerve wracking interacting with your favorite artists. You were in such awe of their work, you didn’t really want them to know you existed. 

He moved through the house with ease. You passed a few remnants of the party. A stray cup here, a lonely panty there. A pile of vampires had passed out on the rug. Outside the windows, the sun was descending rapidly. 

“Are you able to be up when the sun is up?” You asked. 

“Older vampires can. We’re all slaves to the sun, but some can get up before nightfall,” he said. 

“Like you,” you said.

Tyrone agreed as he deftly stepped over vampires or avoided mysterious substances on the ground. You couldn’t tell if it was wine or blood. 

“So that makes you…?” 

Tyrone chuckled. “You should never ask a vampire his age. It’s rude,” he said with another chuckle. 

“Is it, though?” 

Tyrone pushed through the door, into the kitchen. The kitchen was huge. Spacious. You could fit four of your kitchens in here with room to spare. The marble tiles on the floor were a soft gray and white. The cabinets were done in a soft wood with darker gray countertops. 

The stove was top of the line. Wait, make that stoves. Plural. Two fridges as well. Tyrone really had a whole sex mansion complete with food. Why the hell would any vampire not fuck and feed his way through existence? 

He deposited you on a bar stool. Your feet dangled, it was up so high. He kissed your cheek as he went to one of the fridges. Inside, you could see meal prep containers. He tapped through some of them, calling out the ingredients. You wanted the salmon bowl. You probably needed something heartier. Well, you should probably look into supplements for all the iron you’re going to lose donating blood. For now, you just wanted something to calm your stomach.

Tyrone heated it up and served you, handing you a fork that looked damn expensive. He sat on the stool next to you and encouraged you to eat. 

You moaned on the first bite. The flavors smacked you in the face. The salmon was juicy, well seasoned, on a bed of rice and complimentary veggies. They must have a Black cook. There was no way anyone else would produce such a work of art. 

Tyrone talked to you while you ate. It was weird. You wouldn’t be able to share a meal with him either. “We can eat to blend in, but we gain no nutrition from it.” 

He told you more about donors. The rule of thumb was catch and release. Vampires kept a rotation of three donors to not wear any one of them out. Only for a short time, as long as it suits either party, but vampires were expected to eventually let them go and return to their lives. 

You kept a neutral face. Inside, you were already dying. Your time with him was even more limited than you thought. You focused on your plate as he explained more about it. But all you could hear was that you’d have to share him with two other people.

“Hey, talk to me,” he said.

“Nothing, keep going,” you said. You gave him a smile but he only frowned.

“This only works if you’re honest. If you keep things from me, I can’t fix it,” he said.

You slowly chewed as you mulled that over. That was true but…what could he fix about sharing him and needing to feed? 

“How many donors do you have?” You asked.

“None. Just you,” he said.

You tilted your head. “But you just said…”

“Usually, yes, I would have three donors. The older you get, the more you can get selective and wait longer in between feedings. We have supplemental ways of feeding too,” he said.

You stared at him and licked your lips as you thought. “Will you get any more donors?”

Tyrone gripped your hand and brought it to his lips. He placed a kiss there. He turned his sharp red eyes towards you and held your gaze. “You are the only donor I want. And I will not feed unless you say it’s okay,” he said.

“But I’m not gonna let you starve–”

“You let me worry about my food,” he said with a grin. 

You rolled your eyes. “You can’t be serious,” you said. You didn’t want details, but you were trying to guard yourself. You were already feening for him. Needing to touch him as often as he touched you. You had known each other for a few short weeks, having gone on so many dates. 

He had kept himself apart, unwilling to touch you. Last night rang the dinner bell. Literally. You smiled at your joke and Tyrone pushed you to tell him. When you did, he laughed. His throaty, raspy laugh was loud in the spacious kitchen and you loved hearing it. You wouldn’t be able to bear it if he took another donor like he was supposed to. 

“I will only feed from you if you allow it. I have other ways to feed that don’t involve inviting someone else into this,” he said. He squeezed your hand.

“Yes, but it doesn’t sound like vampires do the whole…exclusive thing,” you said. Ugh. Were you really trying to define whatever this was? Couldn’t it be two normal people fucking? Perhaps not, now that you thought about it. Nothing about this was normal. He was a vampire. You were human. He was a predator. And you were food.

“Normally, no. Nothing about you is normal. Nothing about this is normal. I don’t want to share you, so it would be unfair to ask you to share me,” he said.

You hummed and took a bite to keep from saying anything stupid. Like melt all over him and declare to the entire world that he was yours forever and ever. He must’ve had this conversation a thousand times. You stopped yourself. You did not want to think about the countless donors he’d had over the centuries he’d been alive. It was none of your business.

“Okay, point made.” You smiled and took his hand again, amazed yet again at the heat that radiated from him.

“How come you’re so warm?” You asked.

“I’m well fed and riding that high,” he said with a grin, flashing his fangs.

You rolled your eyes. Now that you were fed, you were a little more stable on your feet. You could manage to walk, but it was slow going. Tyrone offered to carry you, but you weren’t a damn baby. You could walk under your own steam. 

You looked at him as he walked beside you. He seemed content to do so. You wondered if humans were disgustingly slow compared to his speed. 

The food helped in a lot of ways. Moving around helped ease the stiffness and soreness from all the rough fucking from last night. He took you through the major rooms downstairs, the playrooms, the living room, the dining room. He took you to receiving rooms and tea rooms and all other kinds of rooms usually reserved for English estates.

“So no one’s allowed upstairs?” You asked.

“Private rooms people can rent,” he said with a shrug. 

“Your cleaning bill must be through the roof. How does one get into cleaning up blood for vampires?” 

You had stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the grandness of it. He shrugged. “Vampires have their hands in a number of businesses. Cleaning services too.” 

“You know you don’t have to answer all of my questions if there’s some huge secret,” you said. 

He smiled. “You’re a donor now, claimed in front of everyone. I can share a lot more,” he said. 

You tilted your head and nodded. He was willing to try so you will too. You headed up the stairs. Tyrone made appreciative noises as he played with your ass. You playfully slapped his hands away, but he only went right back to caressing the globes of your ass. At the top of the stairs, he pulled you back into his chest and he kissed your neck.

This man was so dangerous to your well being. He took you through the wide hallways, big enough to fit four, maybe five people comfortably without bumping into each other. He pointed out the private rooms in the east wing. Some were occupied so you crept carefully.

Tyrone seemed tense during this part. You weren’t sure why, so you kept quiet while he pointed out a few things. He took you into some of the empty rooms. There were all manner of whips, chains, and fresh toys in new packages. You lifted your eyebrows at some of it. And you thought you were adventurous. 

Tyrone led you by the hand towards the west wing. His office, his private bedrooms. The main bedroom was, you guessed it, huge. You didn’t know rooms came this big. There was a large gap between the door and the king sized bed. An ottoman was placed in front of it, dainty pillows on top of it.

Your feet sunk into the plush carpet and you groaned. It was like walking on marshmallows. He showed you the walk-in closet. It was about the size of your living room at home. You wanted to move into the walk-in closet. You’d kill for a walk-in closet.

He had a neat row of tailored suits in varying shades of blue, black, and gray. He had dressers in the middle of the room with jewelry, watches, chains, cufflinks. His shoes were arranged against one whole wall. This was wealth. 

Oh, but the bathroom. You could marry the bathroom. A large jacuzzi tab was pushed into the corner of the room. Opposite it, there was a shower with clear doors and a bench seat. The backsplash looked like chevron tiles. The sink almost spanned an entire wall, with dual sinks, brushed steel hardware, and a few smell goods on the sink. Your hand caressed brands you’d never heard of. There was probably a list of rich folk brands not released to poor folk. 

The tile underneath was warm, which surprised you. But the tub! You ached to sink down into it and never leave until you were nothing but shriveled prunes. Tyrone came up behind you while you gushed about it.

“After we finish, we can take a bath. Clean you up,” he whispered against your neck. It tingled with the promise of that particular activity. Maybe you had one more round left in you. Maybe. Hard maybe.

“I’d really love that,” you said. 

Reluctantly, you left the bathroom and his bedroom, already missing something that was never yours. He took your hand again and you grinned. The gloves had come off. You had been touching and feeling on each other all throughout the tour. You were still dizzy from the kiss he planted on you against the railing in between the east and west wing.

He pointed down the hall and said that there were workout rooms and a lounge area where he relaxed, nothing fancy. But he stopped in front of one door and looked at you with a grin. He opened the door and your eyes bugged out of your head.

He had a library. Scratch that, a mega library. You were running out of ways to describe how massive his home was. Every wall was covered in books. You headed inside. 

Dark wood floors were shined to perfection. Directly in front of you, there was a floor to ceiling window with intricate iron decorations outside of it. Under it, there was a window seat. To your left, there were plump blue chairs set all around so you could flop in and read all day. He actually had ladders, rolling ladders, in the library. 

To your right, there was a small neat desk with a lamp, computer, some folders. Behind that, more books. And a door set off in the corner.

“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” you gasped. You had no words. “This is some Beauty and the Beast shit,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled. “You can use it any time you want,” he said.

“Oh, don’t tell me that. You’ll get sick of seeing me!” You raced to the bookshelf behind  the desk. There were modern books mixed in with old books. Really old books, kept in neat condition. Your finger lightly trailed some of the titles, unwilling to get your greasy fingerprints all over it.

“I will have to ask that you don’t read the books behind the door,” Tyrone said as you inched closer to the mysterious door.

“Can I ask why?” You asked.

He took your hand and opened that door. Inside, it was probably the smallest room of the whole house. Which wasn’t saying much. It was still bigger than your room. There was only one desk, empty, and one chair. The surrounding bookshelves all held uniform black bound books. 

“My journals,” Tyrone said. His voice was tight. You looked at this face. He frowned at the room. “I used to write everything down when I was turned. But…gets depressing seeing so many. So many memories lost,” he said.

“So you don’t have perfect memory?” You asked.

“Like humans, we remember what we choose to,” he said. You could tell it was still a sore subject, so you squeezed his hand. 

“You don’t have to share more, I get it. Off limits, say no more,” you said. Although, you’d be a rotten liar if you said you weren’t curious. Of course you were. All those secrets. All those lives. You wondered if you were to read them, would you be any closer to understanding him? Were you capable of understanding the lives he lived? The magnitude of living for centuries? 

Possibly not. But he said hands off so you’d keep your hands off as instructed. He smiled, no more than a lift of his lips, and closed the door. Sealing off his journals. 

You moved back into the main library, but he followed you with a sudden hunger. You tilted your head as you backed away, but he only pursued you. His eyes were narrowed and focused, a wild gleam in his eyes. A smirk hovered on his lips. 

“What you lookin’ at me like that for?” You asked.

“You really have no idea, do you?” He asked, though it seemed more to himself. He pursued you, eyes raking over your body, ready to devour you whole. You briefly wondered if that wasn’t driving this. If he truly only saw you as food and wanted to play with you before sucking you dry. 

That should terrify you. But he had plenty of opportunities to kill you. And you watched one too many crime dramas.

He pushed you against the desk and then lifted you effortlessly on top of it. You yelped from the sudden cold from the desk. Tyrone’s hands quickly massaged you, squeezing your booty and rubbing some warmth back into it.

“I–”

Tyrone cut off your protests with a scorching kiss. It was wet and sloppy and so damn hot, your toes curled. He lifted up the shirt you wore and knelt on the ground. It made his face level with your dripping pussy.

He tongue darted out, catching wayward drops. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned.

His hands pressed your thighs as far as they would go, your feet dangling over his shoulders. He attached his lips to your clit and began to vigorously suck and flick his tongue.

“Oh god, oh god. Ouueee,” you moaned. You leaned back on your elbows and tried to survive another orgasm. Your legs shook. Tyrone’s thumbs rubbed circles into your thighs. You were on stimulation overload. 

His sloppy eating heightened your pleasure. Feeling it, made your eyes roll back into your head. He ate with reckless abandon, slurping up everything you leaked out. “Oh shit, oh shit,” you moaned. Your orgasm was coming in like a bullet train.

“Let it go, love,” he said. His voice was hoarse, rough from licking you.

You moaned once more as you exploded on his tongue. Your thighs tried to close but he held you open still. He retreated as you came, but his lips were close enough to feel them. He was murmuring something but fuck if you heard it.

You collapsed onto the desk, spent and worn out. Now, you truly were paralyzed. You physically could not get up. Your eyes rolled up to the ceiling and you stared at the crown molding. 

Tyrone replaced that view and smiled down at you. “Ready for that bath now?” 

“Fuck you,” you groaned.

He chuckled as he picked you up, bride style, his arm tucked behind your back and under your legs. He carried you as if you weighed no more than a feather. You rested your head on his smooth shoulder as he carried you to his room and then to that lovely tub.

You only hoped you could stay awake long enough to enjoy it.

&&&

Masterlist | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

[megamindsecretlair]

A Seduction at Midnight

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH! PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, blood play, cum play, possession kink, voyeurism, public sex kink, all consensual. Referring to female anatomy as "she". AU Tyrone.

Summary: You are invited to one of Tyrone's exclusive parties. You aren't entirely sure what to expect but you are thrilled at the thought of what he has planned.

Word Count: 4,705k

This has been turned into a series. Catch up here and make sure to read the prequel! Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Ya'll sicka me yet? LOL. Happy Halloweek indeed! This is a fun challenge. This made me so fucking hot. I hope it does for you as well. This was SO fun. Can you tell Vamps are my fave? Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse

The glossy black envelope was clutched in your hands. You read and reread the invitation plenty of times. The words echoed in your mind as you walked up the stone steps. Your heels clicked softly.

At the heavy, massive doors before you, there stood a bodyguard dressed in an all black suit. He held out his hand for the invitation and you handed it over. You stuffed your nerves into your back pocket. You’d never done anything like this before, but you weren’t going to let your nerves ruin it.

He scanned the invitation and then murmured something in the mic at his shirt cuff. The mask you wore was tied neatly to your face, but unaccustomed to such a thing, you fought the urge to fidget. 

The doors swung open on loud hinges, wide enough for you to slip through. The foyer area was dark, lit only by ambient lighting and strategically placed candelabras. The flames danced against the cold marble walls. 

A sea of masks greeted you as other members walked around the first floor, floating in and out of rooms. Clinking glassware drew your attention to the right side. You walked through the sweeping archway.

You couldn’t help looking at the other party goers. Wondering how many of them were like him. Was everyone here human? Were they all vampires? The thrill of not knowing made you shiver. 

You moved through the silent waiters all wearing black masks with elongated noses, reminiscent of the plague doctor masks. The men had slicked back hair or puffy afros, white shirts and black ties, holding delicate trays aloft. The women wore sensible skirts, button down shirts, and matching black ties. 

You snagged a flute of wine from a passing waiter, needing something to calm your racing heart. Everyone spoke in low murmurs. You glanced around at the elaborate masks. Some were decorated finely, like works of art. Others were more industrial with little to none adornment. 

An itchy feeling crawled between your shoulder blades. Everyone’s eyes seemed to snap towards you, to the way you moved around them. Maybe it was your imagination but it made you self-conscious regardless. 

Your skirt swooshed about your ankles as you flitted from room to room, pointedly ignoring the way conversation slowed when you neared. The way eyes tracked you. The way the light played with shadows and you weren’t sure what you were looking at.

You bit your painted lip. You deposited your empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. The pressure of being stared at was too much. You shouldn’t have come. You nearly laughed. This was all such bullshit. 

“A vision,” a deep, soothing voice carried from the right side of you. You turned to the source and found him staring at you through a Phantom mask half obscuring his face. It called attention to his sensual lips and you took an extra breath. 

He was delicious, standing there in a close fitting suit, tailored to every inch of him. He wore no jacket, opting instead to stand there in his long sleeved black shirt and black vest, brushed silver buttons catching the light. A silver chain hung from a pocket on his vest. 

He smiled, flashing a bit of his fang. The sharp teeth sent a sliver of desire through you and you squeezed your thighs together as you drank him in. The same way you ogled him, he studied you. 

His eyes gazed lazily over you. He circled you. His fingers trailed behind him as he passed around you, crossing over the skirt of your dress and up to your arms. When his warm touch touched bare skin, you gasped. Everything you had thought about vampires was void. He surpassed every stereotype.

He stopped behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and caught some faint breeze running through the mansion. A primal part of you recognized that you let a predator behind you. He sidled up closer, pressing a kiss there behind your ear. 

He purposefully ran his sharp fangs along your neck, spreading kisses along your exposed shoulders. You sighed softly, rolling your neck, until you remembered that you were in full view of others.

Your eyes snapped open, taking you out of the moment. Those in the immediate area openly gawked at you. Tyrone kept up his kisses, his tongue darting out every so often to lick your skin. 

Could he smell the blood running in your veins? Was he salivating at the thought of it rushing just below the surface? 

“Tyrone?” You asked. 

“Do you not want them to see? How gorgeous you are?” He said against your skin, his lips tickling your neck. You curled into him. His hands slid up your waist, pulling you back against him. A breath escaped you, feeling his hardening length against your backside. 

Spurred on by some carnal instinct, you rubbed him over his pant legs. He chuckled darkly. “Already need it?” He asked.

You didn’t come here for the free drinks. You turned around to face him. From his neat cornrows to his suit, to his polished shoes, he looked good enough to eat. His deep ebony skin invited a taste. You licked your lips just imagining it. 

“I need you,” you said. 

His hands ghosted down your arms, rubbing away the pebbles on your skin, and grasped your hand. He brought it to his lips, his eyes focused on you. Before his lips could connect to your hand, he flipped it over. He inhaled the perfume you rubbed on your wrists. He placed a chaste kiss to the pulse in your wrist. 

Fresh arousal escaped you. You’d never met anyone like him. He projected confidence and sensuality. Well, he’d had centuries to learn. When you first met him, you knew there was something special about him. It’d taken a lot of convincing to prove that he was what he said he was. Now you believed him. Here in his element, he moved like a king amongst peasants. 

He stepped backwards, raising your hand to the other guests. “Our guest of honor has arrived, right on time,” he said to the crowd. 

Low murmuring echoed throughout the room as people started to push and crowd into each other. Had he been serious about that? 

You supposed so. Tyrone tugged you by the hand back toward the foyer. Between the staircases on either side, there was a long hallway. Masks split apart allowing you two to walk through. 

Your pulse jumped in your throat. You were the center of attention and it was making you edgy. Dizzy with being on display. Your eyes scanned the paintings on the walls, all different impressionist depictions of Tyrone. All the different lives he lived. The time periods he moved through. The stories he could tell. 

The low light gave each painting a sinister look though the scenes themselves weren’t dark. You think. He led you towards a room, opening the door for you and letting you enter first. Inside, a round bed sat in the middle of the room on a platform. 

The room had windows on two sides and the other side of the glass was dark. An old grandfather clock was positioned in a corner of the room. The tick, tick, tick almost matched your heartbeat. 

The windows gave you the illusion of privacy. But you heard the heels, swishing skirts, and squeaking shoes. You knew that the fifty or so people were filing past you, heading towards whatever room that was to watch.

Tyrone warned you what his parties were like. Still you begged to attend. He didn’t want you in that world. But then he shouldn’t have told you about them. He admitted to a morbid curiosity at your response. If you would reject that side of him. 

Never. You wanted all of him. For as long as you could have him. This type of obsession you had with him was concerning. You weren’t an idiot. You asked him one day if he put a glamor or spell on you. He had chuckled, throwing his head back and exposing the length of his neck and baring his fangs. “No. I won’t ever do that to you. I’d rather have something else from you,” he had said.

“What?” You had asked.

“Surrender.”

That conversation flowed through your mind as you entered the room. The lights were still dim, multiple candelabras here as well. The sweet incense poured into the room, tickling your nose with its aroma. 

The door slammed and locked behind you and you flinched. You stood in the middle of the room at the foot of the bed. Tyrone stood near the door, facing you with his hands in his pockets.

In the next blink, he was in front of you, hands cupping your face. His lips crashed against yours. His fangs scraped your bottom lip. You gasped and he pushed his tongue in, licking every inch of your mouth. 

“I almost can’t bear to share you,” he said. “Should’ve ended this tradition.” 

 “They’d kill you,” you said and smiled. 

“They could try,” he said and chuckled. His lips moved over yours, tasting and sighing into your mouth. Your hands gripped his vest, pulling him closer to you. 

His body was as hard as marble. Solid. He was a steady presence. He turned you around roughly, one large hand grabbing around your middle and pulling you against him. He kissed up your neck and sucked in your earlobe. 

“It’s just you and me,” he said.

You giggled. “You must think I’m some dainty little innocent,” you said. “I know what I’m doing.” 

You stepped away from him and looked at him over your shoulder. His mask obscured half of his face, but the other half was set in a devious smirk. He unzipped your dress and let it drop. The silky material slipped down your sides and pooled at your feet.

Tyrone sucked in a breath. You didn’t wear anything underneath. You felt his gaze eat up the curve of your back, the globes of your ass, and the length of your legs. He held your hand and helped you step out of the circle of your dress. You leaned down to take care of your heels.

Tick, tick tick.

“Leave them on,” he said. He raised your hand to his lips and then moved you in front of the windows. He dropped your hand and moved away, telling you to give a show. 

A quick sigh escaped you as you threw your head back and squared your shoulders. You twirled, letting those strangers see your naked body. It only emboldened you to dip your hips, rub your breasts, and put your arms up to stretch your back. 

Tyrone chuckled. “You like to be watched,” he commented.

“I like to be watched by you.” 

“Then come here,” he said. He opened his arms, a grin split his face. His fangs were long and sharp, giving him an otherworldly appearance. He was a devil made flesh, ready to hasten your descent into hell. You went to his side willingly. 

He kissed you again, taking his time to explore your mouth. He walked you backwards, pushing you until the bed hit the back of your knees. He pushed you down and stood before you, looking down at your body.

You felt so sexy under his gaze. Your eyes dropped down to his pants. His dick strained against his zipper, slightly pulsing. You reached for him, but he moved at the last second. 

“Did I give you permission to touch me?” He asked. 

“N-no,” you stammered. You were caught off guard. He had a strong streak in him, but to use that tone…your pussy fluttered. Aching to be filled or played with. Touched by him. 

He gave you a series of directions to move where he wanted you. You moved to the pillows at the head of the bed. You molded your back to its plush softness and widened your legs, your heels digging into the mattress. 

Tick, tick, tick.

Tyrone cocked his head and walked around the bed. He grabbed one of your wrists and pulled, silk wrapping around your arm. He repeated it for the other side. “Tyrone?” 

“I don’t think I can trust you to obey me,” he said. 

“I can be good,” you said.

He chuckled. “Not for this part, you can’t,” he said and ran a finger down your cheek. “I don’t want to have to punish you this early,” he said.

You shivered at his deep voice, the soothing cadence relaxing you better than anything could. The promise of punishment wasn’t an unwelcome thought. Your mind wandered to what his punishment would look like. 

He returned to his original position at the foot of the bed. He stared, not at you, but at your exposed pussy. He could see the slick from where he stood. He ran his tongue across his fangs. He undid the cufflinks of his dress shirt and stored them in his pocket. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, baring his forearms. 

A vein ran the length of his forearm and your mouth turned dry. You wanted to touch him. He didn’t mention shit about not being able to. You pulled against the silk scarves and he smiled. “Knew yo ass couldn’t sit still,” he said. 

“It’s not fair,” you pouted.

“It’ll never be fair between us,” he said.

You sighed and conceded the point. He was right. He had all of the power, experience, and the gift of patience. You were a human and slow and needy as fuck. 

He crawled onto the bed, fully clothed, and smoothed his tie under his vest. He gripped your knees and widened your legs. He inspected your pussy, angling his head to view it from different sides.

“You are a treasure,” he said.

He watched as your pussy clenched. You were so empty. You needed to be full. Not whatever fucking game this was.

“Untie me, baby. Let me touch you,” you said. You gyrated on the bed, trying to entice him. 

He flashed his fangs. He didn’t answer you. Instead, he got on his elbows and settled his face close to your core.

“Hm, she lookin’ a little lonely,” Tyrone said.

“She is!” You said. 

Tyrone kissed your pussy and you jerked off of the bed. You were horny and he wasn’t helping. He lifted your legs and placed them over his shoulders. Your heels dug into his back and he hissed in pleasure.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, suckling it and flattening his tongue against it. “Oh fuck,” you moaned. It was quiet in the room so your words bounced off of the walls. Here too, there were paintings of him. All of it focused on the bed, focused on you. That made you remember the windows and how there was a room full of anonymous people, wearing masks, and seeing Tyrone pleasure you. 

Tick, tick, tick.

You moaned and twirled your hips, trying to get Tyrone to move. He wasn’t one to be rushed. He kept up a slow, sensual pursuit of your pleasure. He drew his tongue up and down your pussy, from your entrance to your clit. 

The sounds you made reverberated right back to you. You sounded needy to your own ears. Tyrone moaned around your pussy. “So fucking good. So fucking delicious,” he moaned. His moans caused your own. You pulled at the restraints but it was no use. You leaned forward so you could watch him. 

His eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed as he licked and sucked and tasted you. The stirrings of your orgasm steadily built inside of you, cresting the surface. Your thighs tightened around his head. 

Tyrone slowed down and moved away from your clit, drawing circles around your entrance. 

“Oh, please baby. Please,” you begged. “Don’t tease me,” you said. 

He only chuckled and kept up what he was doing. Your orgasm went away and then he went back to work, slowly building it up again. Your body shivered. Sweat broke out over your skin, drenching you and the pillows beneath you. 

Your bottom lip quivered as you watched Tyrone give and take. Made your legs shake and then retreat until your body relaxed. “Oh fuck, please, please,” you moaned. 

“Hm, let them hear you. Let them hear this pussy talk to me,” he moaned around your clit. 

Tick, tick, tick.

A clanging bell made you jump from the bed. The grandfather clock’s bells filled the room to near deafening sounds. Your gasps and moans stuttered and stopped. Tyrone went back to eating you out in earnest. Your eyes rolled to the clock’s face.

Both hands of the clock faced the number 12. “OH shit,” you moaned. Your back bowed off of the bed. Your orgasm came with a vengeance. Bending you in half, jerking your body beyond your control.

Sharp fangs sank into your thigh as your orgasm ripped through you. “Oh, oh,” you moaned, too lost to the sensation of him sucking on you. The sensation was different from if he were merely sucking on your skin. The pull of your blood from your thigh heightened your pleasure. 

Sight left you as you closed your eyes and rode the orgasm. You mumbled and sniffled, your body wracked with aftershocks. Tyrone licked up any run away drops of blood. He was a neat eater. 

He lifted his gaze to you. He licked a dark drop from his lips and moaned, his eyes flashing with a dim red glow. He kissed your thigh and nuzzled it with his face. The faint hairs of his beard and mustache tickled you and you moved away, trying to get him away from your sensitive thighs. He nibbled on your thigh, his fangs scraping against you.

You moaned. Your wrists ached from pulling against them. 

Tyrone sighed and hummed in satisfaction as he got up from the bed. He smoothed down his clothes, his tongue running the sides of his mouth as if he was still trying to glean any last drop of you. 

Your skin buzzed. Like an electric current ran through you. As if you touched a live wire and absorbed all those volts. Maybe it was his vampiric power or maybe it was just that strong of an orgasm from all of his edging. Either way, you were stuck in a daze as he went around the bed and untied you.

He kissed and rubbed the circulation back into your wrists. “We’re going to have to find something better for you,” he said.

Your pussy clenched. You didn’t necessarily want to be tied up, however, being at his mercy was erotic. The image flashed in your mind at what you must have looked like. He kissed your wrists and then up your arm, then your neck, and finally your jaw. 

“Please, can I touch you?” You asked. 

He rubbed your jaw with his thumb and tilted your head up. He kissed you, a faint sense of copper on his tongue. He hummed, the slight vibration against your lips sending shivers down your spine. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said. He grinned and leaned back, unzipping his pants, pulling out his dick and running the tip across your lips. 

Your tongue darted out and caught the bead of pre-cum. The taste of him made you purr. “Open up,” he said.

You opened your mouth, sucking him down with eagerness. His velvet head slid along your cheeks. You licked and ran your tongue along his thick, veiny dick. He hissed and groaned, his hand cupping the back of your neck and pushing you down. 

“This mouth is heaven,” he said. “Suck that shit down.”

You did as you were told, sucking him and made pleasing little noises every time more pre-cum filled your mouth. Your slobbering and drooling seemed amplified in the room. You kept going, grabbing his thighs and pulling him closer.

“You’re making everyone jealous, love. They wish they could fuck this mouth. See them disappear down that wonderful mouth,” Tyrone cooed as you pleased him. You gagged a bit and pulled back to get some proper breaths. When you calmed down, you took him deeper. Sucking harder. Going faster.

His fingers tightened against your neck. “So good, so good. Unhf, suck it. Suck it,” he moaned. 

He cursed as he climaxed, his sticky hot cum shooting down your throat, forcing you to swallow him down. “Good fucking girl,” he whispered, just for you. 

“Face them,” he said. You turned around on the bed, facing the windows. The tips of your ears burned. You had an audience and yet it was so easy to forget they were there. Tyrone was just that distracting. 

“On your back. Spread yourself for them. Let them see,” Tyrone said. 

You heard clothes rustling. You got on your back, spread your legs open. “Play with her for them,” he said. 

There was a sting in your thigh from where he bit you. It pulled a bit as you widened your legs and slipped your hand down to the center of you. You were a sopping wet mess. Your arousal and his spit mixed and and immediately coated your fingers. You moaned as you played with yourself for the audience. You leaned on your elbow and moved your other hand through your wet curls. 

“Faster. Let them hear you,” Tyrone said. 

You followed his command, letting your moans escape you and swell throughout the room. The grandfather clock continued to tick and tock. A slight breeze still floated through the room. It made you shiver. The cold air so delicious and welcome, to cool over the sweat on your skin. 

The bed dipped as Tyrone joined you. “Hmm, she ready to cum?” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you moaned. Tyrone nuzzled his fangs across your face, pecking kisses on any inch of available skin around your mask. He licked the shell of your ear. “Let her cum then,” he whispered in your ear. 

You cried out as your orgasm came on demand. You felt like you were being ripped apart, stretched into tiny atoms and flung across the universe. Scattered. Undone and broken. You were not in your body. You were above it. Floating and touching every corner of the universe. 

“So fucking pretty cumming. Cumming for them. They wish they could fuck you like I can,” Tyrone whispered as you came. A distant anchor trying to pull you back to the real world. “I don’t want to share you though. I don’t want anyone touching what’s mine. Your body is mine. Your orgasms are mine. You are mine.” 

He punctuated every declaration with a kiss. Each kiss dragged you back to your body. Each one a new stitch to keep you together.  

Tyrone hauled you to him, lifting you to straddle his meaty thighs. He was deceptively built. He didn’t seem that solid until you took in his naked body. Thick muscle on top of more muscle. Your legs were still open and your arousal pooled on the bed. You were making a giant mess. You moaned, your body spent. 

Tyrone kissed your neck as his hands went down to your pussy. You flinched, lifting away from him. “Mhm, don’t run away now,” he said.

His fingers dipped inside your pussy and you cried out, your body trying to escape him. He held fast to you, his left arm across your chest. His fingers played and tugged with your nipples, eliciting more moans from you.

“Is she ready for this dick?” He asked.

“Unhuh,” you moaned. 

Fangs sank into your shoulder and you whined, that electric voltage returning. You desperately clenched his fingers, wishing it was his dick instead. He added a third finger and curled his fingers. Rubbing against the right spot.

“Oh, oh shit. Wait, unf, fuck,” you moaned. He kept curling them, flicking it back and forth inside of you. Your climax was swift and merciless. You were in the beyond space. Beyond sight, sound, or hearing. That beyond place that you rarely went to with a partner or solo.

Your body was bowed tight like a violin string. Sounds and sighs escaped you, an incoherent mix of pain and pleasure. That fine line you walked so carefully. 

“Aww, look how she weep for me,” Tyrone cooed. You flooded his fingers with fresh slick. He pulled his fingers out and waved them across your clit. Juices flung every which way. Another orgasm surged right behind the last one. “Uh-uh-uh,” your mouth had no breath to form any words. 

As you floated down, Tyrone pulled you around with inhuman speed. He entered you, in one fell swoop, and your head dropped down onto his shoulder. He wrapped your legs around his waist and he sat on the bed. You both sat up straight, his arms wrapped around your back.

Your hands were wrapped around his shoulders, hugging him close. Your heels crossed on the bed, sitting completely in his lap.

“Ride that shit, love. Don’t make me do all the work,” he said.

You don’t know how, but you found the strength to move. To grind down on his dick. His silky dick stretched you completely, the thick member moving in and out of your wet walls. You bounced on his dick. Both of your moans created a delicious song of sin. 

He crushed you to him as if he were trying to pass through your skin. Your breasts rubbed against his chest. Your nipples mashed against his smooth bronzed skin. “Oh fuck, right there. Please, right there,” you moaned.

“Take it, love. Take it,” he grunted. 

Your hips worked in tandem with his. You bit his shoulder. You weren’t strong enough to pierce his skin. But he groaned and told you to bite him harder. Leave the impression of your teeth there. Mark him. 

Your pussy squeezed his dick. You were a vice grip, connecting you both and not letting go. 

Tyrone kissed your neck, your mouth. Your tongues danced together and you licked his fangs, a scratch forming on your tongue. Blood seeped into his mouth and he groaned, snapping his hips harder, fucking into you rougher. 

“Feel so good, so good. Fuck me, fuck me,” you moaned. 

“Forever. Mine, all mine. Oh fuck, all mine,” he said. His dick twitched inside of you. You were so close, so close…

He leaned back and sank his fangs into your chest, right above your right breast. “Oh fuck, baby,” you whined slowly.

He snapped his hips, somehow sinking even deeper and hitting that sweet spot inside of you. You were as limp as a rag doll as your orgasm rose once more, dragged to the surface by his relentless pace. 

“Tyrone!” You cried as you came. You threw your head back, growled your orgasm to the ceiling. To the audience beyond. To the stars themselves. Your orgasm made your walls clench, guzzling him down, and he came with you. 

He unloaded inside of you, hot and pulsing. He kept going, filling you up more and more. The wet and squishy sound of him still fucking you made you moan. He sucked on the wound in your chest, sucking down more of your blood. 

As he finished pulsing and twitching inside of you, he pulled back. He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth and then crashed his lips to yours. 

“Can’t get enough. Never enough.” 

You kissed him back just as desperately. So at a loss for words. He rubbed your back as your foreheads pressed together. You caught your breath, yours so much louder than his. He didn’t truly need to breathe, but some human functions transcended death. His brain still forced him to draw in air and it fanned across your damp skin. 

He looked into your eyes and smoothed away some sweat. He smiled, his fangs flashing. He licked your lips and then kissed you one more time. His hands floated down to your ass and squeezed. 

“The things I’m going to do to you tonight will make the Devil himself jealous,” he said.

&&&

This has been turned into a series! Read the rest here: Midnight Sin Masterlist. Make sure to read the prequel!

If you need some more in your life, here ya go! The Secret Tyrone Files

[megamindsecretlair]

Could you do a quick one shot where someone tries to flirt with the reader from vampire Tyrone. How does he react?

Chapter 5 Chapter 7

Midnight Sin - Chapter 6

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Public sex, PIV, cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Mentions of blood, overstimulation. Slighty bratty reader. The concept of "rolling" is brought up when Tyrone is able to hypnotize reader, but it is consensual. Exhibition kink. This one is a littler darker, reader gets aroused by violence and violent thoughts. Non-inclusive language used.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. Back in Tyrone's world, full of heavy clouds of lust in the air, Tyrone catches you flirting with another man and he loses his mind.

Word Count: 4,101k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Woooo, had to get this one off my chest! Are you sneaking a look at my outline, anon?? I swear I love jealousy in fiction! I don't tag ageless blogs. Toss a comment or reblog to save a writer!

Taglist: @planetblaque @westside-rot @umber-cinders @kindofaintrovert @notapradagurl7 @twocentuar @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @beenathembo @theyscreamsannii @lovedlover @henneseyhoe @dayjlovesromance @melaninpov @blowmymbackout @miyuhpapayuh @soft-persephone @eggnox @browngirldominion @longpause-awkwardsmile @slippinninque @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @nworbaij

You felt desired. You bravely walked through the room in nothing but your panties and black high heels, parading around. Back at Tyrone’s sex house, he had been teasing you all night. He combined rolling with wine, and fingering with powerful kisses so now you were in a sex-crazed brain fog and loving every second. 

You asked him to roll you and make you do something. It was a sign of extreme trust and you didn’t know where it came from. You only wanted to see what it was like once. If he could truly make you do anything and if you would remember or if it would feel like a dream. 

You also told him that if he did anything that crossed one of your hard lines, he’d never see you again. Vampire or not. He promised to behave himself. You’d had many, many talks about your boundaries and his. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable.

That was why you were comfortable letting him roll you all night. God. If they could bottle this feeling and sell it, it’d be the fastest selling drug to ever exist. 

The other vampires and donors, who were members of Tyrone’s club, looked at you as if you were the sexiest thing in this room. Tyrone rolled you to make you strip slow for him and walk around with your breasts out.

Getting pounded in front of a mirror was one thing. It felt like you and Tyrone were the only two people in the room, though he constantly reminded you that there was an audience. And they loved seeing you. 

You still had your wits about you, but you had to do what Tyrone asked you to. You wanted to. Your clothes were too hot and itchy and you clawed them off, relishing the cool air that rushed over your skin. 

The way Tyrone stared at you…like he wanted to eat you made you desperately horny. And now others stared at you too while you walked around. You modeled for them. Modeled your body. Modeled everything your mama and God gave you. And the men nodded appreciatively. The woman gave you knowing smirks. 

You’d never felt more alive. More in control. Turn around for me. Tyrone’s voice whispered through your mind. You turned around, eyes searching for Tyrone. He stood at the other end of the playroom, one of many in his giant ass mansion. This one had dark walls and low lights strung across it.

In the middle of the room, there was a platform where a scene played out of a male vampire getting dominated by his female donor. She cracked the whip against the man’s flesh and tortured ecstasy sprang from his lips. Some in the room watched. There were chairs, tables, and couches set up around the room and some took advantage. There was also a room or three in the back for people who wanted a little privacy.

You, however, only had eyes for Tyrone. He only wore his briefs, so his chest was out and shining against the lighting. He would be an angel if he wasn’t a confirmed devil. You grinned in his direction. He was so gorgeous. So sexy. So otherworldly you wanted to pinch yourself. Come here.

Your foot moved without a second thought from you. You were aware that he was still in your mind, still commanding you. But you couldn’t stop moving towards him if you tried. It was freaky and exciting. 

Kneel and crawl.

You stopped and then lowered yourself to your knees. Your wet pussy squelched and you bit back a moan. You were achingly wet, so hungry for Tyrone’s dick that you were ready to sing for it. You crawled to Tyrone, eyes eagerly on his. 

He smirked and let you stop, not wanting you to hurt your knees on the rough floor. A loud crack split the air as the whip hit the vampire again. His moan was longer this time. He was getting his. Why the hell couldn’t you get yours?

Tyrone closed the distance and stared into your eyes. “Come back,” he said. His voice echoed in your mind. You felt like you were getting yanked through a pit of darkness. 

“Come back,” he repeated. That pit of darkness was endless. You weren’t afraid just…reverent. Like there was something in the darkness with you that recognized a kindred spirit and winked.

Like death.

“Come back.” His voice stopped echoing and you stopped feeling the flighty, floaty feeling of rolling. It was a trip being pulled back into reality, but Tyrone wanted to give your mind a rest. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

You nodded. You wanted to tell him about the odd visions and feelings in your mind whenever he rolled you. You weren’t sure if it would give him concern or if he would stop. You had lunch with Nikki tomorrow. You needed more answers.

Tyrone answered as much as he could, but it seemed like he acknowledged that you were unprepared but was unwilling to teach you more. If there was something bad waiting for you at the end of this, you were going to be pissed.

Tyrone kissed your cheek and held your hands. “I’m going to make sure everyone is behaving and bring you some water,” he said. “That means you behave too.”

You smiled at him. He was so damn cute. “I always behave myself,” you said.

Tyrone shook his head and moved away lightning fast. You moved about the room. No one approached you. No one talked to you. You could only guess that it was Tyrone’s doing. Everyone too busy being afraid of him than to extend a hand to you. 

They still looked at your body, at your breasts. They could probably smell how needy you were. How wet you were, clenching around nothing. Wishing Tyrone would go on and fuck you.

You were surrounded by debauched people, each giving in to carnal desires right before your eyes. You scooted around a couch where a couple was practically in each other’s laps. They got each other off, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. 

There was still the vampire on stage. You stopped and stared at him, at his prone form in supplication to his donor. She was a gorgeous, thick Black woman with tightly curled hair in puff balls on her head. She wore nothing but high heels, digging that heel into his side.

“Are you okay, baby?” The donor asked.

“Yes, yes, yes,” the man said, chanting like he wasn’t really here anymore. Even though the donor was in charge, there was genuine love and affection between them. They constantly checked in on each other, knowing exactly when to push and when to pull back.

Would that be you and Tyrone one day? Would you let everyone look at you while Tyrone dominated you so publicly? Your thoughts turned sour as you imagined a future with Tyrone. One in which you start to get older, wrinkly. If you managed to live that long.

“I thought these things were supposed to be arousing. Why you frownin’?” Tyrone asked from behind and off to the side of you. You started to turn around.

“Mhm, eyes forward,” he said. He sounded…different. Like his voice got deeper or he scratched his vocal cords on something. Tyrone’s voice was always deep, but this one seemed different. 

You faced forward, interested in this new game of Tyrone’s. You watched the couple on stage.

“I am aroused,” you said. If he would fuckin’ touch you, he’d know that. Maybe you just weren’t used to denying yourself an orgasm. Your previous lovers were ehh. Certainly nothing to write home about. Certainly nothing like Tyrone who could say two words and have your panties dropping to the floor. 

Your pussy throbbed and you rubbed your thighs together. Your panties were ruined at this point. You wanted to be ruined.

“Why do you smell so good?” He asked. He took a deep sniff and you shivered.

You huffed, the breathy sound burning your lungs. You were out of your mind with desire. You didn’t have another rolling in you if he didn’t touch you. Your body felt acutely aware of everything he did. He stepped closer, running a finger down your side.

You moaned, that much contact from him was too much to bear. Your skin tingled where his finger had been. Your breathing increased, feeling like a rabbit caught in a wolf’s path. 

Tyrone stepped even closer, dropping a simple kiss to your neck. He smelled different. You tilted your head, confused about his presence. Something was telling you that something was off. Something was wrong with Tyrone.

You turned your head but Tyrone roughly grabbed your chin and pushed it away from him. “You are too damn beautiful to be standing here by yo’self,” he said. 

“Ty-” You went to say but he was suddenly away from you. Snarls filled the room. You turned to your left and then did a double take. 

Tyrone stood next to…Tyrone. There were two of them? There were two of them. Only, the other wasn’t half dressed like everyone in the room. He still wore dark jeans and a hoodie. His hair was wilder, kinkier, sticking up and away from his head. He had a bigger beard than your Tyrone and grills in his mouth. 

He smiled, running his tongue along his golden, elongated canine tooth. He gave your Tyrone a wink. “Little brother,” he said. He held out his hands as if inviting your Tyrone in for a hug. 

You were so confused, your head bobbing back and forth like you were watching a tennis match. The intensity of the room seeped away to curiosity and nosiness. The moans and groans and curses stopped. There was only your Tyrone and the…other Tyrone. You were still trying to wrap your mind around that.

“She’s mine, Fontaine,” Tyrone said. There was your man. Deep voice, but with a thick LA accent. 

Fontaine, the other Tyrone, tilted his head at you. His eyes raked over your body but you didn’t feel the need to cover up. Everyone saw your body tonight, he’d already gotten an eyeful. “Must be special, little brother,” Fontaine said. 

He looked at you and his red eyes seemed to swirl in the low lighting. His face clouded over like he’d just inhaled something delicious. “Smells really good in here,” he said. He stepped in your direction and Tyrone punched him. 

“She’s mine,” Tyrone said once more. 

Fontaine smiled, blood pooling in his mouth before he licked his lips. “Heard you the first time,” he said.

“Tyrone, what the hell is this?” You asked. 

Tyrone rolled his neck and then looked at you. He held out his hand but you were too nervous to take it. He looked feral. Animalistic. But you still got the sense that he was holding back. That he refused to show you the monster beneath. 

You stepped closer but only eyed his hand. If you touched him, you’d get distracted. Tyrone was a sin in and of himself. One touch and then you’d be on hands and knees sucking him off. 

He withdrew, staring at his lonely hand before turning to Fontaine. “This is my brother, Fontaine,” Tyrone said. He introduced you by your name and Fontaine said it a few times, getting the hang of it. 

“Nice to meet you,” Fontaine said. 

“Tyrone? Explain?” You asked.

“My brother is usually on the East Coast or overseas. It’s rare for him to make it back West. It’s been some time since he’s been here last,” Tyrone said. 

“I didn’t even know you had a brother,” you said. You looked at Fontaine. They were eerily similar. And yet wildly different. Fontaine seemed rougher around the edges. Like he liked to pull on girl’s hair while he disrespected your soul. 

“Tyrone don’t never talk about me. He knows I’m usually the one picking up the pretty girls,” he said with a wink. You rolled your eyes, but smiled a little. The next punch to Fontaine’s face made you gasp. 

You didn’t see Tyrone move. You didn’t see him cross the short distance and knock Fontaine’s head to the side. Red fire lit up Tyrone’s eyes as he looked at his brother. Fontaine wiped his mouth, another bloody smile for Tyrone. 

“I’m going to find some hole to stick this long dick into. You get tired of him, find me,” Fontaine said. He winked at you and then looked at Tyrone. “I’ll see you later.”

The threat was evident in Fontaine’s tone. He slunk off through the room, leaving entirely. Tyrone had other playrooms, you’d yet to see them all. You wondered what else Fontaine was into. 

“Did he touch you?” Tyrone asked. 

“I thought it was you,” you said, biting your lip. Fuck. Did you screw all of this up? Were your days of being a donor over now because he never told you to be on the lookout for someone who looked and talked like him? 

“Where?” Tyrone asked. He stepped closer to you, hands gripping your arms. It wasn’t hurtful. It was more like desperation. Like you were the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. If he let go, there was no telling where his mind would go. 

You floundered for what to say. Fontaine hadn’t really done anything bad to you. Nothing worse than what you dealt with on a daily basis growing up a woman. Tyrone looked so pissed…until his dick slapped against your thigh. You looked down at the growing tent in his pants. He was…turned on? 

“He only touched my side. And kissed my neck,” you said. 

Tyrone’s nostrils flared. Without a word, he moved from the room. There were too many people looking at you. Vampires with fangs bared like they wanted some of what you were having. You were confused and horny and you weren’t sure if you wanted answers at the exclusion of a dicking down, or to hope you getting dicked down didn’t mess with your desire to have answers. 

Tyrone dragged you up the stairs and to his side of the house. In his bedroom, no sooner had he closed the door than did he slam your back against it. His kiss was punishing, hard, and rough. 

His breathing fanned over your face. He panted so hard like he’d just run a marathon. He ran his thumb over your lip, cupping your jaw and tilting your head. “You’re mine,” he said.

His dark, red eyes still had that feral glint. He wasn’t all there, not truly. You weren’t sure where his mind went. But you hoped he stayed there a little longer. You liked that he was taking off the kid gloves. You wanted to see him unleash that tight hold on his control. 

“Is that so?” You asked. You didn��t know where this wild, reckless part of you was coming from. This fascination with toying with a deadly creature. It was like you were flirting with your own mortality. You’d spent so long worried about the curse, that you started to admire it. Study it. Tease it. 

Tyrone’s grip tightened around your neck. You groaned, tilting your head up and rolling your eyes. Tyrone stepped closer, pushing his erection against your belly. 

“I’m not fuckin’ around right now. I’ll allow a lot of things, little doll, but this ain’t one of them. I’ll kill anybody that look in your direction,” he said.

Shivers wracked your body. You stared into his red eyes. He had to know, right? He had to sense how turned on you were. You rubbed against his erection, palming him. He hissed and moved away. He used his free hand to grab your wandering one and pin it against the door. 

You still had your left hand free and you moved it closer to his body. You slipped your fingers beneath his black briefs. He was still shirtless from your little game earlier. When you found his dick once more, you rubbed him.

“I can’t be held responsible for shit you didn’t tell me,” you said.

Tyrone’s eyes widened before he smirked. “You trynna be cute right now?” He asked.

“Telling the truth,” you said.

Tyrone chuckled. Too fast for your brain to comprehend, your cheek was pressed against the cool, smooth wood. One of Tyrone’s hands pinned both of your wrists behind your back. You hadn’t felt like you moved. One minute you faced him, one minute you didn’t.

Tyrone leaned down and bit your ear. Hard. You cried out, a big wave of arousal flooding your panties again. “Ty-Ty–” You shivered.

“I’on usually deal with brats, so we gon’ fix you,” he said. 

He moved behind you and then he was pulling your panties to the side, grabbing his dick and swirling it through your dripping entrance. You cried a wretched sound. You were incredibly sensitive. Too sensitive.

He hadn’t done anything yet and you were ready to explode. He got the tip wet with your juices and then slipped inside you. You gasped, bucking away from the door. Tyrone shushed you, kissing along your ear and neck. He found a spot just below your ear that made you giggle. It felt good, but was too sensitive to hold for long. 

“Nothin’ more to say? It only took one hit?” He teased, nibbling on your ear. He could bite into you at any moment. You didn’t tell him, but you loved when he drank from you. When he gained energy just by biting into your soft flesh. 

“If that’s all you got, then you can’t really claim me,” you said, taunting him back. 

Tyrone chuckled. He looped his arm around your torso, grabbing hold of your titty like he was holding a liferaft. His fingers toyed with your nipples while he started to stroke roughly, making you take his big dick. Incoherent moans left you, crying with every deep stroke. 

“This pussy know who own it,” he growled in your ear. “Feel how wet she is. Takin’ this dick too fuckin’ well.” He moaned in your ear and you nearly came undone right then and there. 

He stroked deeper, groaning as he found a new angle. “My fuckin’ pussy,” he moaned.

He stroked harder and it sounded like you were stirring thick cake batter. It was wet. It was lewd. Tyrone had you against the door like he couldn’t wait for the bed. Like he needed you at the first opportunity you weren’t around other people.

Like he couldn’t wait. Like he needed you.

Tyrone had your arm pinned so you couldn’t leverage yourself against him. Your heels dug into the carpet of his room and you were amazed that you hadn’t toppled over yet. “Oh fuck!” You shrieked. “Dick feelin’ so good.” 

“I know it do. This all mine,” he said. To prove his point, he angled his hips against until he was thrusting up and hitting that perfect spot that made your eyes cross. You climaxed, screaming to the rooftop with the force of your orgasm. 

It was unbelievable. Primal. Beast and prey. Prey and beast. There was nothing but the underlying drive to fuck. To copulate. To poke and be poked. 

You shook on Tyrone’s dick while he continued to stroke. “Mhf, gonna fuck this shit outta this pussy till you beg me to stop,” he moaned.

“Don’t stop,” you moaned, twitching on his dick while he continued to take his pleasure from your body. 

“Can’t stop,” he groaned. The sound of him deep in it made you moan even louder, rivaling him at this point. You loved a vocal man. The way he didn’t care about what he looked or sounded like. Your pussy was just that damn good where he couldn’t stay quiet. He had to let you know. 

Whether it was by the way he squeezed your nipples past the point of pain, or your wrists bound by his hand, or the wet and aggressive smack of his balls on your clit. 

“Fuuuuck,” Tyrone moaned, unleashing a hot sticky load into you. You moaned, dropping your head against the door. 

Still, Tyrone kept fucking you. The force of his dick inside was keeping you upright. You slid up and down his dick like he was your personal toy and you squealed and moaned. “Don’t fuckin’ stop, don’t fuckin’ stop,” you moaned. You were on the heels of another orgasm. 

Tyrone kept his same pace, but angled his hips again. He pushed into your hips until you were practically flush with the door. He dropped your nipple and it grazed the door. You hissed from the cold and it bloomed into unnameable pleasure. 

Tyrone slapped your ass, moaning as your ass jiggled from it. “So fuckin’ gorgeous. I’ll never let anyone else have you,” he moaned.

And fuck if that thought didn’t send you over the edge. Your nails clawed at the door as you whined, panting, huffing, lungs burning, and knees wobbling. You felt like you were being burned from the inside out and you liked it. 

As if sensing your thoughts, Tyrone cursed through an orgasm of his own, your name on his tongue. His hips jerked and twitched, but he still sloppily slammed into you. His cum began to seep out of you, leaking down your legs. You moaned from the weird sensation. You were full and not full enough.

Each encounter with Tyrone felt like he was splitting you in half. You lived in a sea of dichotomy. Living in excess and moderation. Bliss and pain. Where ‘stop’ hovered on your lips but your brain knew not to make you say. 

Your mind drifted into some other realm. A space in your mind where you were at home in your body. Completely in yourself and not only feeling the pleasure, but your overly analytical brain finally shut off. 

A silent hum of pleasure vibrated along your skin. His hand massaged your ass. His other had your wrists against your lower back. Sweat dropped from him and onto your back and ass. Sweat gathered in all of your crevices. 

Huffing pants of ecstasy filled the air. Tangled with moans and soft fucks. “I-ca-can–” You stuttered.

“Sure you can. You was big and bad earlier, where that go?” He asked. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to apologize. To take it back. But Tyrone wasn’t done. He slowed down, letting more of his cum slip out of you before pushing back in. You heard the wet noises and it made you clench harder around his dick.

For what seemed like hours, there was a call and response to your orgasms. Tyrone came over and over inside you, an endless supply of cum. He said he had decades worth of cum to give you. Every time he came, you were hot on his heels. Coming with loud, raucous moans. Your throat was dry and ragged.

No more than bursts of air escaped you. Your face was covered with tears and snot. You lost track of how many times you came. You were going to be sore as fuck in the morning. You were sore now. Tyrone absolutely bullied your pussy and the sick part of you wanted to hurry and recover so you could do it all over again.

“No more,” you whispered. Tyrone panted beside you. Rivulets of sweat ran down his body. He smirked. 

“No more, little doll,” he said. He planted a kiss on your forehead. He massaged feeling back into your arms, having been kept in the same position too long. He apologized but that was the least of your worries.

The floor beneath you was wet with your combined, nasty juices. Your legs wobbled with aftershocks from a deep fucking and you sighed dreamily, ready to fall asleep. You thought getting fucked to sleep had been a myth when you were younger. Tyrone changed all notions about that.

You didn’t notice that Tyrone had lifted you and placed you on the bed. You didn’t notice that he was placing you down into a warm hot bath. He slid in behind you and kissed your neck and back, cleaning you off from what you shared. You tried to kiss him back, but he told you to relax.

“Don’t you fuckin’ say sorry neither,” you mumbled before you passed out, tucked softly into his bed. This wasn’t his resting place, but it damn sure smelled like him. Like home. You curled up and went right to sleep.

Masterlist | Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

[megamindsecretlair]

Can you do more smit with vampire Tyrone. Like how did they meet, how did the reader find out Tyrone was a vampire? How did they fall in love?

A Seduction at Midnight Prequel

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. No smut. Cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Mentions of stalking and manipulation. Mean-ish reader.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. And when he tells you he's a vampire, did you really believe him?

Word Count: 4,143k

This has now been turned into a series! Read here: Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Since I don't know how to lay my ass down, enjoy a little vamp Tyrone prequel! How did they meet? The previous fic, they weren't actually in love. Reader is just down bad. I mean, wouldn't you be? Thank you so much for the ask, this was fun! No smut, because the party was the first time they had sex, sorry! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland

Tyrone

Tyrone knew better. He knew better than to go out among the mortals. The stench of them was unbearable. Every year, humans found more and more ways to debase themselves. They don’t wash, they don’t eat properly, and they drown themselves in buckets of artificial smells. It buried the scent of their blood and he hated it all.

However, his business partner encouraged him to come to the club tonight. Slick Charles was a fast talking, smooth operator that could sell water to a fish. He was ruthless in matters of business. Fed up with hearing his begging, Tyrone decided to come out for one night only.

He much preferred the solitude of his property. Even the parties were starting to dull him. Seen one orgy, you’d seen them all. 

Tyrone reclined on the couch in the VIP section, a booth reserved only for him. It faced the dancefloor below, the bar area, the private tables, and the front door. He watched over everything. Watched how the mortals filled their short lives with bigger and louder and messier.

“We doin’ real well, ‘round here Tyrone. Real well. If we weren’t so exclusive, we could snatch up licensing rights quicker than a ho on the wrong corner,” Slick Charles said. Tyrone half listened.

He sat with legs crossed, his hands resting on his knees. The sunglasses he wore did little to dim his vision but it kept the curious ones from making comments about his eyes. 

And then he saw you. You were down by the bar, leaning over it in a sinful red dress that left little to the imagination and yet, still covered much of your body. Only the middle was cut out, thin straps crossing over your tummy. You kicked up one leg, showing red bottom “fuck me” heels. Your body dimensions were out of this world. 

Tyrone kept watch while you flirted with the bartender to score free drinks. Slick Charles was still droning on, but Tyrone made a mental note to address the bartender issue. You carried the trio of drinks to a private table with two other women dressed similar to you. Their dresses were much shorter, scantily clad, with pieces of material over their bodies. Barely enough to call it a dress. 

Tyrone took a deep breath, sifting through scents until he was sure he smelled you. Something natural and earthy, like fresh rain. The more he took in your scent, the more his mouth salivated. 

Your scent hit him like a ton of bricks. Your blood sang to him. Called to him. Tyrone lowered his glasses, looking at you over the top of them. You were intoxicating. How were you still unmarked? How had no one claimed you yet? 

“See, what I was thinking was at least one other club. Like on the east coast maybe. I did such a good job here, I know I can bring that Slick Charles flavor over there, know what I mean?” 

“Slick,” Tyrone said.

“Yeah?” 

“We’re not franchising. Who is that?” Tyrone kept his eyes on you, too afraid that if he looked away, you’d disappear and take that tempting aroma with you. You were a temptress. Sent here to provoke him.

“Duncan, party of three,” Slick responded. “I didn’t get all of their names.”

A kernel of anger coursed through him. How dare you smell so good? He licked his lips. He had to have a taste of your blood. Hunger pains made him place one hand over his stomach. He hadn’t reacted this strongly in centuries. He could hardly recollect what happened then. 

Tyrone replaced his shades and watched as you mingled with your friends, drinking and clinking your glasses. He longed to hear what you sounded like, what you tasted like.

You

You were so fuckin’ sick of your bitchy friend. You smiled and clinked glasses with them and encouraged London to take another shot. You looked to your other friend, Amanda, and you shared a look. 

London was back on her “I hate Carlos” bender, which meant going out nearly every night in too tight dresses and heels, cruising for men she wasn’t going to take home. As soon as her Instagram blew up with pictures of her having fun, dressed up sexy, and hanging onto random men, Carlos would call. 

He’d beg and cry and sniffle until she took him back and it was another few months before they were breaking up again. You and Amanda had long ago stopped trying to get in the middle of that bullshit. You were sick of the cycle. 

You were not looking for a man and you hated how pushy these dudes were. They sent over drinks, tried to sidle up to the table, grabbed your waist to try and pull you onto the dancefloor. 

You wanted to stick your stiletto in their eyes. You wanted to scratch or maim them. Teach them a lesson about putting hands on women they don’t know. Who fuckin’ raised these animals? 

Maybe you were just too old for the club scene. You were approaching your 30s and you were fucking over it. All of these men were raised in the barn. Worse, they were raised under the barn. They stunk, their breaths were horrible, and didn’t have two nickels to rub together but wanted to buy you a drink. Please.

So, no, you didn’t want the hustle and bustle of meeting someone, finding out they weren’t shit, and getting back into the rat race. 

You rolled your eyes as London took another fuckin’ selfie with her drink. You had been here an hour and you wanted to dip. You longed for a bath, some smell good, and the next trashy program you could binge watch. You locked eyes with Amanda again. She rolled her neck and gave you a pointed look.

Yes, you were seeing this mess. And yes you were over it. Amanda was the one who came up with the idea of the table. She thought that by supplying London with alcohol and posting all night, you could avoid the drunken desperation of finding any guy that would take a picture with her. You did not have the strength to fight off another fuck boy. 

You watched over your friend like a boring mom-friend, wasting your good dress, until she finally got a like from Carlos. “See! Knew that fucker was watching my stories!” 

“Why don’t we call it a night? This place is dead,” you said. The place actually looked fun. It had good, grown and sexy vibes. There was ambient lighting all around, shadless bulbs hanging down from the ceiling. The music was grown too. Music you could either dance or fuck to.

The floor itself was spacious with enough room for people to actually breathe. The club limited how many people came in at once. It was a huge place, two levels. The top floor was for the real VIPs. Celebrities, CEOs, billionaires, royalty, or people with that much money to throw around.

Maybe you’d have to come back here with Amanda, without London. “Yeah, it’s no fun when there’s no guy to make him jealous. All these mu’fuckas ugly anyway.”

Sweet-fucking-music to your ears. You gathered your things and slipped out of the booth. You linked arms with Amanda as you waited for London to scoot her tiny ass out of the booth.

“Think they’ll notice if I wear this back here?” You asked.

“Girl no, didn’t nobody fuckin’ see it,” Amanda said.

You laughed with her. “You right, you right.” 

Amanda placed her hands on London’s shoulders to steady their drunk friend. Maybe their plan worked a little too well. “Why he gotta act like that?” 

You turned your head and rolled your eyes. Crying over a man? You could fuckin’ never. “Because men are pigs,” you said. What else was new? The sky was blue, fire was hot, and men weren’t shit.

You steered London out of the club. Sharp wind smacked you in the face as you left the warm interior. There was a line outside of hopeful people ready to get inside. 

Outside, you pulled your phone out of your clutch so that you could call up a ride for all three of you. “She can crash at my place tonight,” Amanda said. London went to sit on the curb, holding her head in hand as she scrolled through her pictures. 

“Are you sure?” You asked.

Amanda sighed and looked at London. “Might as well. I think you had her last time,” she said.

You agreed and moved to the side, out from under the streetlight to better see your phone. You typed as you moved. Something heavy slammed into your shoulder and you went careening to the side about to trip over your heels.

Strong hands encircled you and you steadied yourself. 

“Yo, what the fuck?!” You shrieked.

“Damn, bitch you don’t see me walking?” Some pimp-lookin’ wannabe looked you up and down. He wore a leather jacket over a black turtleneck and heeled boots. He looked like a damn clown. 

“The fuck did you just call me?” 

“Apologize to the lady!” A deep, smooth voice moved over you like chocolate. You looked into the face of the one who held you.

Damn. He was gorgeous. Rich, ebony skin. Faint facial hair. Neat cornrows. The sunglasses hid his eyes from you. But those lips. You stared at his lips as they moved. 

“...alright?” 

“Huh?” You asked. 

“Are you alright, miss?” He asked.

You told him your name. He let you go now that you weren’t in danger of falling on your ass. He held out his hand. You took it. His hand was so warm, near scorching. He brought your hand to his lips.

“I’m Tyrone,” he said.

You smiled at him. It had to be illegal to look that damn good. He wore an all black suit, nothing fancy, no jacket. There was a silver chain running from his vest to his pants pocket.

You giggled as his soft lips brushed your knuckles. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said.

Maybe…you needed to rethink your whole stance on men. He smiled without showing his teeth, still holding your hand. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? That was pretty rude of that man,” Tyrone said.

You shrugged. “Par for the course. Most men are rude,” you said.

“Well, then, I hope to be the exception.” 

***

Tyrone

Tyrone knew better. But he could not get you out of his mind. The night he met you was like a shock to his system. Rebooting the long frozen heart in his chest. You really had no clue how delectable you smelled. He wondered once again how you flitted through life with no one claiming you.

True, vampires were decreed to keep their activities hidden. Only allowed to keep three donors in rotation and even then, not keeping them for long. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to drink you like ambrosia through a straw.

Unbeknownst to you, Tyrone spent his nights learning your routine. A few keystrokes on the computer and he learned where you worked. Keystrokes later, he found your address. Every night since that meeting, he perched in the shadows of your place, looking for any glimpses of you. 

He knew when you came home that you locked your car and swiftly headed inside. Not bothering to search your surroundings. Careless. You did at least lock your doors. Your neighborhood was…cute. Seemed beneath someone as gorgeous and smart as you were. 

You were undervalued at the company you worked for. Yet, you seemed content with that. Why? 

Each new thing he uncovered about you only served to pique his interest more. He had pieces of you but the whole picture wasn’t clear. And it wasn’t enough. 

Tyrone watched you for weeks. You were none the wiser. Each night, he thought he’d finally give in and devour you. Your scent was its own temptation. Luring him half across the city. Begging for him to take you and claim you as his. 

But then you’d do something cute like tilt your head. Or wear another sexy dress that looked painted on your ass. His dick stirred on more than one occasion as he watched you. He yearned to bury himself in you. Wondered if your pussy tasted as good as you smelled. 

He didn’t know what the hell you were doing with your two friends. They seemed beneath you as well. He caught the way you’d look at them sometimes. Like you wanted to set fire to their hair with just your eyes. Why remain friends with them? 

In his nightly watches, he never caught a man sniffing around. None? How were you not beating them back with a stick? How did they not harass you day and night, wanting to be in your orbit? 

You ended up coming back to the club and he arranged another accidental bump into you, charming you into giving up your number. He already had it. But you didn’t need to know that. He ended up talking to you every second of the day and night. 

He had to explain that his job gave him an opposite schedule, sleeping all day and up all night. You seemed to buy it. 

He took you out on a few trips. Showing you LA at night. The LA Zoo hosted a special event where they set up lights to look like animals. You glowed in the neon light and Tyrone hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. 

But he held himself back. Only touched your hand or the small of your back to lead you through the crowd. He wanted you to crave his touch. He wanted you to seek out his comfort. So he held off on touching as much as possible.

You were probably used to men pawing at you. He endeavored to be the exception and that was what he was going to do. He took you to restaurants and museums. You marveled at how he was able to get you in after dark. He walked you through the galleries, regaling you with anecdotes about painters and artists. Some he knew in a previous life, but he couldn’t tell you that.

Eventually, you got curious about the shades. Strangely, he didn’t want to lie to you. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Tyrone said. 

“Try me,” you said. 

You had been going out for a few months and talking all the time. He knew the shades would be an issue at one point. Especially since it was clear he wasn’t blind. Tonight, he took you on a private Griffith Observatory trip. On the deck, he stood beside you and looked out over LA. 

“Do you believe in monsters?” 

“Like the boogeyman?” You sang.

“Naw, like vampires and werewolves,” he said. 

You giggled and shook your head. “Uh, no,” you said. 

“Why not?” He asked.

“Are you going to tell me about your glasses or not?” You asked.

Tyrone smirked. “C’mon, indulge me,” he said.

You shrugged and looked out over the cityscape. Why didn’t you?

You

Why would you have a reason to believe in monsters? Sure, you had the odd fantasy about them. The occasional smutty book about being at the mercy of one. But they were all cheap knock offs and underwhelming.

Pale, frigid beings that masqueraded as high school kids. Yuck. The fuck would a vampire want with jail bait? Even if they looked young, they weren’t young. They ought to know better. 

“I guess Hollywood made them too clean and sanitized. They’re actors with fake teeth. They don’t actually exist. What keeps them alive? Why blood? Where does it go?” You asked. 

“What if I told you they were real?” He asked.

You sucked your teeth. “I knew you were too pretty and perfect. There had to be something wrong with you,” you said.

You giggled, meaning it as a joke. But maybe there was some truth to it. Tyrone always held himself away from you. As if he were afraid that you’d break if he touched you too long. At first it was hot, but dammit. You were a modern woman with needs. Each successful date was like another nail of desire hammered into you. 

You lay awake at night, feverish. No one else had been able to rev you up like that. But any time you tried to get close, Tyrone found some excuse to keep his distance. Even when he dropped you off at home, he’d kiss your hand and ask when he could see you again. 

Tyrone smirked and rubbed his jaw. “What if I were serious? What if I told you that monsters are real and they’re out to steal your blood?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, what does that have to do with your shades?” 

Tyrone lifted his hands to his shades and tugged them off. He kept his red eyes trained on you. Wait..red? 

You backed up a step. He had deep, red rimmed eyes where people would normally have brown or blue. “What the –” 

“Don’t freak out,” he said. 

“Where’d you get contacts like that?” You asked. It looked so real. Like movie-grade real. 

Tyrone chuckled, not showing his teeth. “Naw,” he said. He licked his lips. He stalked closer. He bared his teeth, his canines longer than normal. Pointed and sharp. Sharp enough to pierce skin.

Your heart thundered in your chest. “You can’t really be serious, right?” 

Tyrone shrugged. He put his shades back on his face. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see. If you’ll still have me,” he said. He held out his hand and you looked at it.

Was this guy crazy? You weighed who he had been with what you were discovering tonight. Surely, he was just a vamp lover, like a furry. Right? You took his hand. Your curiosity would get you in trouble, but you weren’t done trying to discover what made Tyrone tick. You might regret it.

***

You

Tyrone took your questions with resounding patience. He answered them all. Yes, he drinks blood. Yes, he can run fast. No, he could not shapeshift into a bat. No, he couldn’t turn invisible. Garlic was just another abhorrent smell. Silver didn’t bother him. 

“C’mon, you really believe you’re a vampire?” You asked. 

Tyrone took off his glasses, safe to do so since you were walking along the outside of the Getty museum. The view was breathtaking. Nothing glowed like LA at night. The twinkle of the yellow and white lights never failed to make you feel alive. One among many but never truly alone. 

“Have we ever met in the daytime?” Tyrone asked. 

“Well, no but…c’mon,” you said. You couldn’t believe it. “Fangs” and red contacts did not equal a vampire. You didn’t know why you were reluctant to believe it. He seemed too alive to be dead. He breathed, he sighed, he ate food! 

Tyrone grinned, showing that hint of fang. The back of your thighs tingled. Desire pooling low in your belly. Everything about him turned you on. Still, he denied you. Only touched you when it was necessary.

When you were fed up with a dude, that was it. You were out of there. But Tyrone was intriguing. Interesting. He kept you guessing. Entertained. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do next. And you wanted to find out.

“Want me to show you?” He asked.

“How?” You asked.

One minute, you were standing outside the Getty. The next moment, you were at the bottom of the hill. You shrieked, holding onto Tyrone’s long sleeved shirt for dear life. You stared up into his flaming red eyes. His smile was predatory. 

In the next blink, you were back up the mountain outside the museum. He let you go and you moved away from him, backing into the railing so he couldn’t sneak up behind you. 

“You’re…”

He stood away from you, poised as if he were posing for a magazine. “A vampire. Like I’ve been telling you,” he said. That predatory grin was back. He stalked closer. You held your hand up. 

Your lip quivered. The mad dash up and down the mountain stole your breath and made you shiver. This was insane. Vampires? Like actual vampires? Blood-sucking vampires?

“So what? You were just playing with your food? Am I gonna end up on a T-shirt?” 

Tyrone

Tyrone shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone that far. You stood away from him. The flirty tone you always used with him was gone. Your beautiful eyes were wide, your breathing had increased.

Fuck. If he thought you smelled delicious before, your scent mixed with fear and it drove him wild. He took a step forward before he knew what he was doing. 

“No,” he said. He shook his head. He was under control. He could handle himself. “I’m not going to kill you. Would I have taken you on all of these dates if I was? I haven’t even touched you,” he said.

“Why is that?” You asked.

“I wanted you to know me before you found out. Find the man under the monster,” he said. 

You narrowed your eyes. Okay, he laid it on a little thick. But these dates only proved how obsessed he was with you. If no one else had claimed you, he was going to. He was going to have you.

Shit. Tyrone clenched his fists and stepped back from you. The tradition. How could he forget? He started the damn thing as a protective measure against discovery. He didn’t want to share you with the others. 

He also couldn’t leave you alone. Not until he finally got to taste you. Hold you. Move inside you. Even then, he wasn’t sure that’d be enough. 

“So, what? You were just going to date me until you asked for a drink from my wrist?” You weren’t as tense as before. You relaxed inch by inch. 

Tyrone approached you. He held up his hands as if to calm down a skittish deer. When he was close to you without crowding into you, you held up a hand.

“I just wanted to know you. You’re interesting,” he said.

“I’m interesting to a fuckin’ vampire?” You asked.

Tyrone nodded. He looked over you, over the olive green jumpsuit you wore. Your heels were going to be the true death of him. If he was lucky enough to take you to bed, you were keeping those on.

“The choice is always yours,” he said. Not. If he couldn’t have you one way, he’d sure as fuck find another way. “I can walk away right now. Leave you alone.” 

“No,” you said quickly.

A surge of triumph coursed through Tyrone. He felt like a fisherman with a tricky fish on the line. 

“I-I want to know more.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You bit your lip in that adorable way that made his dick twitch. You nodded and Tyrone answered with his own nod. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” 

True to his word, he did. He told you all about vampires and how to protect yourself over the next few dates. Though not all the ways. You would never get rid of him. Not if he could help it. He wanted to smell the sweetness coursing through your veins for the end of his days.

You were curious about him drinking your blood, even going as far to offer your wrist once. Tyrone declined and declined, giving you just enough hint to make you stomp your foot and beg for answers. 

He told you about the parties and why they were needed. He told you about the tradition. Each new donor was to be stripped and fucked and drunk from in front of the others. Mutually assured destruction. You could go to the cops, but you’d also have a room full of witnesses of you dallying with the devils. 

He expected you to balk then. To shut him up and resign yourself to keeping your virtue. To demand that he leave you alone and never speak to you again. Who would agree to such a thing? 

You had grinned. Perhaps you had a devil in you already. “Take me to one of the parties then,” you said.

You offered yourself up like a lamb to slaughter. How the hell did he get so damn lucky? 

“There’s no going back if I do,” he said. He ran his fingertips up and down your arm. 

“I want you to show me everything,” you said with a wide grin. 

Tyrone gave you a grin of his own, fangs and all. He pictured your descent into hell and relished the way he would eat you whole.

&&&

This has now been turned into a series! Read here: Midnight Sin Masterlist

Need more Tyrone in your life? The Secret Tyrone Files

[megamindsecretlair]

Midnight Sin - Chapter 4

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Long exposition that ends in smut. Oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving) PIV, cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. Mentions of blood, overstimulation. The concept of "rolling" is brought up when Tyrone is able to hypnotize reader, but it is consensual.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. Tyrone gets a visit from his brother and needs to see you to ease a little tension.

Word Count: 8,529k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: WHEW! Welcome back, ya'll. I ain't forget about our main man. I just got a little distracted. I hope this chapter makes up for the long absence. Thank you SO MUCH for all the love towards this series! It means the world to me! I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz

Tyrone

Tyrone sat in his office and flipped through his journal from his time in Versailles. He laughed at some of his entries. How young he was. How carefree. It was easier to hide during that time. No one really walked around in the day time except for the upper crust society and that was just to parade around for others.

The real happenings went on inside and in private rooms. There were other entries that he had long forgotten about. The friends he’d made. The loves he’d lost. An ache thumped in his chest and he absently rubbed it while he read. 

This was the part he hated. He had loved and lost, loved and lost over the centuries. The loss became so loud that it was easier to forget. Easier to live in the moment. Easier to be a coward and hide. 

However, he wrote so much shit down, he had no idea what Fontaine had been talking about. He briefly remembered the woman he shared with his brother. It ought to be criminal to forget someone that meant so much to them both, but when the years began to bleed together, he ejected core memories to stay sane.

A knock tore his thoughts from the memories of his youth. He called for the person to enter. 

Slick Charles entered wearing another outfit that made him look like a rent-a-pimp. Thick black turtleneck sweater, overcoat, and boots. It wasn’t even that fucking cold in LA but you’d swear they were in the middle of the arctic with the way he dressed.

He entered with a woman trailing behind him. She looked like a cartoon with exaggerated, doll-like features. A wide smile and puffy, afro-like hair. She was dressed modern with an airy, flowery dress and knee high boots. She clutched a large purse against her body and walked in warily.

“I don’t appreciate being summoned, mu’fucka,” she said.

Tyrone grinned. “Nice to see you too, Yo-Yo,” he said. He gestured for her to sit but she just looked at his chair. So he shrugged and stood up. She moved back a step and he held up his hands.

“I need you to look into something for me,” he said. 

“We agreed to leave our shit on the phone. Coming here is risky,” she said. 

“Everything worth doing is risky,” Slick Charles said. He looked Yo-Yo over, clearly interested in the woman’s amazing body. Tyrone wasn’t immune to Yo-Yo’s looks, but he knew better than to even sniff in a witch’s direction. Besides, he had you and that was all he wanted.

“I can’t risk this particular thing getting out. I need that confidentiality you’re so fond of,” Tyrone said. He put his hands in his pockets and stared her down, making sure she understood the importance of this meeting. 

Slick Charles closed the door and Yo-Yo jumped briefly. Tyrone sniffed but didn’t detect a hint of fear. No, Weavers didn’t fear things that went bump in the night. 

“I need to know about any supernatural creatures with blood that particularly calls to vampires,” he said. 

“Blood is kind of your thing,” Yo-Yo said. She walked further into the room but didn’t relax an inch. She looked around at his office, decorated in earth tones of brown and green. He had a couch, chairs, and bookshelf in the corner filled with his favorite books. 

“I know. This one’s a rare creature. It seems like only I can smell it. And it…makes me want to drain it dry,” Tyrone said. 

He didn’t want to admit any kind of weakness, least of all to a Weaver specifically, but he needed to know what you were. Maybe once he figured that out, he’d know how best to hide you. It was a miracle that you were able to survive so long. He wanted to keep it that way. 

“You sound like you’re talking about a Bloodsinger,” Yo-Yo said. She laughed and looked at Tyrone and then Slick Charles. 

“What’s that?” Tyrone asked.

“It’s a bedtime story for baby vamps and witches to explain why we hate each other,” she said. “But it’s just a story.” 

“Tell it to me,” Tyrone said. 

Yo-Yo shrugged. “I don’t even remember the shit, that’s how dumb it is. Something about your side used them in our war,” she said, waving her hand.

The name and description didn’t trigger anything in his brain. Then again, he’s lived so many fucking lifetimes, it was a wonder he remembered anything at all. Tyrone bent down and retrieved a briefcase from the side of his desk. He held it out for Slick Charles to take from him.

Slick Charles held it out to Yo-Yo who’s arm dropped when she held it. “This is more than my usual fee,” she said.

“I need this done fast, with discretion. Find out about that bedtime story. Spare no details,” he said. 

Yo-Yo raised her eyebrow. “Are you saying you found a Bloodsinger?” She asked.

Tyrone flexed his jaw but smiled. “Call it a passing pet project of mine,” he said. He bared a hint of his fang. She still wasn’t scared but that wasn’t his intention. He just wanted her to know the gravity of the situation. She could not let this get out. 

The last thing he needed was his Father catching wind. Yo-Yo nodded and hoisted the purse further on her shoulder.

“A little extra appreciation is a great motivator. Give me some time,” she said. 

Tyrone nodded. “Thank you,” he said. 

Yo-Yo nodded and casted a glance towards Slick Charles who stared at her like she hung the moon. “Fuck you lookin’ at, nigga?” She asked.

“Yo wig is sliding off,” Slick Charles said with a devious grin.

“Fuck you! Fake ass pimp,” she said. She rolled her eyes and went towards the door, opening it. 

Poised to knock on the other side was Fontaine. He looked from Yo-Yo to Tyrone to Slick Charles. His wide nose flared as he scented the air, scenting Yo-Yo as a Weaver. He grinned, showing off his gold grills. 

Yo-Yo scoffed. “Move nigga,” she said.

Fontaine made a show of stepping aside and letting her pass. “I’m Fontaine,” he called after her retreating form.

“I don’t give a fuck!” She called back. Her boots clicked away on the linoleum floor. Fontaine turned that grin on Tyrone and he fought a groan. The last thing he needed was Fontaine in his fucking business. 

Fontaine stepped inside. He wore dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and a brown jacket. He dug his hands in his pockets, mirroring Tyrone. It was still fuckin’ weird looking at his face on another person. It was why he avoided his other brothers, like Father’s little lap dog Charles. 

“Well, well, baby brother. The company you keep,” Fontaine said. 

Tyrone glanced at Slick Charles. He got the message and moved towards the door. He left, closing it behind him. It was just Tyrone and his brother. He liked it better when the fucker was overseas. 

“What are you doing here, ‘Taine?” Tyrone asked. 

“Missed you, baby brother,” Fontaine said. He sat down in the chair across from Tyrone’s desk, making himself comfortable. His smile was smug. Fuck. Was this how he looked when he had the upper hand?

“Why are you really here?” 

Fontaine took a deep breath. “I’m looking into what Pops been up to. I’m not sure what his plans are but he started this shit and I’ll end it. Been gone so long, started going around my old haunts. People started to think I was you.” 

Shit. Tyrone sighed and sat down in his seat. He settled in since Fontaine was in such a sharing mood. If people thought Fontaine was him, there was no telling how much in his business Fontaine already was. And the nigga hadn’t been here but a half a week. There was no limit to what he’d discover.

“What do you know?” 

“Heard someone’s trying to land a big hotel deal. That’d add nicely to your hospitality collection. Collecting them shits like Legos,” Fontaine said. He clasped his hands over his stomach. He was enjoying holding this shit over Tyrone’s head entirely too much. 

Tyrone bared his fangs. “Tell me what you trynna say, nigga,” Tyrone said. 

“Also heard someone is paying off other interested parties to outbid yo stupid ass,” Fontaine said. 

“Who?” Tyrone wracked his brain for his list of enemies. His list of allies was much shorter. He could count that on one hand. 

“Tell me what the witch was here for,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone rubbed his head. It took a lot more effort to get a headache as a vampire but Fontaine had an express lane to his last good nerve. 

“None of your business,” Tyrone said.

Fontaine clutched his chest in fake outrage. “We used to be so close, brother,” he said. He grinned, betraying his little act. 

Fontaine wasn’t going to give an inch so Tyrone sighed deeply. There were worse people to trust. For better or worse, he’d never gone to war with Fontaine over a betrayal. At the end of the day, they were still brothers. They shared the same face. To betray the other was like betraying themselves. 

“About what you said about Versailles,” he said. 

“Fuck outta here. They’re all dead,” Fontaine grinned and waved away Tyrone’s comments. But when he looked at Tyrone’s face, his grin dropped.

“Word? You found one?” Fontaine asked.

“Maybe. I don’t know what it is,” Tyrone said.

“You don’t remember the bloodlust or what we did?” Fontaine asked.

Tyrone leveled him with a stare and shook his head. “Spit it out, nigga,” Tyrone said. 

“I forget what they’re called but they were the witches’ most powerful weapon against us. Creatures created with blood that’s irresistible to vampires. One sniff and we lose our higher functioning. We so busy feeding, the witches would come up behind us and slit our throats. It was a rough fucking few centuries. The Council ordered their executions,” Fontaine explained.

The acrid scent of fear flooded the room and Fontaine’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Tyrone and swore a mile long. 

“You fuckin’ one, ain’t you?” Fontaine asked. “On the list of stupid shit, that’s at the top. Father will kill you for this.” 

“Only if that nigga find out,” Tyrone said and snapped his eyes to his brother’s. He let his feelings show on his face. The lengths he was willing to go through to protect you. 

Fontaine grinned. “Ain’t gon’ hear it from me. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Who’s trying to sabotage my deal?” Tyrone asked. He rubbed his head. He really needed to figure out what Yo-Yo would find out about the Bloodsingers. If Fontaine was right, you were in far more danger than just the wrong vampire scenting you. So far, it seemed like only he and Fontaine could smell you. He wanted to keep it that way. 

“Issac,” Fontaine said.

“Fucker,” Tyrone cursed and sighed. He had been having trouble with Isaac running around town acting like big man on campus. The mu’fucka was a hatin’ ass nigga with nothing better to do with eternity. 

If Tyrone moved left, Isaac switched lanes. If Tyrone got into real estate, Isaac was running around trying to buy up buildings Tyrone was looking into. Nigga didn’t have an original fuckin’ thought. 

Fuck the wrong bitch once and he never forgave Tyrone. It took a weak person to hold a grudge for centuries. But vampires were known for their patience. 

“Shoulda known that mu’fucka was on to me. I created a separate company just to get that building,” Tyrone said.

“Nigga got flies in your office. I ain’t know which ones yet. But if you quit all this animosity between us, I can keep an ear out for you,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone sighed. There it was. Fontaine never did anything out of the goodness of his own heart. 

“What do you want in exchange?” 

Fontaine grinned and seemed to savor the moment. He looked at his fingers. “Back my play to come home,” he said.

“What?” 

“Europe is fine but it ain’t like they’re that fuckin’ friendly to niggas that look like me,” he said. He grinned and looked back at Tyrone. 

“You want to come home,” Tyrone repeated. He tried to scent any deceit in Fontaine’s body but he didn’t find any. ‘Taine in the same world as him once more? It was dangerous. When they got together, they tended to end empires. Fuck shit up. Rip and run and threaten to expose their existence to humans. 

“I do. And I’m tired of being banished for being me,” Fontaine said.

“Being you? You almost exposed all of us!” 

Fontaine waved him off. “Maybe we need to stop fuckin’ hiding. That’s beside the point, nigga. I’m gonna find out what dear old Pops is up to and I’m gonna hold it over his head to stay here. ‘Cause whatever he’s fuckin’ up to, he sure as shit ain’t telling the Council.” 

Tyrone sat back in his seat, moving side to side while he pondered Fontaine’s request. Their father was the epitome of shady. Whatever his latest scheme was, he could believe that he was doing it behind the Council’s back. All they did over the centuries was play petty games of chess with each other. No one was honest on the Council. Everyone else was just pawns in their game. 

“Fine. You get my back, I got yours,” Tyrone agreed. Some part of him, in the further recesses of his cold dead heart, missed having his brother around. He wasn’t sure if they would get back to the camaraderie they had before. If they would be as thick as thieves again, but he could use an ally he fully trusted. 

Fontaine smiled. “Thanks, baby brother,” he said. 

Tyrone scowled while Fontaine stood up. “Keep your eye on that Isaac mu’fucka. He doing a whole lot to sabotage this deal. What makes this place so special?” Fontaine asked. 

“It’s in a prime location in LA. Dead center of the Hills with an incredible view. Lap of luxury. The owner is giving carte blanche to design it according to whoever gets the deal. This type of deal? King maker,” Tyrone explained. 

After so many years of living, the only thing that mattered was legacy. No one fuckin’ cared about money when you had more than enough to spend for several lifetimes. Legacy was what mattered. With no one siring natural children, name recognition was currency. 

Fontaine nodded. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground. Be ready,” he said.

Tyrone stood up. “One more thing. Stop leaving your food everywhere,” he said.

“Fuck you talkin’ ‘bout?” Fontaine asked.

“You show up and now I got cops calling me about bodies turning up, blood drained. Stop leaving your food around for the humans to find. We don’t need that scrutiny,” Tyrone said.

“That ain’t me, nigga,” Fontaine said with such vehemence, Tyrone had no choice but to believe him. 

Tyrone nodded. He’d have Slick Charles look into it then. If he was going to trust Fontaine, he had to take him at his word. He only hoped that it wouldn’t bite him in the ass. 

Fontaine left the room, leaving his door open. Tyrone looked down at the mountain of papers he had to get through. He had shell companies on top of shell companies. This business with Yo-Yo and now Fontaine. Plus, he had to keep an eye out for Isaac’s bitch ass. 

He needed a fuckin’ break. He needed you. He dialed your number and faced his window. He opened the blinds to show the busy nightlife of downtown LA. Giant neon billboards flashed with the latest bullshit to fleece the poor of the few nickels they could rub together. 

You picked up on the second ring. “This is a pleasant surprise,” you answered. Just hearing your voice calmed all his nerves. His worries melted away and he found himself smiling despite himself.

“Let me take you out,” he said.

You giggled. “You don’t even eat regular food though,” you said. 

“I like feeding you. Let me take you somewhere I can show yo pretty ass off,” he said. 

You giggled. “Everywhere would be booked,” you said. But he could hear you shuffling around. He knew your schedule pretty well by now. You worked from home today and were likely lounging around in them little ass shorts you liked. He ought to reprimand you for keeping your blinds open inside your place. But to do that, he’d have to fess up to practically stalking you. 

“Not for me,” he said.

You giggled. “Okay, where you taking me?” You asked.

“Surprise. Dress nice but not super fancy,” he said. 

You sighed prettily and he found his blood heading south, remembering how he played with your body. The way you responded to his touch and kisses. He wanted to inhale you and hold you close. He didn’t care if your blood was supposed to call to him. He wanted a taste. Yearned for it. 

“See you in an hour?” You asked.

“Less if I can help it,” he said and savored your laugh over the phone. 

***

You

You got dressed with excited shivers running down your spine. You ran through your closet trying to find a nice date night outfit. You had plenty of options, options you had bought on shopping trips with your girls even though you had no one to take you out.

Foresight planning was a gift as you had options. You held up certain outfits in the mirrors. LA was still temperate at night, though you were approaching the months where it was hot as sin in the morning and cold as a witch’s titty at night. 

You settled on a rich, purple bodysuit and sandals. You threw on a light sweater and did your makeup in the mirror while bouncing with the abject need to see this man. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this excited to see someone.

Was it simply because he was a vampire? You weren’t sure. He genuinely made you laugh and you liked talking to him. It was a different experience talking to someone so worldly. Usually the ones you found were so far up their own ass, they made your pussy drier than the Sahara. 

He told you about how things changed from time to time. He literally witnessed the rise and falls of entire kingdoms. There during the most interesting points in history. It was insane. If an historian caught hold of him, you’d never see the man again. 

You were fluffing out your hair when your doorbell rang. You practically skipped to the door and looked through the peephole. Tyrone stood there in a gorgeous midnight blue suit. He was thick in all the right places. His shirt bordered on obscene as the top two buttons were left undone. 

He rubbed a ring on his finger as he looked you up and down, taking in your outfit. “You are breathtaking,” he said. He held out his hand and you took it. He placed a chaste kiss on your hand and you wondered if he could smell how you melted on the inside.

You hadn’t even gone anywhere yet and you were ready to turn into a puddle at his feet. You smiled and ducked your head. “You clean up pretty well yourself,” you said. He opened his arms and gripped his jacket to open it more, showing off his outfit. 

“I can put a little something together,” he said. He held out his arm like an old school gentleman. He was going to kill you. You took his elbow, grabbed your clutch, and closed the door behind you. 

Tyrone took you to his car, a sleek Audi Q7 in black that seemed like it was custom built just for him. He held the door open for you and you climbed in. It smelled like it was brand new and you wouldn’t put it past him if he bought the shit earlier in the day. He closed the door softly behind you and then walked around to climb into the driver’s side. 

He slipped in and started the car. The display lit up deep orange and you squealed on the inside. This was the nicest car you’d ever been in. Would be the only nice car you ever got to ride in. 

He pulled away from the curb and kept one hand on the steering wheel. The other, he slipped into yours and brought it to his lips while he drove. “Tell me about your day,” he said. 

“I worked from home today so it was really nice to be in my own space and work at my leisure. I didn’t have to pace myself. Finished my shit by 11 and enjoyed playing hooky a little bit,” you said. 

“You have to pace yourself at work?” He asked. 

You enjoyed the city at night. The bright street lights washed over the car’s dark interior as he drove deeper into the city. You had no clue where he was taking you. You tried to guess even as you answered him.

“People at work hate to see a good worker succeed. If I do my work well, they want to dump more on me. Fuck that. I make myself look busy so they can leave me the fuck alone,” you said.

“That’s bullshit. You shouldn’t have to do all that,” he said.

“Tell me about it. My boss is cool but fuckin’ clueless. I’m not picking up the slack for slow niggas,” you said.

Tyrone laughed and you watched as his fangs flashed. You rubbed your thighs together, remembering how good it felt to have him bite into you and drink from you. At a red light, his eyes snapped towards yours.

“What you thinkin’ about over there?” He asked. His voice grew deeper, rougher. It only made your pussy throb harder. 

“You,” you said coyly.

“What about me?” He glanced at you again before moving forward on a green light. 

You were turned around now. You really had no idea where he was taking you. It was as thrilling as it was scary. You knew that he wouldn’t take you anywhere bad, but you hated not knowing. So you had control issues, sue you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you said.

“I really would,” he said.

You giggled. “Guess you’ll have to find out later,” you sang. 

Tyrone sighed deeply. “Mhm, I see I’m going to have to teach you how this gon’ work,” he said. His voice promised all kinds of filthy things and you were tempted to tell him to turn the car around and go back to your place.

You weren’t prepared for him to see your space yet. You wanted to clean up a bit, tidy up other things, and make it look like you were at least a grown adult capable of taking care of yourself. 

“Ain’t nobody scared of you,” you said.

Tyrone flashed his fangs. “You should be.” 

Tyrone pulled up to a pinkish building that looked like someone transplanted a real Italian building. There was a water fountain with statue angels in front that Tyrone drove around. He pushed on his sunglasses and then stopped the car. 

A valet strolled to the car a second later and opened the door for you. You got out and Tyrone came around the car, grabbing your hand from the valet. He handed him the keys and a rolled up bill. 

“Look out for it,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” the valet said. He was a youngish man with tanned skin and long brain hair pulled into a neat bun. Wanna-be actor. Weren’t they all? 

Tyrone walked you through the front door where you were greeted by a hostess in a subtle, professional black dress that still came across as sexy. She greeted you both, took Tyrone’s reservation, and bid you to follow.

You made sure to keep your face calm, but this restaurant was easily the nicest you’d ever been to. You weren’t a fancy person. You’d happily stroll by In and Out and sit your happy ass at home and enjoy it. But this? 

Tyrone was setting the standard for literally any other creature on the planet. No person alive could compete with the way Tyrone treated you. It was almost literally a man in the streets, freak in the sheets situation. Did you even want to entertain someone who couldn’t get a drop of the hat type of reservation? 

Inside, the colors were tastefully muted. There was enough light to see in front of you and the person next to you and still have it be intimate. Like a true night somewhere in Rome or Venice.

The hostess brought you to a sectioned off room. She held open the curtain and let you pass through. A separate dining room was back here, devoid of other people. Must be a slow night.

The hostess continued through and your mind spun with wild jokes about putting the Black folk in the back. They’d sit you next to the sink and feed you the cutoff scraps. You stifled a laugh as you continued down a short hall. She stopped near a door that had been left open. The breeze from outside caressed your face and you sighed. She bid you to go ahead and Tyrone’s hand slipped down to your hip.

He held you steady while you walked outside stepping on wide pinkish stones. There was one table set out here with two place settings, a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket, and a tall heater. There was plenty of ambient lighting so you could both see your partner and look out at the incredible view of Los Angeles.

Nothing lit up like Los Angeles when the sun finally went down and all those gold, orange, and white lights lit up the night sky like a beacon. It was the closest you felt to being in a fairytale. 

Tyrone held out your chair and you sat down. He helped you scoot in and then finally sat down. A waiter appeared with tanned skin and dark black hair. He nodded to the both of you.

“I will be your server this evening. If there’s anything you need, press this. A light will turn on and I’ll be right there. Would you like a menu?” He asked with a slight Italian accent. You wanted to laugh. They really took a theme to the very end. 

Tyrone turned towards you. “Do you want the asshole rich guy routine or the thoughtful one?” Tyrone asked.

You giggled. “The asshole one,” you said. Why not? You were feeling adventurous and dangerous. You were on a date with a vampire. 

Since this was LA, you felt like you were in a movie. That you were the femme fatale rival lover who knows Tyrone is a vampire and wants him as is. Except, in your movie, you win in the end and the bland ass protagonist settles for the equally bland best friend and have lovely flour babies. 

Tyrone grinned without showing his fangs. “No menu,” he said. He told the waiter that you wanted your favorite pasta, with salad. He guessed the salad dressing correctly. You raised your eyebrows. You weren’t convinced he couldn’t read minds. 

He didn’t order anything for himself but the waiter didn’t show any surprise. He only nodded and left the balcony to you and Tyrone. 

You looked out over LA and took a deep sigh. “This is insane, Tyrone,” you said. 

He shrugged. “It was too late to buy out the whole restaurant, so I hope buying out the private area will have to work,” he said. 

You gaped at him while he removed his sunglasses. It was harder to see color with this low light, but there was nothing human about Tyrone. He didn’t seem to mind, even as the waiter came back and poured the glass of wine that was chilling in the bucket. 

The waiter left and Tyrone swirled his glass lightly. The red wine smelled heavenly, but that didn’t mean it would be good. 

“You did what?” You asked.

Tyrone grinned and took a sip of the wine. He licked his lips and you fought a wave of arousal. Tyrone’s eyes only flickered towards you.

“It’s not fair that you can guess my moods like this,” you said. 

“Think of all the possibilities,” he said. He tilted his head. “What if we’re playing hide and seek?” 

You clenched your thighs. That…sounded like an excellent idea. “Or when we’re in public and you can’t wait to get home,” you said. 

“Tease. Who says I would wait ‘till we got home? I’d fuck you any place and anywhere. I’d fuck you here too and watch you cum beneath these stars,” he said.

You were a puddle. He could probably hear your heartbeat increase too. You took a deep breath as that particular image filled your mind. That was a little too public for your tastes. But the idea had merit. 

Tyrone grinned. “We ain’t gon’ get through this dinner,” he said. 

You fanned yourself and leaned towards the soft breeze rather than the heat lamp. But the wind was too weak, cut through by all of the LA hills. 

“We are. You didn’t spend this money for nothing,” you said.

“I spend money on nothing on the regular. At least with this, I get a beautiful view,” he said, looking at you. You tilted your head at him. He was so damn fine. That hint of a beard, sexy big lips, that wide grin. And those hands…

“No, we’re adults. We can behave ourselves through dinner,” you said.

Tyrone nodded and grinned. Topics moved on to safer and boring subjects. You discussed your respective families. That you had ties to the Caribbean but were a few places removed. Your grandmother had stories of island life from being a little girl, but her family was here in LA. 

He told you about some of the lifetimes he’d lived. Some of the famous celebrities through history he’d met, plus some that should have been famous. How he helped steer the course of history in some cases.

Your food came in the middle of it, but your attention was on Tyrone and his stories. He didn’t break stride as the waiter placed your food down. The waiter moved away without another sound.

He hung around many a president trying to get them to abolish slavery or any other atrocity they cooked up. Sometimes they were ignored, sometimes they had to roll a mind, sometimes they had to kill. 

“Roll a mind?” You asked.

“We can’t read minds but we are skilled hypnotists. We can make you see or feel all kinds of things,” he said.

“What sorts of things? Have you ever rolled my mind?” You asked. 

Tyrone looked you in the eye. “No. I wouldn’t do that without permission,” he said.

“I’m curious about it,” you said. You wondered if he could convince you to do things. Bad things or good things. 

Your mind stirred with all kinds of scenarios where you were a vampire. You weren’t entirely squeamish about blood. You’d miss food terribly. But you’d be able to move fast, super strong, more energy. The idea appealed to you strongly. You eyed Tyrone. If you asked, would he turn you into a vampire? 

“With your permission, I’d do it,” he said.

“You have my permission,” you said instantly. Tyrone grinned, showing that bit of fang. You couldn’t forget that he was a vampire. In the event that you did, you weren’t stupid. You knew that he was a dangerous creature capable of snapping your neck. But you had been waiting your whole life for something cool to happen. Now that it finally did, you weren’t going to ruin it with logic. You wanted to see all of it.

Tyrone nodded and you expected him to do it then and there. When nothing happened, you smiled. “Did you do it already and I don’t know?” You asked.

You polished off your meal, not able to eat another bite. You sipped on wine. 

“That’s later. When I got you spread open before me. Showing that pretty pussy. When you’re so blind with need, you’ll agree to anything. Completely at my mercy,” he said. He pitched his voice lower and you watched his lips. 

Your pussy fluttered and he grinned. “You like the dark side of me.” 

He didn’t say it as a question but you answered anyway. “I want to know all of it.”

“Even how many I’ve killed?” He asked.

“Have you kept count?” You asked.

He leaned back in his seat and sipped the wine. You mirrored him, finally trying it. Shit. It was delicious! The perfect mix of sweet and dry, exploding with flavor on your tongue. 

“Yes. Everyone. That doesn’t bother you?” 

You shrugged. “Would I get mad at nature running its course?” You shrugged. You weren’t going to compare him to a dog out loud. But would you get mad at a dog running? A cheetah with spots? 

“You think vampires are natural? Not magic?” He asked.

“Isn’t magic natural too? Would it exist if it weren’t?” You asked. You smiled. Tyrone smiled. 

“Okay, enough with the philosophy,” he said.

“I don’t know. I’ve always been weird about death and killing. I can remove myself from the bigness of it, if that makes sense? Otherwise it’s all I think about,” You said. 

“Have you always been into vampires? Or is it werewolves and witches too?” He asked.

“Are they real too? How can you tell?” You asked.

Tyrone looked at you as if he were asking himself questions and answering them himself. It played out in his eyes. Each answer, he widened his eyes a little wider. 

“Do you have magic in your family?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Not really? My grandma believed in a lot of shit,” you said.

He looked at the cityscape and you relaxed into an enjoyable silence. You liked when people could sit in silence sometimes. There was no need to force conversation during a moment of quiet. 

“Let’s get out of here. I want to try something,” he said. 

He stood up and grabbed your hand, pulling you to stand. He led you to the door and out of the restaurant. With every step out of there, his hand descended lower and low on your ass. 

He practically had a handful as you went out the front door. He handed a valet his ticket and his car was pulled around. The valet opened your door and handed Tyrone the keys. Tyrone shook his hand, closed your door, and then climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Want to experience what vampires can really do?” He asked. 

“Yes,” you said.

He leaned in conspiratorially and licked his lips. He smelled faintly like the wine you had and you leaned in closer, leaning in for a kiss. He grinned. 

“I want you to be sure,” he said.

“I’m sure,” you said. He finally kissed you. You smiled. 

So far, he hadn’t shown you anything to truly frighten you. You were sure in your knowledge that he could kill you at any second. And so far, his intentions were only to spend time with you and fuck you silly. And you really did love hopping on his dick.

Tyrone grinned. He put the car in drive but kept his eyes trained on you. He maneuvered the roundabout with ease and went out into traffic with his eyes on you. 

You weren’t that cool. You had to glance in front of you to make sure that he wasn’t going to hit anything. He hit untold speeds, flying down the street. Your hand gripped the seat belt around your chest. 

Tyrone stopped at a red light and smirked at you. “Want me to stop?” He asked.

“Don’t you dare!” You said and giggled. You heard your heart roaring in your ears. Your hands shook with adrenaline. 

Tyrone licked his lips and looked down at your body suit. He reached out with his right hand to curl against your left titty. You always felt that it was your bigger side. He lightly rubbed his thumb over your nipple.

You bit your lip. You didn’t wear a bra underneath so it took no time for your nipple to pebble. He pinched your nipple and you gasped with pleasure. 

The light turned green, the color spreading over Tyrone’s face briefly. He didn’t remove his hand from your titty. He was taking sick pleasure in eliciting sounds from you. He sped up, going impossibly fast. 

You had no choice but to focus on his hand massaging your breast. It felt so fucking good. You didn’t really think about your boobs while having sex. The guys you dealt with weren’t sure either. 

Tyrone seemed to delight in every inch of you. It was so liberating to have more than a few curves and have a man appreciate it. Genuinely appreciate it. There was no guessing his true colors. He just wanted his hands all over you. 

He flicked your nipple and you finally broke into tiny, shudders that wracked your body. He breathed deeply and you wondered if he smelled how turned you were. If you were soaking through your panties. 

He watched your reactions with a type of focus usually reserved to solving a puzzle. There were no words. Just your eyes on each other while he was driving a car through LA. You were breathless with exhilaration. 

You knew that you finally arrived at your destination when Tyrone slowed down into a series of turns. It was an observatory but didn’t seem like Griffith. The road turned a bit rocky as he pulled up towards a cliff edge. The parking lot was empty and there were a few well placed lamps that briefly reached his car.

The jet black interior seemed to melt into the night. There was only the orange-ish light from his car’s dash. He turned the car off and the orange light faded away. The car was charged with the electricity flowing between you. 

You couldn’t see him. He could likely see you though. He’d told you about how vampire night vision was basically like seeing in the daylight, except with a faint tint. You looked out of the car’s windshield. You were higher in the hills looking at LA and you sighed. It was so breathtaking. 

“Remember when I said I wanted to fuck you beneath some stars?” His soft voice seemed loud in the car. 

“Here?” You asked. “What about your car?” You asked.

Tyrone chuckled darkly. “I can get anything cleaned. If not, then replaced. If not, then I’ll buy a fleet of these and let you make a mess over all of them,” he said. 

Your pussy clenched hearing that. You were not into other people’s money. You were independent as fuck. However, hearing that he would do such a thing was turning you on. A fleet of cars just for you to cum all over? Where did you sign up for that job?

Tyrone got out of the car. He slammed his car and opened yours a second later. Here, he didn’t have to hide. He could show off his vampire powers, moving at impossible speeds. He pulled you to the edge of the seat. You thought it might be too high but you were angled perfectly. 

He faced you. There was a hint of light on his face so you could see that his focused face returned. He pushed your sweater off of your shoulders. You tossed it onto his side of the car. 

He grabbed your ankle, held it over his thigh, and started to unsnap your sandals. He still held that one while he picked up the other foot to do the same thing. He tossed those onto the floor. 

He grabbed the top of your jumpsuit and rolled it down. Your titties popped out and he licked his lips. The downside to wearing the jumpsuit was that he’d have to peel off the whole thing to get to your panties. Those, he rolled down your legs as well. You were completely exposed to him and the elements while he still wore his dark suit. 

There was something so profoundly naughty about that. Tyrone moved forward until you were laying on your back. There was only so far you could go comfortably and not have to rest on the hard armrest. You held yourself up by your elbows while Tyrone spread you further.

He dropped to his knees, kneeling in that expensive suit, so he could bring his mouth to your pussy. He moved your legs to his shoulders. His tongue flattened against your pussy and you moaned. Your back moved off of the seat as he licked and made out with your pussy.

You didn’t stifle your moans. You let him hear how much he was pleasuring you. You let the colder air carry your moans down the mountain where no one would hear. “Oh, fuck!” You moaned. 

He groaned while he ate you out. The sound sent shivers down your spine. He flicked his tongue along your seam and you shivered fiercely. 

You couldn’t hold this one off. You came with a high-pitched wail. Tyrone kept flicking that sensitive clit until he suddenly withdrew. His fangs sank into your thigh and you screamed with another orgasm. Your thighs slapped against his ears and he continued to suck you through it. 

You turned a pinch lightheaded when he stopped. He licked your thigh and you felt your thigh burn as magic knitted your skin together to stop bleeding. The scar would remain so that he would always know where to bite you. 

Your teeth chattered as he stood up, kissing your thigh and then your belly. You weren’t cold from the air. You were freezing from him snatching your body warmth with those orgasms. 

He kissed up your chest, stopping at the top to spend time licking and sucking on your nipples. His fingers played with the outer edge of your pussy before pushing thick fingers inside you.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. “Tyrone, I-” 

“Yes, you can. You can give me a few more,” he said.

“A few?” You asked.

“Mhm, a few more. You feelin’ how you grippin’ my fingers?” He asked. 

“Yes,” you moaned. Heat suffused you. Your pussy throbbed. After cumming, you still gyrated on his fingers while he played with your insides. He began to curl his fingers in a come hither motion, lightly stroking you and you were another incoherent mess under his fingers. 

“Don’t that feel much better? Hm, I can’t wait to feel that on this dick,” he said. He kissed up your chest, sinking his teeth into it. He pulled blood out of you, sending sparks down to your pussy. 

You gripped his fingers with renewed fervor and he moaned. He pulled his face away slowly, gathering breath as if he had run a mile. He licked away the bite, letting this one completely heal. 

“Been missin’ the way this pussy feels,” he said. He pulled you closer, letting half your ass lean out of the car. 

He gripped his dick and ran it through your dripping folds. He bit your lip and moaned as he ran across your sensitive dick.

“Pay attention,” he said. His eyes found yours in the dark. His eyes seemed to glow with an inner light. It began to drown out everything around you. You felt like you were falling forward even though you knew you were laying down. 

“Pay attention,” he said. His voice echoed in your head. You were no longer falling, you were being pulled into the depths of a red ocean. You couldn’t see to the bottom. You were suddenly in it, splashing about, screaming. Screaming for what? 

“Pay attention.” You were pulled under the water. The acrid scent of copper filled your nose and you opened your mouth to scream some more. On the outside, you were quiet and you felt calmer than you ever had. 

It was like all of your worries and doubts vanished, leaving your mind pleasantly empty. “Look at the stars,” Tyrone said.

You looked towards the sky and gasped. Each ball of light seemed to be on fire. And closer. Lights dancing in your eyes as if you had taken a swim on the moon with stars as your backdrop. Your vision turned watery as the majesty of it was too much to bear. 

Tyrone’s dick circled your clit and you moaned painfully. You were ten times more sensitive. He skittered along nerve endings you didn’t know existed around your pussy. You felt wetter and needier, burning up with the desire to cum. It was like he was a gift from the heavens. A personal vessel for handing out pleasure like candy. 

He moved into your view. You could look away from the stars, it wasn’t like his control was absolute. But the stars looked so incredible. You felt like your vision increased. That the stars were close enough to touch. 

Tyrone pushed inside and you leaned up, pushing at his clothed chest. He was so damn big. Even with as wet as you were, he still stuffed you completely. You whimpered while he moved his hips, pumping into you.

This was the most intense sex you’d ever had. You’ve had sex while high and while drunk, sometimes crossfaded, and all of it paled in comparison to how sensitive you were right now. It was like you took an aphrodisiac and slowly became a vessel to receive pleasure. 

He moved more easily inside of you, pumping you while you looked at the stars. You came once more, huffing and hollering until you were screaming out his name. On the heels of that one, you were screaming from another one. 

Each time, the stars seemed to flare to life, growing brighter as your orgasm built inside of you. As the pressure built in your lower belly. As your clit throbbed painfully until you couldn’t take it anymore and were bursting with the power of a million suns. 

Your breath was robbed from you as Tyrone leaned down and kissed you. Your lips were sensitive as well. You felt his warm lips press against yours. His hot tongue seeking and playing with yours.

He hiked your legs higher on his hips and pounded into you relentlessly. You gripped the seat cushion for purchase but it was useless. You managed to groan pathetically when he pulled out. When he slammed back in without mercy, you couldn’t breathe. 

He used his hands to push your legs backwards, until you were neatly folded. Your pussy gripped him tighter at this angle and he groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder. The wet slap of his dick against you turned you on more.

Everything turned you on. The focused look on his face. Slightly smug like he knew he was killing your shit. The way his fingers gripped your thighs to the point of bruising while he rammed inside of you. You gripped onto his shoulders. Maybe if he held onto you, you wouldn’t get sucked into a black hole of ecstasy. 

“Fuck, gripping’ the fuck outta me,” he moaned. The tension you sensed earlier seemed to leak out of him the longer he pounded inside of you. His face grew slack as he groaned low in his throat. 

He bared his fangs and you prepared for him to bite you again. But he was content to throw his head back, push forward, and groan out his climax. The feeling of his dick twitching caused you to moan and join him. 

You cried, tears running down your cheeks, as your juices mixed with his. You contracted on his dick and he groaned. Your hand dug into his chest, pushing at him, but he only leaned into it. Letting your hand slap at his chest while the pleasure was too much. Entirely too much. 

“Squeeze that shit. Let me feel it. Let me feel how I make this pussy feel,” he moaned in your ear. 

He nibbled on your ear while your thighs shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You couldn’t bear to let another one take you over. You were exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

He moved his lips to kiss you. It was sloppy and all over the place but it was the best damn kiss of your life. Your toes curled from that alone. It was a mix of hot and sweet. Where he pressed into you as if he wanted to disappear inside of you. But his lips were soft and his tongue playing with yours. 

You moaned into the kiss, contracting around him. He echoed your groan and pumped a few more times. He leaned back and spread your legs, watching himself leak out of you. You moaned as you felt his cum sliding out, sliding down your ass, dripping out of you. He licked his lips as if he wanted to soak it all up. 

Instead, he pulled you into a sitting position. “Thank you,” he murmured against your lips. He gave you lazy kisses while you calmed down. 

“I didn’t do anything,” you said. 

“Gettin’ in this pussy is the only solution I need from now on,” he said. He dropped more kisses while running his hands all over your overheated skin. Everywhere he touched, it was like a signal went off in your brain to make you moan. Your nerves were still on fire. 

You ran your hands all over his smooth figure. You couldn’t get to his skin, but it was enough to feel the promise of his muscles. You wanted more. You wanted to feel him naked on top of you. You wanted to ride him. 

He grinned. “I have to keep remembering you’re human. I don’t want to break my new favorite toy,” he said. He kissed your cheek and you giggled.

“You’re so corny,” you said. 

“Want me to stop rolling you?” He asked.

“Not a fucking chance,” you said. “Take me to your place,” you said. You bit your lips seductively, looking from him to where he was standing in front of you. His dick bobbed as you stared at it.

He chuckled. “As the Lady wishes,” he said.

He helped you get dressed. You opted to leave the sandals off. He tucked you neatly into the car, closing the car door. A second later, he climbed into his side. There was no way to clean up from an impromptu session so you had to sit in the evidence of your neediness while Tyrone sped through LA.

The lights whizzed by and you sat and enjoyed it without overthinking. You felt free. Wild, untamed, exotic. You didn’t want this night to end.

Masterlist | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

[megamindsecretlair]

Aht aht aht. The vampire Tyrone said that the things he was gonna do to the reader was gonna make the devil jealous. I need details please, if you feel me!!!

A/N: Don't be quoting my fics back at me LOL. I'm gon take this lightly, but let's remember that I am not a smut machine. LOL

A Seduction at Midnight Chapter 3

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. Use of n-word. Reader is tied up with cuffs, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), PIV (unprotected), cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. One mention of spanking. Possession kink, pet names. Mentions of stalking and manipulation. blood, over stimulation, Mean-ish reader.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. After inviting you to a exclusive party at his place, Tyrone promises a night of pure carnal delights.

Word Count: 4,172k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Okay, let's see what these crazy kids get up to! I guess, this is kind of OC? Is it OC if I invented a tiny backstory? I'm still getting the hang of fic writing. Since this taglist is getting so big, please give me a headcount of who still wants to be tagged for Vamp Tyrone or who only wants normal Tyrone. I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile

Mistakes were made. Your wrists were tied and suspended above you on a chain you did not see when you first walked in. You knelt on the bed in a growing puddle of your own arousal, knees spread wide. You felt how wet you were. It leaked out of you, trailing down your thighs. 

You shook nearly in time with the grandfather clock. Each new chime was another hour passed while Tyrone played with you. Perhaps, you didn’t really know what you were signing up for. 

Tears sprung from your eyes. You sniffled. It was too much sensation, too many nerves, too much pleasure. He had not stopped after your previous orgasms for the audience. No, he kept going. Pushing you past your limits. 

“Still with me?” You turned to the sound of his voice but couldn’t see him. He had taken off your mask ages ago and replaced it with a blindfold. It was snug against your face, damp with your tears. 

“Yes,” you whispered. 

Tyrone trailed a feather against your skin and it was like he set you on fire. You hissed and jerked away from him, crying. The chain clinked loudly in your ear.

“Aw, don’t try to get away,” Tyrone said and chuckled. He leaned in and kissed your cheek. Even that shit was sensitive. 

“P-please,” you whispered. 

“Please what? Say it where I can hear you,” he said. 

You leaned your head against your raised arms. They were starting to hurt, but the last time you asked him to lower the chain, he fingered you until you came two more times. You couldn’t possibly have another one to give. 

The feather tickled your neck and you twisted, falling forward a bit. Tyrone caught you and righted you. But his grip was too much. You cried out and Tyrone shushed you.

“Shh, shh, where we at baby?” He asked.

“Y-yellow,” you said, cursing yourself. You should just end this. But you did not want this evening to end. For once, your brain shut off and Tyrone handled everything. The sounds he elicited from you were sinful. You didn’t know you could beg and scream and cry as often as you did tonight.

“Are you sure? You’re so messy,” he said slowly. His fingers grazed your pussy and you desperately clenched, needing to be filled. You moaned moving your hips forward, yearning for him to end your torment. 

“Hmm, you’re so wet,” he purred in your ear. “I bet I would have to fight to stay inside, huh?” Tyrone licked your neck. 

“No, no,” you said. If he’d just give you the dick, you would lock your legs around him and never let go. You licked your lips, still feeling a bit rubbed raw after the last time you sucked his dick. 

Tyrone kissed down your neck, around your shoulders, towards your chest. He palmed your breasts, rubbing them slowly and running his thumbs across your nipples. Your whole body shivered. 

You still felt his hands everywhere. Your body tingled from everything he had done to you tonight. Like phantom hands still massaged you, molded you, broke you in half like a pretzel. 

His mouth replaced his thumb. He latched his mouth to your left nipple, swirling his tongue around it. 

“S-shit,” you sniffled. You didn’t have enough air in your lungs to yell. He dipped his fingers into your pussy, pumping two long fingers in and out of you. 

“Got another one for me?” He asked. His breath fanned across your wet nipple and you moaned. 

“N-no,” you moaned. Hell, this couldn’t be real. You didn’t want to wake up if it wasn’t. He was ruining you for any other man. What human could compete with this level of stamina? Tyrone had sounded calm and collected all night. Except for when he was fucking your mouth. He never sounded more gorgeous than the few little “fucks” that kept escaping him. 

He flicked his tongue lazily against your nipple. Once he got it into a tight nub, he moved on to the right nipple. He paid just as much attention to that one as he still pumped his fingers.

It was as if with every plunge, he was calling your orgasm to the surface. Dragging it from the depths of hell itself to make you cum. “Oh fuck, p-please,” you cried. 

“C’mon and give it to me. I knew you had another one for me. With yo sexy ass. You’ve done so good for me tonight,” he whispered against your nipple. You cried out, nothing but the wisps of air you managed to keep escaping you. 

Pleasure wrapped around you and held on for dear life. You shook and jerked. Feeling squeezed tight and not tight enough. Tiny earthquakes were set off inside of you, each with its own aftershock of pleasure. Tears trailed down your cheeks.

Tyrone lifted his head from your chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He took his fingers out of your pussy and spread your arousal around your lips. He shoved his fingers in, making you taste yourself again. He licked your tears away, from both cheeks, humming in pleasure.

“You’re gonna have to tell me when to stop. I can’t get enough of you,” he said. He kissed your cheek. He held his lips there in a sustained kiss and breathed you in. You knew he didn’t have to breathe, not really. He did it anyway, committing you to memory. The thought made your pussy throb. 

“I n-need…” You tried, but you couldn’t voice your thoughts. It had been too long since he entered you. Since he gave you what you wanted. What you truly wanted. You were trying to hold out but he was being incredibly stubborn about it.

Couldn’t vamps read minds? Weren’t they supposed to get super special powers to roll your mind, make you do things, or work some type of magic? You slunk down, wrenching your shoulders back too far, but you were close to passing out. 

“Tell me what you need,” Tyrone said. His voice was clear, deep, and intentionally seductive. He knew fuck well what he was doing. You supposed after centuries of sex, he should know what he was doing. But you were a mere mortal. He had to have some kind of mercy. 

“Please, fuck me,” you begged. 

Tyrone chuckled and cupped your face. He kissed you. His tongue rolled against yours and you moaned, sitting up straighter. Your thighs were starting to burn from this position. The metal clanked overhead. The grandfather clock tick, tick, ticked. You’d never be able to look at another clock the same way again. The mu’fucka ruined clocks for you too.

He slotted his lips against yours, languid as a fat cat on a summer’s day. He explored your mouth as if he were kissing you for the first time. His soft lips were their own sweet torture. 

“Hm, I need to taste you first. You made such a mess, I need to clean it up,” he said. You cried as he moved into position on his back. He pulled you closer, making you crawl on your knees. The chain rattled as it moved on the track, allowing you to push forward and sit on his face. You tried to stay on your knees, but he grabbed you by the thighs and pulled until you were seated.

He reminded you that he didn’t need to breathe as his tongue darted out to lick your pussy. You reared up but he pulled you back down. Your ass pushed against the heels of your feet. 

His grip turned bruising as he crushed you to his face and ate you out again, moaning at the taste of you. 

“So good,” you think he said. He sounded muffled. You bit your lip as your hips started to move of their own accord. Grinding down on his face. Oh, oh, yeah that felt so good. You moved your hips faster.

Tyrone stuck his tongue out and let you fuck yourself on it. You moaned as you rode him, taking your pleasure from him as if he were nothing but a toy. Nothing but a vibrator you were pleasuring yourself with. Your fingers tangled with the chains as you gripped them and rode his face harder. Fresh arousal leaked out of you, surely drowning him. 

“Right there, right there, rightthererightthererightthere,” you cried, your voice tinny.

You were caught between wanting to go faster and pushing him off altogether. You could not survive another orgasm. And yet, you were grinding on him anyway. Your pussy clenched and throbbed as your orgasm built, tightening your belly. At its peak, it erupted. 

You cried out as it swept through you. A volcano of pleasure that kept going and going, taking you to another plane of existence. 

You slumped against his face as he licked up everything you gushed out. You spasmed. The smell of sex was so thick in the air, you could probably cut it with a knife. “Such a good little girl,” he said against your thighs. He moved you easily as if you were as light as the feather he used earlier.

The praise made your spirit soar, even as your body was too tired. He got to his knees behind you. A moment later, the chains were starting to lower and you whimpered in relief. He kissed your neck and back and started to massage your shoulders. He whispered nasty things in your ear as his hands rubbed the dull, burning ache. 

“Better?” He asked.

“Unhuh,” you sighed.

“Where we at baby?” He asked.

You thought about it. If he teased you one more time, that was it, you were throwing in the towel. Stubbornly, you rallied the last remaining strength you had. “Yellow,” you said through clenched teeth. 

“Stubborn little thing, ain’t you?” He asked. 

“I was promised a night I’ll remember,” you said.

He chuckled and licked the shell of your ear. “Not enough for you? Complaining about my performance?” He asked.

“If I need to find someone else, let me know,” you said.

The sharp smack to your ass was unexpected and you gasped from the sheer force. The sting built in intensity until your ass was on fire.

“You can joke about a lot of things. That shit ain’t one of ‘em. Understand?” He asked.

Your head bobbled. 

“Use your words,” he said.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you squeaked. 

Since your arms were now lowered, he pushed you forward. You leaned on your elbows and brought your ass up. You weren’t moving fast enough. Tyrone grabbed your hips and pulled you backwards. 

He slammed inside of you. You were so wet that he slid in easily. You cried out as he fucked you with something to prove. Okay, you hit a fucking nerve. 

Your wrists were still tied. You held them in front of you, to keep the chain from knocking into your face. He fucked into you with reckless abandon. His fingers dug into your hips, slamming you back on his dick. 

You moaned and cried and whimpered as he finally gave you what you wanted. He filled you up. His thick dick was perfect, digging into your guts exactly in the way you needed. 

“No one else gets to touch you,” he growled. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said.

“No one,” he said. “No one.” It became a chant. Every thrust pushed you forward. Your ass slapped against his thighs. His balls tapped your clit. 

Your nails scraped against the bedsheet as he rutted inside of you. He was animalistic. Grunting and groaning. In between chanting, he’d pepper in curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, squeeze that shit,” he moaned.

You pushed back against him, and he increased his thrusts. His moans turned you on. Hearing that deep voice moaning activated a different side of to you. You threw it back on him. He growled as he slammed back. Gasps and yips escaped you. You couldn’t take a full breath. He fucked the orgasm out of you, wringing a loud, keening yowl from you. 

Your body jerked and twisted as your orgasm steamrolled you. Reality shifted and changed. You peeked into the fifth dimension, feeling at once above your body and in it. You pictured how you looked. Suppliant, on your knees, getting dicked down in the most primal way possible. 

“Oh fuck, baby. So good,” you moaned. 

As you floated back down, Tyrone roared and released a fat load inside of you. The hot spurts filled you up. He shuddered as he pushed forward to the hilt, moaning deep and low in his throat. 

“So beautiful. So good,” he whispered. He leaned forward and kissed the base of your spine. You tensed, ready for his fangs to sink in. He rubbed one side against your ass and chuckled. “No more bites tonight, love,” he promised. 

You pouted and whined. He placed another kiss there and slipped out of you when he softened. He untied the blindfold. 

The sudden light seared your eyes and you blinked through new tears. You looked towards him, eyes blurry, and found him looking down at you with so much emotion. Such pride. Such admiration. You smiled lazily at him and yawned. You still shook from little tremors after that last orgasm. 

He took the cuffs off of you, rubbing and massaging circulation back into your wrists. Warmth spread through your body as you stretched out, laying down fully on the bed. Sleep tugged heavily at you. You wanted to stay up and talk to him, but he kissed your forehead and told you to sleep. So sleep you did.

Tyrone

You were going to be the true death of him. You looked ruined. Your perfect body was curled on the bed, ass in the air and scrumptious enough to bite into. He almost did earlier, but it was your first time giving blood. He didn’t want to suck you dry.

Fuck, his dick twitched thinking of how good you tasted, in all aspects. Your blood was ambrosia. Straight from the heavens itself. It took every, single ounce of willpower to keep from killing you. And you poor thing. You had no clue. 

He should feel horrible about it. You were so full of life. Interesting and unique. He loved listening to you talk and learning how your mind worked. He would hate it if you were snuffed from this life.

But you had no clue how fucking delicious your blood was. And then when he tasted that sweet honey between your thighs, it was enough to drive him insane with lust. Tyrone could not remember the last person who drove him so crazy. He’d had his share of lovers over the centuries. When his loneliness was so loud, he’d do anything to steal the warmth from his partner. He’d agree to anything, kill anybody, if it meant that someone would wrap their hands around him in love rather than fear.

He looked at you, staring at your rolls and curves. He could keep going. You made him want to keep going. He wanted to mesh your bodies together and never leave your embrace. He wanted to twist you any which way he could. 

He needed a walk. Usually, he would kick out whoever he got done fucking. But you were different. He wanted to mold his body to yours and snuggle in close. But if he snuggled up with you right now, you wouldn’t ever be free to walk this earth again. This…possessiveness was starting to worry him. Slick Charles said as much as Tyrone spent nearly every night watching you in your house. 

He left the room, towards the en suite bathroom and warmed up a washcloth for you. He cleaned you up, gentle, but you were deeply asleep. He heard the thump of your heart as you slept. You made little whimpering noises.

He was jealous of your dreams. For a while, you were lost to him. He wanted more of it. More of you. You were so cute and trusting, sleeping next to a monster. So, he threw on his briefs and left the room altogether. He needed to be away, where your scent wasn’t wreaking havoc on his senses. 

Outside the room, the carnal sounds of fucking slammed into him. The smell of sex was potent. He walked down the hall where some people were fucking against the wall. He passed by people in various states of dress, masks on, dicks and pussies out. Some women were getting fucked, some men were getting pegged.

When he was younger, all of this still would’ve excited him. He still enjoyed watching sex, but his dick only stirred for you. He gritted his teeth as he passed through to one of the playrooms.

Four people were intertwined in a complicated dance on the large bed. Tyrone stopped for a moment, watching the foursome as everyone was getting off on someone else. Sex was fascinating to him. The way people contorted themselves into shapes just to get off. To reach that ultimate goal. Tyrone watched their faces. He watched how even though they selfishly sought their own pleasure, they were just as focused on their partner. On giving and taking. 

Tyrone moved on, passing by the playrooms and ensuring that everyone minded the rules. At the end of the hall, a lone figure leaned against the wall. The figure was fully dressed in slacks and a shirt one size too big. 

“Who are you?” Tyrone asked. He stopped walking forward. The figure was half in shadow. The figure turned his head, head dipping into one of the hall lights.

“Don’t you recognize your big brother?” 

Tyrone sighed and rubbed his head. “The fuck are you doing here, Fontaine?” 

Fontaine chuckled, his gold grills glinting in the light. Moans crescendoed all around but Tyrone tuned it out. Like turning down the sound on a stereo, the moans faded to the background. 

Rage replaced his earlier calm at seeing Fontaine. Smug mu’fucka. Fontaine removed himself from the wall, stalking towards Tyrone. He put his hands in his pockets and looked Tyrone up and down.

“Shit, Tyrone. You finally fuck that stick out ya ass?” Fontaine chuckled. “Who is she? She still around?” Fontaine looked behind Tyrone as if the person would be coming up behind them. Tyrone clenched his fists but kept a mask of amused indifference. 

“What are you doing here, ‘Taine?” 

Fontaine’s smile slipped. He shrugged. “Can’t just be because I miss you?” 

Tyrone reared back as if Fontaine had slapped him. It was uncanny, looking into the eyes of someone that fuckin’ looked like you. There was a disconnect between the mirror and this mirror-version of Tyrone. It was him but it wasn’t him. 

“Fuck no. What do you want?” On the inside, Tyrone was worried. He still didn’t know what you were or why your blood smelled so divine. It was a big risk bringing you here tonight, knowing that your blood might draw the others. But nothing happened when that first drop touched air…still, he wasn’t going to gamble that Fontaine’s keen sense of smell would find you. 

Tyrone barely held it together around you. Fontaine was a ripper, who enjoyed his food in all manners of ways. It would be nothing to snap your neck and drain you dry. 

Fontaine laughed and nodded. “I got some business here,” he said. 

“What business?” Tyrone asked.

“Mines, nigga,” Fontaine said. He laughed as he pushed past Tyrone, looking in and out of the playrooms. He stopped at one door and leaned on it, watching the couple as the man was getting spanked. 

“Father banished you–” 

“Father’s the one that called me back here,” Fontaine interrupted. He turned towards Tyrone and lifted an eyebrow. “Old man didn’t tell you?” 

“Nigga don’t say shit but bark mu’fuckin’ orders.” Tyrone walked away from the playrooms. He went upstairs, heading towards his office. Here, the place felt slightly more like him. This wasn’t his main residence. He didn’t want to sleep in the same house that his people did depraved things. 

Fontaine’s steps were quiet, but with his hearing, he knew Fontaine trailed behind him. The halls were painted light gray, soft wood underneath, and random sculptures and pieces of art along the end tables or on the walls. Paintings of himself were spread along the walls. He hated the idea. But Slick Charles told him that he needed to add some showmanship for the parties. Whatever.

He turned on the light to his office and walked inside. Fontaine slipped in behind him and closed the door. Tyrone flopped into his chair and rolled his neck. He just wanted to spend the night in between your legs. He knew the night was going too perfect. 

His office was like his others, painted in his favorite color, gray, with complimentary furniture. He had a few personal items there like his watch or keys, or sunglasses. Fontaine flopped into the chair opposite the large desk. He sneered at the decorative plants and art. 

“Corny ass mu’fucka,” Fontaine whispered.

“Why are you really here?” 

Fontaine shrugged. “Pops gettin’ paranoid or some shit. Or he want something. I’ve been getting word that he’s been lookin’ into my business overseas. I’m just here to see why he broke the agreement,” Fontaine explained. 

“Lookin’ into it how?” Tyrone asked.

Fontaine shrugged again. His gaze moved around the room. Tyrone watched him, looking at all the ways he changed in the hundred or so years since he last saw him. 

Fontaine had a scruffy beard now, with kinked hair sticking up every which way. The grill was obviously new. The canines were elongated, perfectly hiding his real fangs. It was clever. He could move around more freely, not afraid to laugh or speak. 

“Ion know yet. All I know is that he broke his side, so the terms is null. I’m taking myself off punishment, baby brother,” he said.

Tyrone chuckled. “That’s not the way that shit work,” he said. 

“Does now. Look. I came here as a muthafuckin’ courtesy. No disrespect shit. I’m not going to make noise. I just want to see what Pops knows and then I’ll be gone,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone looked at him over the desk. There was so much history there. History of running around together, chasing girls in skirts, and fuckin’ them ‘till the morning came. Of all the arguments and yelling at each other. Fontaine moving to Europe was the best decision ever. They needed that continent in between them. 

“How long?” 

“Ion know,” Fontaine said.

“Not good enough,” Tyrone said.

“Make it good enough.”

Tyrone sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Dammit, ‘Taine. Don’t start that shit,” he said. 

Fontaine suddenly sniffed and Tyrone whipped his head towards him. Fontaine’s head was tilted chasing the scent. Could he smell you on Tyrone? 

“How long do you need?” Tyrone asked, trying to distract Fontaine. But Fontaine only took another deep breath.

“Damn, that almost smells like…Versailles,” he said. 

The name triggered a distant memory, of remembering when Tyrone and Fontaine had walked the halls of the famous palace, had walked by a proper lady, and she had smelled so good, it made Tyrone and Fontaine whirl around. 

Fontaine chuckled. “Must be all this pussy in the air. Anyway, I’m fo’ real. I just want to know how much he knows. I’ll be gone before you know it.” 

Tyrone nodded. “Fine. Don’t start anything while you here. Get in, get out,” Tyrone said.

Fontaine smirked and shook his head. “Shit, baby brother. You really got something here,” Fontaine said.

“You don’t have to keep up the good older brother routine. I already said you could stay,” Tyrone said. 

Fontaine laughed. “Man, whoever you fucked, go fuck ‘em again. Loosen up. All that frowning gon’ make you old,” Fontaine chuckled on his way out of the office. 

Tyrone watched him go. He strained his hearing for Fontaine’s soft steps and followed the sound of his shoes out of the house. He hadn’t smelled you. Good. Tyrone left his office and headed back to you. 

He couldn’t risk Fontaine knowing about you. He didn’t know what his brother would do around you. Especially if he was thinking of Versailles. Whatever that was supposed to mean. The centuries tended to blur after being alive so long. It was just fleeting from one activity to the next. 

He’d have to look into it later. For now, he wanted to forget that Fontaine was here. He wanted to forget that there were others in the house. He wanted to wrap himself in your warmth and addicting scent and sleep the morning away.

You were still fast asleep. Tyrone lowered the lights and climbed into bed. He snuggled you from behind. You let out a soft sound. He wrapped his hand around your tummy and felt the approaching morning like a heavy blanket. He slipped off to sleep with your intoxicating scent tickling his nose.

&&&

Masterlist | Chapter 3

[megamindsecretlair]

The Secret Tyrone Files

Do not copy or repost my work. Reblogs are encouraged. Do not use my work to train AI. 18+ only. Minors do not interact.

Tyrone/Fontaine x Black!reader Fics

Sunshine - use of N-word.

Sit Back and Unwind

Substance

Sunday - use of N-word

Sprung - use of N-word

Run it Back

Stay With Me - Use of n-word

Worship - use of n-word

Have Mercy - use of n-word

Just One Taste - heavy use of n-word

A Seduction at Midnight

A Seduction at Midnight Prequel

Pour Into Me - Parts 1 and 2

Let Me Hold You

Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series

Break Me - multiple uses of n-word

If You Please - Fontaine

Pretty (Pretty) Boy

With This Sin

Wrong For It - Follower Celebration fic

Blackbird - Fontaine, use of n-word

BedRock - Tyrone and Fontaine, use of n-word

[megamindsecretlair]

Hey, since you made a Fic where Tyrone was a vampire, Could you do one where he’s a demon the reader does a deal with. He does the reader a favour and exchange, he has a night with them?

A/N: Whew. I'm trying to get to some of these requests! Forgive me for taking so long!

With This Sin

Pairing: Demon!Tyrone x Spooky!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Use of pet names. There is a power imbalance, there is a sexual favor being exchanged, but it's consensual. Use of magic. Mentions of Hell. ONE SHOT.

Summary: See ask. You found a spell in a thrift store and decided to try it, not knowing if it would work or not. When it does, you're unprepared for what awaits you.

Word Count: 5,242k

A/N: I hope ya'll ain't think I forgot about my baby. He just needed some rest. He been working overtime these past few months, LOL. Who's ready for more spooky Tyrone? I've been teasing this so long that it felt like I was the only one excited. Ah well, LOL. Sorry about the wait, but I hope you enjoy! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @babybratzmaraj @iv0rysoap @misskiki90

You checked and double checked the incantations, the warnings, and the ingredients you gathered. The spell was written on old parchment and the wrinkly paper crinkled in your hand as you smoothed it out. Reading by a full moon was hard, but you didn’t want to damage the paper further.

When you found it in the thrift shop, you knew it was special. While you didn’t truly think this could work, why not try it? You had nothing to do and your friends were off being boring bitches at the club, shaking ass for lame fuck boys who didn’t have the dick to back up all their talk. 

The blades of grass sank beneath your knees as you fidgeted. You were nervous. Of course you were nervous. What if it really did work? What if? 

A quiet breeze caressed your exposed shoulders in your tank top. The instructions were too faint to see what else you were supposed to wear. You opted for a long skirt to protect your skin from any creepy crawlies in the ground. You loved nature, but not that much. 

You stood up from the ground and rechecked the circle you made. According to the spell, you were to spend all month collecting interesting rocks, seashells, pebbles, or whatever else that was shiny and happened to catch your eye. You made one giant circle, big enough to hopefully contain what you were going to summon. 

At the directional gates, you placed items of great value to you. You placed a necklace handed down to you at the North gate, a rook from a chess set at the West gate, a yo-yo at the East gate, and a photo of your grandmother at the South gate. You walked the circle to ensure that there were no gaps that the demon could slip through. No loopholes it could worm its way past.

The only thing left to do was…the actual spell. You took a few deep breaths, listening to the music of the meadow you were in. Finding this open place, away from nosy passersby, under direct moonlight, was a challenge and a half. You were about to give up when you found this place. 

There were sounds of chirping, crickets, and the breeze playing in the giant trees overhead. Your breathing slowed until it matched the natural rhythm of the space around you. Your feet were bare and your toes burrowed into the grass. Your hands were spread, fingers wiggling to ground yourself in your body. 

Here it goes…

You began the spell, chanting the exact words from the parchment. You studied it so many times, consulting several pronunciation websites, that you knew it by heart. You needed clear speech, clear thought, and intent in order to accomplish your goal. 

At first nothing happened. You kept going, watching the circle intently for any hint of a change. By the third stanza of the spell, the air before you shimmered like heat off of asphalt. Your heart leapt in your chest but you didn’t stop. You continued, focusing all of your energy to summoning a demon with enough power to accomplish your goal. 

The air split, like two hands poked through and ripped the fabric of reality. Red smoke seeped through, spilling into the circle and brushing against the boundary of the circle. You watched for any areas it might seep through. It held. 

It was working! Your heart worked double time, too excited to contain it in your chest. A grin crossed your face, eyes opened wider. You didn’t want to miss a thing. 

Out of the smoke, there was movement. There was so much red smoke, you couldn’t see what was coming out. Were there tentacles? Bones? Husks? Was it a meat suit? It could be anything.

On the last stanza, your voice rose. Amplified in the meadow. The birds stopped chittering. The breeze increased, blowing against you and making you sway. You continued. Mother Nature herself was watching what you were bringing into this world. Trying to stop you with the first element available to her. 

You planted your feet, hoping she wouldn’t open the ground beneath you and swallow you down to Hell. You were more of a cold weather type of girly. Plus you’d miss ice cream too much.

The final word dropped from your lips as a booming crack ripped through the open sky. You looked above for any sign of thunder or lightning. 

The sound of a sigh brought your attention to the circle. There stood…a man? He rolled his neck, stretched his arms as if he were waking from a long nap. He walked around the circle. Beyond him, the split in the air was still open, spilling that red smoke. The man kicked it up as he walked the around it.

Power radiated off of him. It made you take a few steps back as you were staggered by it. The sheer magnitude of it was impressive and only your little circle kept him in line.

He reached out his hand, pulling his hand back as if the boundary hurt him. You licked your lips and watched him. You did it! But what exactly did you do? Your impressions of demons were ugly, winged creatures with clawed feet and devil horns. 

This guy was…just a guy. He had thick, coiled hair. Wide lips. He wore black sunglasses, a black suit with a black turtleneck underneath. A gold chain was the brightest thing on him, glistening in the moonlight. His rich ebony skin was flawless. High cheekbones. 

“Not bad, human. Not bad,” he said. His voice was like sin personified. His voice invited all kinds of dirty fantasies, dark thoughts, and naughty ideas. It reached down into your core and rubbed against it like a cat. 

You placed a hand over your chest to calm it down. It should not have that type of effect on you. And yet…as far as demons went, he was damn handsome. You knew why devils were portrayed by the hottest people now. You’d almost sell your soul too if it meant you could hear more.

He faced you, looking at you over the top of his sunglasses. His eyes were slanted like cat’s eyes, a mix of orange and red. It was the only outward sign of his otherworldliness. His presence alone nearly choked you. 

“You’re really a…demon,” you said.

He grinned, showing off a neat row of teeth. The smile made your knees weak. You had to step in place to knock some sense back into yourself. 

“Demon is such a human word,” he said. 

“So what do you call yourselves then?” You asked.

“You can’t pronounce it,” he said, the grin never leaving his face. 

You rolled your eyes. “Sure,” you said. “What’s your name then?” 

He chuckled, the sound smooth and slow as molasses. “Do you not know how this works, little human? Are you playing with grandma’s cookbook again?”

You folded your arms. “To be honest, I didn’t think this was going to work,” you said. You approached the circle but kept a respectful distance. Just because he seemed to be confined, didn’t mean he actually was. He could be trying to play you. Fool you. Trick you. Any minute he could step over a gate and snatch you up, killing you dead.

You walked around the circle. He continued to face forward. The suit jacket hid his backside, but there was plenty of moonlight overhead to highlight his features. When you made it back to his front, he tilted his head and licked his lips.

“What year is it?” He asked.

“2024,” you answered.

He tilted his head back towards the moonlight as if he were soaking it up. He merely sniffed the air, breathed deeply. Guess that answered the question on if he needed to breathe. If Hell or wherever he was from had oxygen. 

“Been a long time since I’ve been summoned. Your kind has forgotten why they’re scared of the dark. Your funny little lights and machines to scare away the big, bad, shadows creeping through the world,” he said. 

“According to this, I summon you and I get to ask for anything I want in exchange for a sacrifice. A sacrifice of great detriment to me that does not result in loss of limb, life, or otherwise get permanently maimed or disfigured?” You asked.

The man ran his tongue across his teeth, looking at you with renewed interest. He pushed his glasses up his face and placed a hand in the air like a mime. He pushed against the boundary as if there really was a wall right there. He leaned forward and tilted his head.

“Little human’s done her homework,” he said. “I’m not in that type of business. Blood, gore, and the like don’t excite me.”

“What does excite you?” You didn’t intend for that to sound flirty. Or like an invitation. Your voice naturally dipped, became sultry, breathy. 

He licked his lips slowly. You couldn’t see his eyes but you got the sense that he was paying attention to you. To the way your breathing increased, chest rising and falling a bit quicker. What else would he notice? What else could he see? Sense? You had a million questions but the full moon only lasted so long. 

“Well? What is it that you desire?” He asked.

“I want money,” you said. The man grinned but you continued, undeterred. “I want billions of generational money that sets up me and my descendants for thousands of years. It can never be taken away, stolen, conned, given away, or the target of nefarious conspiracies.” You added more caveats, things you didn’t consider before but had to.

You didn’t care if it was shallow. You didn’t care if it was selfish. You didn’t care that this was a petty fucking reason to summon a demon and play with the natural order of the world. You were tired. Tired in your soul. 

Your ancestors’ weariness was engraved in each bone in your body. You came from kings and queens. Entire Black ass empires that were world leaders in education, medicine, and agriculture. Thousands of years of dignity, unity, and a beautiful culture. Until four hundred years of bullshit that you were still paying for. Fighting for crumbs.

Your black ass was tired. Tired of the struggle bus. Tired of working and working with nothing to show for it. The powers in charge worked tirelessly to keep their boot on your neck. To keep your children poor and their children even poorer. So what if you wanted to game the system? Who the hell was gon’ stop you? 

The man laughed. A deep rumbling laugh that started in his chest and echoed as it came out of his mouth. “I like you,” he said.

The smile was on your face before you realized that you should not be that happy that a demon liked you. This whole scene was surreal but if he could truly deliver? You and your people were set for thousands of years. And you weren’t going to keep it entirely to yourself. 

You were going to help your friends, charity, start scholarships, all kinds of rewards for Black kids. You were going to pay their tuition, sponsor their businesses; you were going to be the Black Mary Poppins. You were going to upset the financial sector to the point that you’d have them mu’fuckas shaking in their boots to see what you would do next.

“So how does this work? Do you snap your fingers and boom, my bank account is rolling in money? Do you create the money? Can I take it from decrepit old white men who really shouldn’t be alive at this point?” You asked. 

The man straightened up and put his hands in his pockets. He looked up at the moon overhead. Soon, it would begin its next phase, transitioning away from a completely full moon. The parchment mentioned something of a time limit. Sort of like Cinderella. There was only so much time that Mother Nature would allow an intruder in her space.

“Does your little paper explain how I give you what you want?” He asked. “An ask like this requires a lot of power.”

“Power you don’t have?” You asked.

He rocked on his heels and grinned. “I have the power. But nothing is free. When I work in this…realm, let’s just say I need something to bond to.”

“Something like…?”  

He grinned and stared at you, you assumed. For all you knew, he was watching TV behind those glasses. Though you didn’t think so. He was too intense. Too focused. Too in tune with this dance between you. 

He waited there so long that your nerves got the best of you. “What do you need to bond to?” 

“Moments of heightened emotion. There’s power in anger, desperation, love…desire,” he said.

You scoffed and shook your head. “Sex? You’re saying you need to have sex with me in order to grant my request?” 

“If that’s where your mind went, who am I to argue?” He asked. 

A strangled, garbled sound left you. There was no way…there was no earthly way that you would open your body up to a demon just for you to get money. You weren’t a sex worker. You respected the profession but you needed a little more loving before you opened your legs. Certainly not to a supernatural being. No matter how many times your pussy fluttered whenever he spoke or the twinge of excitement low in your belly whenever he smirked or smiled.

“How do I even know you can do what you claim? You could be a liar,” you said. 

He nodded. “I can give you a demonstration. A kiss?” 

You folded your arms across your chest, feeling entirely too exposed all of a sudden. But…an errant, naughty thought bounced in your mind. 

What if it did work? Wouldn’t that be worth it? You and your people would have security. Something no one – other than rich people – got. You’d be able to live a life of luxury and leisure. Spending your days enjoying life, rather than stuck at a 9-5 you hated. Broke down, beat down, and old before you reached thirty-five. 

You stepped forward. “You can’t cross the line, but I can and no harm can befall me in the circle I created,” you said. “Right?” 

He sighed. “You was one of them teacher’s pets weren’t you?” 

“I like to be prepared.” This was insane. This was wrong. This was so beyond fucked up that you should banish him and find some other way to get what you wanted. But hell, if nothing else, you had a wild story to tell at parties. No one would believe you fucked a demon, but they didn’t have to. 

You took a deep breath and made sure to step over the circle of stones and shells and not through it. The man smiled as you stepped onto his side. His powerful aura was even more intense inside of the circle. As if he contained the combined might and power of all eight planets and their density was going to crush you. 

It was a bit hard to breathe around it. You began to pant as if you ran three marathons, weak and swaying. The man rubbed his hands together and his power began to recede. You hunched over, hands on your knees, as you sucked in more oxygen. 

There was still red smoke seeping from the gaping wound in the world, but you stayed far away from it. The last thing you needed was to be stuck on the other side. If you did survive, you had no way of getting back. 

He waited patiently as you regained some strength. You straightened up slowly, testing your body by shaking out your limbs. You were okay, you were okay. 

“I don’t even know what to call you,” you said. “If I’m going to give you my body, I ought to know your name.”

He smiled. “You may call me Tyrone,” he said. 

As far as names went, it wasn’t a bad thing. At least it was nothing crazy like Aurelius. Tyrone seemed to suit him for some reason. Besides his eyes, he could fit in with any other Black man off the street today. Then again, no one would mistake him for human if he walked past them. 

He walked closer to you. It took all of your willpower not to move. He reached out with a hand and ran it up your arm. You shivered from his touch. A full body shiver that almost set your teeth to chattering. But you felt it like a deep pull low in your belly.

He leaned in closer, taking a deep audible breath. You closed your eyes, the moment calling for a type of intimacy you couldn’t see with your eyes. You could only feel as he moved his nose across your cheek. Stepped closer and brought his chest closer to yours. He was incredibly warm. Waves of heat dripping off of him and making you forget that you were standing in the middle of a meadow. 

He brought his lips closer to yours but didn’t kiss you yet. Your lips parted, waiting for the contact. He paused, on the precipice of kissing you. 

Moving felt like it would break the moment. Destroy this bubble. You found yourself leaning forward, impatient for his lips. You felt him smile before he closed the gap and touched his lips to yours.

You gasped as power flooded through him to you by this small contact. It was as if you jumped into a pool of static. Electricity danced along your skin and underneath. He didn’t move his lips or seek more. He stood there, not touching you or pulling you closer.

The power became unbearable and he finally pulled away. It seemed like it took ages for your eyes to open. You gasped, a deep lungful of air that burned your lungs. The world seemed sharper or clearer. As if you had been blind your entire life and suddenly could see. 

He seemed to glow with some inner light that gave him a fuzzy outline. You looked towards the meadow and the green seemed more vibrant. The colors brighter. The glow bugs and birds looking down at you from the trees were curious little things. You could count how many feathers were on their tiny bodies.

“Check your little box,” he said.

His deep voice snapped you out of your rambling thoughts. You fished around your pockets for your phone. You pulled up your banking app. Your account had a few more commas in it and you clutched your chest seeing it.

“Oh shit!” You screamed. You screamed some more and looked at him. “Shit! Shit!” 

He chuckled and moved closer still. His lips caressed your cheek, temple, and moved closer to your ear. “Imagine what I could do with more than a kiss,” he said.

You dropped your phone to the ground. With that kind of money, you could buy an entire phone company. You could buy several. You moved your head and looked at him. He still wore his glasses so you reached up to remove them. He leaned back and cocked his head to the side.

“Are you sure? I can become whatever you want. What tickles your pussy? Wolves? Lions? The latest celebrity fucktoy?” 

“You. If I’m being honest,” you said. Now that you allowed yourself to feel the attraction and not just dismiss it, it was screaming at you from all sides that he was gorgeous. That he was unlike anything else you had ever seen or would see. Being with him would change your life on a fundamental level.

Accepting him into your body would change you atom by atom and you were perfectly fine with it. You continued to remove his glasses, taking in his strange eyes. He grinned as you did so. 

His fingers lightly grazed your skin as he lifted the hem of your shirt. You helped him take it off of you. You wore no bra underneath and Tyrone greedily looked at your titties. He held each one in each of his hands and kneaded your flesh. Playing with your soft, squishy mounds and running his thumbs across your nipples.

Your growing desire pooled in your panties and you squirmed from his questing hands. He held you reverently, like a goddess and he was a mere supplicant. He either dialed back his power or it only happened when his lips touched yours. While your skin tingled from the earlier contact, you didn’t feel like you were going to jump right out of your bones. 

His hands continued to play with your titties. He pinched your nipples between his fingers and you gasped, a tiny whine leaving your mouth. He grinned and did it again, not stopping until he elicited that same whine from you. 

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you said.

Tyrone captured your lips with his. Power ebbed and flowed between you and it wasn’t as intense as before. This you could stand. You appreciated even that bit of effort. 

His hands moved downwards, playing with your tummy and squeezing. “You’re so soft,” he whispered against your lips. “I could get lost in you.” His tongue played with yours, quietly seeking entry into your mouth.

“Fuck,” you moaned. His big, rough hands were the perfect contrast against your smooth skin. He continued to move downward, pushing your skirt and panties down to pool at your feet. 

You moved his jacket off of him. You took your time removing his shirt as well. He wasn’t gross underneath. You blew out a tiny sigh. Surely, he had to be anatomically correct if he got his rocks off seducing people that summoned him. 

He had a solid, muscle-bound stomach that you could bounce a quarter off of if he flexed. His arms were huge. And felt like rock underneath your hands. His pants were next, flowing down over strong hips, thick thighs, and long legs. You wanted to take a bite out of his ass. 

Now you were both naked, both gripping at each other’s bodies like you didn’t know where to start first. Where to kiss or grab or lick. You settled on licking his chest to see if he tasted as good as he looked. He tasted even better. The chain around his neck was settled like a weight around his neck. You played with it, while he dropped his head to your shoulders and kissed you there.

He nibbled on your skin while your hands traveled over his body. He didn’t need to pour his magic all over you in order for you to feel dizzy with desire. You were shaking with the burning need to take him. To ride him. Your hands cupped the length of him and you froze.

That…couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be that damn big. Your mouth dropped open as your hand continued to stroke him. He was long and thick, with a nice bulbous head that leaked precum. You…were in danger.

As if reading your thoughts, he dropped to his knees and took you with him. You gasped, finding a blanket beneath you now. You saw hints of red around the red smoke. Giving the illusion that you were sitting on a bed of red clouds in the sky.

He pushed you onto your back and gripped your knees. He grinned, eyes seeming to glow, as he pried your legs apart. You moaned, gyrating on the softest blanket you’d ever felt. It was a bit fuzzy and felt amazing on your back. 

Was the red smoke full of an aphrodisiac? Because you felt like your skin was going to burn off unless he did something. Anything to your body besides kiss and nibble on it. You were growing needier by the second. He massaged your thighs as he took in the sight of your dripping pussy.

He dropped to his stomach. No words. No warning. He flattened his tongue out and licked you from your entrance to your clit and you moaned, loud and desperate. “Oh fuck! Tyrone, please,” you said. 

“Please what, little human?” He asked. He returned to licking you, suckling at the sweet nectar your body produced. You trembled in his hands, trying to close your legs against his delicious mouth. It was too much!

Words left you as you surrendered to the pleasure. To the incredible, out of body experience you were having. His shoulders were too big to close against. He moved a little higher to ensure that you could not deny him your body. Could not deny the passion and desire flowing out of you and filling him up like a battery.

He moved his arms up to grab onto your nipples once more and roll them between his fingers. Your body arched off of the ground. “Oh fuck! Ouee, fuck, right there,” you moaned. 

His tongue flicked your clit and you were soon making teetering wails. You came with a viciously loud, echoing moan. If there was anyone nearby, they’d certainly hear you. Hear your screams in the meadow as this demon licked, sucked, and moaned into your pussy.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, trying to push or fight him off. As if that would help with the intense pleasure you were feeling. Like the orgasm couldn’t be contained in your body. Like it had to be let out somehow but was restricted by the confines of your skin. 

Tyrone’s gold chain was cold against your skin, but did little to help. Did little to help pull you back to reality. Eventually, your body did take over and you calmed down from such an intense feeling.

Tyrone kissed up your body, leaving wet kisses on your lower belly and between your breasts. He suckled one nipple into his mouth before continuing up and capturing your lips. Fuck, you smelled divine on his lips. Tasted just as good on his tongue. He kissed your jaw and your neck, licking the delicate skin there.

Your bottom lip quivered. You were still so needy for him. Needing to be filled. You were hollow. Empty. There was no existence in this life worth a damn unless he was sliding that piece of art he had in between your legs.

“Please, Tyrone. Please, it hurts so bad. I need you inside me,” you begged.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. He tugged on your neck with his teeth and you cried out, gyrating your hips against his.

“Please, please. I can’t stand it anymore,” you cried. Your voice wobbled a bit as tears gathered in your eyes. You were drunk with lust. Out of your mind. “Please.”

Tyrone lifted onto his hands and moved his knees forward. It pushed your thighs back until you were nearly folded in half. He watched you as he moved his hips and moved his dick against your wet folds.

You moaned from that alone. You sniffled, a few tears finally escaping your eyes and trailing down the side of your face and into your hair. You just needed to be complete. To be filled up. To have him…

“Oh fuck,” you rasped. He pushed inside with one hard thrust, cutting off your insane line of thinking. 

You clutched him to you as if you could absorb him into your body. You’d have to settle for the fact that he was as close as possible already. You bit his shoulder because there wasn’t enough air to scream.

He moved his hips in hard, deep strokes that made you hike your legs higher. Scratch at his back. Your titties bounced with each stroke and he licked his lips. 

Every few strokes, he’d drop down into a push up and suck a nipple into his mouth. He alternated between the two so each one got as much attention as the other. He rolled the sensitive little buds between his teeth, pushing you into another orgasm. 

On the heels of that one ending, he pushed you into another. Curses fell from your mouth like sparks from fireworks lighting up the sky. You looked towards the moon as Tyrone possessed you. Claimed you. Ruined you here right in this meadow. 

He licked the swell of your breasts as moans and grunts escaped him as well. As he closed his eyes and lost himself inside you. He groaned as he nutted, filling you to the brim with his cum. 

You came at the same time, widening your eyes as you looked at him. He looked at you as if you held all the secrets of the universe. Staring like he lived or died on your word. A different kind of power flowed between you. Something unnameable. Sacred. Cherished.

He grunted as he spilled every last drop and then removed himself from between your legs. That desperate clinginess from earlier began to dissipate. You huffed, falling back against the blanket and stared up at the night sky. 

“You will have all that you asked for,” he said. He was out of breath, same as you. You felt like you had been irrevocably changed. Unmade. Made in his image. He turned on his side and pulled you into him.

You turned to face him. You both laid there and panted, coming down from this incredible bond. “Thank you,” you whispered to him.

“The gratitude belongs with me, little human. I’ve never…experienced something like that before,” he said. He grinned. You couldn’t resist kissing him some more.

You began to tremble from the cold. He stole the heat right out of your body. He rubbed your arms, side, and ass, any bits he could get his hands on. 

You saw the look in his eyes before he said a word. “I know you have to go. It’s okay,” you said.

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. He called your name softly. You weren’t even going to ask how he knew it at this point. Maybe he could read minds or something in the spell allowed him to know you. But he kissed each of your fingers and looked at you.

“You ever think of anything else you want, you know how to reach me,” he said.

You giggled and rolled your eyes. Yeah right. You could not have a standing monthly date with a fucking demon. Though the idea wasn’t without merit. How in the hell were you supposed to ride a mediocre dick after this? 

His lips returned to yours, lazy, sloppy things that made you giggle and gasp in between. He kissed you until the very last second, the pull of the moon signaling the end of your time together. You sat up and watched him as he stepped back through the gap in the world. He blew you a kiss and disappeared inside. It sealed itself behind him and you laid back down on the soft grass, staring up and up.

You would never meet someone like Tyrone. And you feared that you’d search for him everywhere now. In every blade of grass, flower bloomed, star that blinked, or whenever you heard a song that reminded you of him. You only hoped that wherever he was, he spared a thought for you as well.

The end.

Well, well. If you need some more after that, you're in luck! The Secret Tyrone Files

[megamindsecretlair]

Midnight Sin Masterlist

Welcome, my pretties, to my Vamp!Tyrone series! Thank you so much for the love for A Seduction at Midnight and A Seduction at Midnight Prequel!

Pairing: Vamp!Tyrone x Black!Fem!Reader / Plus Size Reader

Warnings: You are in charge of your own reading experience. 18+ only!! Minors, stay out of grown folk business. I block ageless blogs! There will be smut, there will be angst, there will be feelings all around.

Summary: One night, you went out to the club to cheer up your friend. You ended up bumping into a handsome stranger, who wore sunglasses at night. He was charming and interesting and turned your heads in more ways than one. He told you that he was a vampire and invited you to his house, where he promised a night you won't forget. You willingly entered his lair and have no intention of ever leaving.

Chapters:

A Seduction at Night Prequel | A Seduction at Midnight | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7