#count dracula one shot

[bunnyluvx]

spending rainy nights with you.

featuring: vlad dracula tepes x gn!reader.

summary: you're reading late at night, and your husband grows impatient waiting for you.

warnings: minors and ageless blogs dni regardless of content.

tags: fluff | one-shot | vampire! reader | established marriage | clingy! vlad | you fight like an old married couple (you are an old married couple)

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! finally a new fanfic after 4 months. i'm really proud of this one so i hope you all like it! thank you to everyone who gave me advice, i really needed it. i appreciate you all so much! p.s i made the dividers featured, so please do not use them.

date started: 5:02PM, december 31st, 2024. date finished: 5:56PM, january 8th, 2025.

ib: @creativepromptsforwriting ♡ | wc: 2.9k | ao3

Darkness cradles the Earth in a loving embrace while the clouds cry. The moon cannot give its glow for beings below, and the stars are unable to watch the wonders of the night unfold for long without the clouds covering their view. It has been this way all evening, rain pouring down anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour, stopping for around the same amount of time before starting again. The plants and animals of the forest are grateful for the sky's nourishment, and the clouds feel so encouraged by nature's gratitude that there are no signs of this pattern letting up anytime soon.

You appreciate the weather, too, for it is perfect for reading. At the moment, you find yourself sat in one of many libraries in the castle. The rocking chair that you find yourself in is rather comfortable, and the book in your hands pulls you further into its story with every word you follow. In your most comfortable nightwear with a blanket on your lap and a cardigan around your shoulders, not many other things come to mind when you try to think of a better way to spend your evening.

"I'll be to bed soon, dear. I'm almost finished with this chapter." Your voice breaks the comfortable silence and echoes across the wooden shelves enveloping you in your little corner to reach the ears of the rather large man that is making a very poor attempt to hide.

Standing not far from you, partially behind a bookcase, is your husband, Vlad Țepeș. You've felt his presence for the past few minutes, deciding that you would wait for him to speak first, but as quiet lingered in the air, you quickly realized that he wasn't going to announce himself. Your history with Vlad goes far beyond your marriage, for the two of you were some of the first vampires to ever walk the Earth. You were good friends for a very long time, and to save the novel-worthy story, you found each other after many years of being separated and romance fiercely set ablaze. No divine being could send you someone that's close in comparison to him, and he could say the same about you.

There are a few more moments of silence before you feel wind hastily rushing against the back of your neck, followed by large, strong arms tightly wrapping around your shoulders and cold skin resting right where the air had just wafted past you. Many would find it hard to believe that Count Dracula is a clingy lover, but this behavior is of no surprise to you. For as long as the two of you have been together, Vlad has always craved closeness. When he is without you for a certain period of time, he searches the castle to take his rightful place by your side once more. He didn't have to look for long tonight, for he knew exactly where you were.

You have been obsessed with this book that you found in the library, and while he is glad that you are enjoying it, it is taking your attention away from him. This is not something that pleases Vlad very deeply, so he is planning on making some changes tonight. "You've been in here for hours. Come to bed, now." His deep voice comes with a rumble from his chest, tone composed of a gentleness reserved for you alone.

His plea does not go unheard, for you know that all he wants is for you to snuggle up with him and doze into night's comfortable slumber together. Fondness takes hold of your heart as a small, tender smile curls onto your lips. It's difficult to refuse him such an innocent ask, but it is just as difficult to pull yourself away from the narrative in your hands, so you assure your beloved, "There isn't much left. You'll be alright a few minutes more."

This earns a disappointed groan from Vlad, burying his face further into your neck. "How much more is there?"

You tilt your head and take each remaining page between your fingers until you find the next chapter, and when you find your answer, you tell him, "Three pages."

Another groan grates from Vlad's throat, prolonged from the previous one as he nestles impossibly further into your skin with his large frame leaning against the back of the wooden chair. "Remind me why we sleep at night." Your darling requests, peaking up at your face.

"Hey, you don't have to sleep at night if you don't want to. It was your idea to change your sleep schedule so that we could match," You grant Vlad his request and recall the commitment that he made to sleeping throughout the night so that the two of you would be able to be together when the sun comes up.

You have preferred day to night for as long as you could remember. You have no reason for favoring daytime other than feeling that the Earth is so much more lively and bright. The plants are so vibrant beneath the sunlight, and there are so many things that you want to experience that you wouldn't be able to otherwise. Vlad always knew that you enjoyed day more than night, therefore adjusting your sleeping schedule accordingly; As a result, Vlad told you that he was going to start sleeping through the night too. At first, you were a bit worried about such a major change to his routine, but he insisted that he wanted to see the world through your eyes. This has been the arrangement ever since, and you cannot help but feel so smitten by the idea that he is willing to introduce such adjustments to his agenda in order to be with you.

With this transition in his life, Vlad knew that he was going to be groggy. While he has a substantial amount of energy compared to most vampires, this does not exempt him from needing the same amount of sleep. Have no doubt when he swears that there is nothing that he would change about dedicating himself to your lifestyle. You were right when you said that it was his choice, but unfortunately, it does not cure the fatigue that he often finds himself with when he stirs from his night's rest.

In attempt to adjust to the pattern he promised you, he likes going to bed early. Vlad tries to be tucked in anywhere from seven to nine P.M, and typically, you are by his side. You go to bed around the same time that he does, if not a little later, so when he was preparing himself for bed without you, he got worried. He figured that you would come to bed soon, so he laid down in attempt to fall asleep. As the hours ticked by with still no sign of you, he became restless, eventually making the decision to go look for you.

A defeated huff leaves Vlad's lips as he rests his forehead against the back of your neck again. One of many reasons why he fell in love with you was because of your smart mouth, and you pick the most bedeviling times to use it. "I know that," He mumbles lowly, peaking back up at you before resting his chin on your shoulder and closing his eyes.

"You know that I can't sleep without you. Please, come to bed." The count pleads again, sweeter this time.

You almost give in to his honeyed words, their innocent warmth daring to bewitch you. Nevertheless, you keep your composure while your eyes remain on the page before you, as they have throughout the entire conversation, "You will be just fine, dear. Only a few minutes longer."

Vlad has learned much about patience in his life, especially when he found you again. All good things come to those who wait is something that the dark-haired vampire has commonly watched play out, so normally, this wouldn't be the end of the world for him. He would do naught more than pout and refuse to detach himself from you until you came to bed. Tonight, however, Vlad will not be indulging in your distractions. Quick to stand, sending a blast of wind against your back once more, the count steps to your side before lifting you up into his arms. You yelp at the unexpected change of location and almost drop your book in the process, barely being able to catch it by its spine before holding it closed to your chest and leaning against your husband. "Vlad!!" You exclaim, laughter tickling its way from your lungs moments after.

"No. I have had enough. You are coming to bed with me." The vampire declares as he begins to make his way towards the library's exit.

"Vlad, put me down!!" You demand, only moderately annoyed with him as you flail in his grasp in attempt to escape, "Right now!!"

"Nope. So sorry, my dear, but your book is going to have to wait." Vlad proclaims, lips tilting upwards in a cheeky grin as his head turns to the side so that radiant red eyes can meet yours, "Your husband requires your attendance to the nightly snuggle session. You're late."

Any attempts you're making to escape the security of this man's arms are greatly failing you, so you decide to admit defeat now rather than later. His strength serves well, and while you are grateful for it most days, this is a good example of the cons of being married to one of Earth's most powerful vampires. He can, and will, wrangle you around whenever he pleases. Your bottom lip pokes out from its place as you lean against the man's chest, determined to uphold your front of unwavering stubbornness.

Amused by your dramatics, Vlad rolls his eyes playfully and allows them to close while a chuckle vibrates up his chest and past his lips. He opens them again to admire your sullen expression, musing, "Oh, come now. I can't be that bad of a cuddler since you're pitching a fit."

Your pout is quick to dispel from your face, a long sigh expelling from your lungs just afterwards. You avoid eye contact as you agree with him, "No, you're not."

Another chuckle escapes the mouth of your lover, a sound that you are secretly glad to hear that reassures you that he isn't taking you seriously. He draws you closer to his chest as he softly murmurs against your forehead before placing a kiss to it, "Don't worry, you can read more tomorrow."

You sulk and avoid eye contact for a bit before dropping the act. It wasn't much longer before you arrived into your shared bedroom, the door coming open to reveal a sight that has grown comforting to you over the years. The room is decorated primarily in red and black, as you both adore the colors, but there are a few distinct shades around too which sets apart your individual styles. Assorted trinkets rest across dressers and shelves from the many travels that you two have taken over the years, gifts and ornaments that you've made for each other through a plethora of shared anniversaries that always bring a smile to your face every time you pay mind to them.

Variously styled mirrors, decor, and paintings hang on the walls. There is no real purpose for the mirrors other than to enhance the elegance of the room, as they are too high for both you and Vlad to see anything from. The paintings, however, hold much importance to both of you. Each illustration that lays across your walls tells a story from one of your memorable moments together. Vlad personally hired the best artist he could find to perfectly capture your most treasured experiences, and whenever you are having a bad day, all you have to do is look up to brighten your spirits.

Your husband walks over to his side of the bed and holds you above the center before dropping you onto the soft surface, causing you to puff out an exhale before your laughter sings into the air. You lay yourself across the bed and remain still while Vlad adjusts the canopy draped over the wooden post by his pillow before he launches at you. With no time to move away, he plops over your stomach, the impact of his weight causing you to wheeze. You look down at him with an astonished grin on your lips as he lays in momentary silence before lifting himself off of you to settle onto you comfortably. You sit up and adjust all of the pillows behind you before leaning back against them, prying your book open again before it is promptly snatched out of your hands and slammed onto Vlad's nightstand. You laugh and try to reach for it, imploring for its return, but that is quickly shut-down by the vampire hovering above you, "No. Sincerest apologies You'll get it back tomorrow."

Slowly, he stations himself on top of you with his head against your abdomen just under your chest. He is mindful of your body language to ensure your comfort, and when he descends his full weight with no awkward shifting or complaints from you after a few minutes, he concludes your contentment with the position and nestles his head against you with closed eyes. Your arms lift as he gets himself cozy, and once he relaxes, you wrap your arms around his shoulders while your fingers begin to comb through his hair. A smile graces the vampire's lips as your touch serves to soothe all worries away from his mind.

You cannot stop the smile that grows onto your own face as you watch his lips curl up. No soul, alive or dead, can say that they have experienced Vlad Țepeș' joy the way that you do, and for this, you are grateful. Vlad has spent so much of his life keeping up a cold, merciless profile for all vampires that dare to step to him, but charades with you are unnecessary. All of the walls that he spent centuries building are torn to shreds in your presence, and no matter his methods, they could never withstand your blinding iridescence. There is comfort in your arms that he has never found in another, and this tranquility that he has the luxury of being the only person to experience is something that he holds close to his heart. This is not something that you do knowingly, for it is who you are. You are a constant source of peace that quells the ever-roaring fire in his soul to a quiet crackle. You are what inspires him to be curious about the world, you keep his thirst for knowledge abundant with your differing perspectives, and he firmly believes that your ideas could change the world.

It's truly a shame that your eyes cannot convey the amount of love that you hold for this man, but they are doing their best. Your gaze displays your overwhelming adoration for him, and he surely feels how loved he is. When you look at him, Vlad knows that he is admired in every way he never dreamed of. Your eyes do not have to meet for him to know that you look at him like he is the greatest thing in the world, and that is all you could ever wish for. You finally decide to break the silence after watching him rest for a bit, teasing him, "Is this going to be your spot for the night?"

Any thoughts that Vlad was having before you embraced him have completely vanished. Now, it's just you, him, and your warm bed. All he can muster out is a low, "Mhm."

You giggle as you recognize his sleepiness and lift your legs slightly, asking, "Then can we at least get under the covers so that we don't freeze to death?"

A lazy, amused smirk curls onto Vlad's face at your suggestion, his nostrils flaring in a huff. "I'm not even sure that we can freeze," He admits.

You chuckle and move your hands from his hair onto his back to pat it. "Well, I don't want to risk finding out. So come on."

An agitated groans leaves your comfy husband before he begrudgingly eases himself off of you so that you could get under the covers. The two of you adjust the pillows to their normal spaces and you shake off your cardigan to toss it aside before you slip your legs beneath the sheets. A corner of the sheets lay open, and you lift them up to welcome him inside. Vlad's lips form a gentle smile, and his eyes soften affectionately at the sight before he climbs into the covers and rests himself back on top of you. Your fingers return to threading through his hair, a blissful sigh respiring from his lungs as he resumes a comfortable position. You look down at the top of his head with the same benevolent expression that you wear every time that you look at him, and your voice comes out soft when you say, "Goodnight, my dearest. I love you."

The words that you tell him every night are words that he could never tire of hearing. When you say it, he knows that you mean it, and it fills him with ease to know that when you wake up in the morning, he will get to hear you say it again. "Goodnight, my darling. I love you too." Vlad returns the sentiment, falling into an inescapable slumber with you not far behind him.

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai. any and all support is appreciated! <3

[victory-cookies]

*dracula voice* whalussy

[ultrameganicolaokay]

The Legion of Monsters (one-shot) ‘The Monster and the Masque’, ‘Vengeance Crude’, ‘The Flies!’ and ‘Dracula Chapter VII: Death Be Thou Proud!’ (1975) by Roy Thomas, Doug Moench, Tony Isabella, Marv Wolfman, Dick Giordano, Val Mayerik, Dave Cockrum and more. Edited by Isabella. Cover by Neal Adams.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [5] - Dusk

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Some evenings come with threats.

Word Count: 4242 

CW: Violence, explicit language, blood, threats

Series Masterlist

“I have no idea why you don’t like him.”

“Well, that makes two of us because I have no idea why you like him.”

You rolled your eyes at Jamie as you grabbed the coffee pot, then filled his cup while he pointed at you with his fork. The diner wasn’t very busy yet; you had the time to focus your full attention on him after taking a couple of orders to the tables, so you leaned on the counter, then stole a fry off his plate.

“Logan is nice.”

“Oh Logan is nice?” he repeated with a scoff. “He’s a giant ball of macho bullshit with no brains, that’s what he is.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh come on Jamie!”

“I’m serious,” he said as you crossed your arms to shoot him a lighthearted glare.

“You know, I wasn’t like this when you introduced Nik to me.”

“Nik is my soulmate,” he said without hesitation. “I doubt the brute caveman is your soulmate.”

“He's not a caveman.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“He just…he doesn’t look very friendly,” you said in a rush to defend him. “I’m aware of it but he’s been to wars and stuff, so it’s kinda expected—”

“Which is another red flag, sunshine,” Jamie insisted. “When was he born, you said?”

“1832.”

“You have a crush on Dracula: Lumberjack Edition?”

“He doesn’t give off vampire vibes!”

“No, he gives off werewolf vibes,” he said. “And just in case a certain popular franchise has escaped your notice, they’re both equally bad.”

You scrunched your nose up at him, still leaning to the counter while he sipped his coffee.

“What happened to the guy Nik set you up with?”

“Oh that date was a disaster,” you said with a shrug. “He talked about himself the whole time. I barely got two words in.”

“I hate when they do that,” he grumbled, making you smile.

“I swear to you Logan is not a bad guy,” you said. “He’s the furthest thing from that—which by the way, we might be just arguing over nothing. I honestly doubt he sees me that way.”

He shot you a look of disbelief.

“Sunshine.”

“No I really don’t think—”

“A lot of people you cross paths with see you that way.”

“You and Julie both say that but that’s because you’re my best friends.”

“No, that’s because we see how people look at you,” he said. “Unlike you.”

“Yeah but Logan—”

“Logan will make a move on you one of these days, and I think you should turn him down when he does.”

You wiggled your brows. “It’d be a bit difficult to turn him down while I’m climbing him like a tree.”

“Fuck him once and leave him.”

“I already decided what our future cabin in the woods will be like.”

He let out a groan, burying his face into his hands, making you giggle.

“If Logan and I start dating and that’s a huge if, considering I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me that way,” you said. “We’ll go on a double date with you and Nik, and you will see he’s actually the nicest guy in the entire world.”

“I hope he’s terrible in bed so that you will snap out of this,” he motioned at you as his phone vibrated, making him check it before he took a huge sip of his coffee, then stood up.

“Thank you so much for letting me borrow your car by the way,” he said. “It’s just that, Nik’s grandma needs a ride to the airport and…”

“It’s totally fine,” you said with a wave of your hand. “Don’t even mention it.”

“I’ll bring it tonight to your place.”

“Like I said, it’s totally fine,” you said. “Tell Nik’s grandma I said hi.”

“Will do,” he said, leaning over the counter to kiss your cheek, then walked out of the diner. You grabbed his plate and mug, but as soon as you entered the kitchen, the boss’ office door opened and he peeked his head out.

“Hey,” he said. “Bad news, Stacey can’t make it, she has the flu. Do you think you could close tonight?”

Shit.

Of course you had to close when you didn’t have a car.

You pressed your lips together, then forced yourself to smile before nodding your head.

“Yeah,” you said. “I can close tonight, no problem.”

                                                  *

Today was not going as planned, at all.

Creepy customers weren’t exactly new to you. You were pretty sure that everyone in service industry had to deal with them at one point or another, God knew you did. But usually, once you turned them down, they finished their meals and left without leaving you a tip.

They didn’t just sit there at the booth, staring at you for almost an hour.

Paul was by the grill as you walked into the kitchen and heaved a sigh, pressing your palms into your eyes, your heart beating in your throat.

It was fine. If he stayed there towards the closing time, you were just going to ask Paul to handle him, he was pretty good at that. He would deal with him, and afterwards you would just call a cab and go home and forget about today.

“You okay?” Paul asked and you dropped your hands, then nodded, clearing your throat.

“Um—yeah. Just tired I guess.”

“You sure?”

“Uh huh,” you said. “Slow day but I went to bed late, so…”  

He grinned. “Your new boyfriend is keeping you up late?”

You let out a small laugh. “It’s nothing like that.”

“No?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t even know if he likes me that way to be honest.”

“What, he just came to drive you home the other day out of the goodness in his heart?”

You nodded again. “Yeah. He’s nice.”

“Honey, I’m terribly sorry to shatter your trust in the goodness of us men, but we usually don’t do that just for any girl.”

“Yeah but Logan is nice,” you insisted. “Not to mention, he’s out of my league.”

“Did you break all the mirrors in your place or something?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Paul.”

“Take it from a guy, Logan definitely wants to…” he wiggled his brows and you grabbed the table cloth, then tossed it at him for him to catch it in the air.

“That’s absolutely not true.”

“So your crush isn’t keeping you up, then what is?”

“Have you met me?” you asked him. “I run on stress.”

“You know what’s good for stress, right?” he asked with a smirk but as soon as he stole a look out of the small kitchen window into the diner, then pulled his brows together. “Did I Beetlejuice this motherfucker or something?”

“What?” you asked, turning your head to follow his line of sight, then gasped when you saw Logan walking to the counter to sit on a stool.

At first you were surprised at the relief that hit you out of nowhere so fast that it made your head spin, because normally whenever you were around Logan, your heart would be making flips, adrenaline rushing through you. It took you a moment to understand what it was, and once you did, you let out a breath.

It was safety.

Somehow, something in your body knew Logan being there meant you were completely safe.

You let out a breath and pushed open the door to step outside, then approached the counter.

“Hey,” you said, still slightly dizzy and Logan’s hazel eyes searched your face, his frown deepening.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“I could hear your heartbeat from a mile away,” he said. “What’s going on?”

You blinked a couple of times. “You recognize my heartbeat?”

“Yeah,” he said as if it was completely normal. “And I smelled your fear. So what’s going on?”

“You what?” you asked. “I smell like fear?”

“Not normally, but you do right now,” he said impatiently. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, trying to focus as you stole a look at the booth the creep was still sitting in, Logan turning his head to follow your glances.

“He, um…” you said, lowering your voice. “He wanted to know when I get off work, and—and I said no and he’s been sitting there for an hour, just staring.”

Logan’s eyebrows rose as if he was surprised by the guy’s audacity.

“And I close the diner tonight,” you whispered. “And I gave the car to Jamie because his boyfriend’s grandma has been staying with them, and she’s really nice except for when she made that one comment about me giving it up too—” you stopped yourself. “Sorry. Um, I don’t—”

“How about I drive you home tonight?” he cut you off, making you pull your brows together.

“You’d do that?”

The look he gave you was almost reprimanding as if he was offended by you asking a question when the answer was clear as day and you let out a relieved breath.

“Logan I…” you trailed off. “I don’t know how to thank you, you’re—you’re amazing, really.”

“You have no reason to thank me, princess,” he said, making your heart skip a beat.

“I have many reasons.”

“No, and don’t worry about that asshole,” he said, nodding in the direction of the booth before turning to you, “but you need to call me when this sort of bullshit happens.”

“I don’t have your number,” you said and he paused for a moment as if he hadn’t thought about that.

“Right,” he said, taking his phone out of his pocket before holding it out for you and you smiled, then took it from him. You entered your phone number, then sent yourself a quick text before handing him the phone back.

“There,” you said with a grin. “Now we have each other’s numbers. Technology isn’t so bad, huh?”

He gave you a small smile and you cleared your throat.

“So what can I get you?” you asked, shifting your weight from one foot to other in excitement, and he frowned for a moment.

“Any chance you’ve got some of that pie from earlier?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll be right back.”

You went into the kitchen and made your way to the counter to get out the pie, then cut a big slice to put it on the plate.

“Look at that, your mood is fixed for some reason,” Paul teased you and you scrunched up your nose at him, then grabbed the chocolate sauce bottle. You carefully drew the shape on the plate, your tongue sticking out from the corner of your mouth.

“So let me guess, he’s still not your boyfriend?”

You gave him a chiding look. “Don’t.”

“Hey, I’m asking to see if I need to set you up with one of my friends.”

“Oh I’ve met your friends,” you said with a laugh. “I’ll respectfully decline, thank you.”

“They’re pretty cool guys.”

“I guess I’m not cool,” you told him and picked up the plate, then pushed open the kitchen door to make your way to Logan who was sitting on the stool by the counter.

“There you go,” you said and put the plate in front of him. “You may be curious about what that shape is on the plate is.”

“Was just about to ask you about that.”

“That’s a cigar,” you pointed at it. “And there’s an X over it because cigars suck. And that’s a frowny face right next to it because to repeat, cigars suck.”

“I see,” he said with a small grin. “A very clear message.”

“Isn’t it?” you asked, stealing a look at the booth to check on the creep but the booth was completely empty. You blinked a couple of times before you turned to Logan.

“Logan?”

“Hm?”

“Where did that man go?”

He grabbed his fork. “He left.”

“…Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Your frown deepened. “Did you say something to him?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Just a small warning, that’s all.”

You could feel the relief filling your system as a smile warmed your face, making you bite at your lip.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered as he dug into the pie while you leaned against the counter, crossing your arms on it.

“So you were around then?” you asked. “When you heard my heartbeat?”

“Mm hm.”

“How do you know it’s my heartbeat and not someone else’s?”

“I recognize it,” he said, making you raise your brows.

“Is that—” you started but were distracted by a customer asking for a refill, so you grabbed the coffee pot, went to refill his coffee and walked behind the counter again. You pulled out a mug to fill Logan coffee, then put it in front of him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Is that what you did during the French Revolution as well?”

“To repeat, I haven’t—” he started but then his lips curled into a smile upon seeing the teasing glint in your eyes. “Right. Seriously, what is this fascination with French Revolution?”

“I was weirdly into historical documentaries while pregnant with Theo,” you said. “Kinda stuck.”

“Ah.”

“Speaking of all that though, what was 19th century like?”

Logan took a sip of his coffee. “Foggy.”

“…Very descriptive, Dickens,” you said with a nod of your head. “Professor X should have you teach literature, you’d do wonders in prose.”

 That made him chuckle before he took his fork into his mouth, and you smiled at him before walking to another table to take their order.

                                             *

As the sky went dark and the closing time got closer, you realized that you hadn’t even been paying attention to the time. Paul had left an hour ago, so had all the customers but you were so lost in the excitement of spending time with Logan that if it weren’t for your phone vibrating on the counter, you wouldn’t have even noticed it was past the closing time.

“But yeah, he literally brought a kitten home from the street,” you said with a smile as you walked to get your coat. “The said kitten is now Nik and Jamie’s beloved son, but—what are you doing?”

Logan pulled out his wallet and motioned at the empty plate and the coffee mug, making you narrow your eyes.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Princess—”

“I will threaten you, I don’t care if you’re invincible and like 200 years old.”

He tilted his head. “You’re threatening me with threatening me?”

“Yes,” you said. “I will kill you with kindness and also this knife I found in the kitchen if you try to pay for it.”

“You’re terrible at threatening people.”

“I know, I’m working on it,” you muttered as you grabbed the plate and the mug to put it on the counter of the kitchen through the small window, and by the time you turned around he had already placed some cash on where the plate just was.

“Logan!”

“Technically I’m not paying for it, I’m leaving a tip.”

“That tip is more than the check.”

“Well that’s—” he started before his head whipped around, the playful smile wiping off of his face as a car pulled over in front of the diner. He gritted his teeth, making you pull your brows together.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he said. “Just do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll step outside for a moment,” he said. “Stay here.”

Your heart started pounding in your chest. “What—what’s going on?”

“I swear to you, it’ll take only a moment,” he said, his voice completely calm as he stood up from the stool. “Don’t step outside, okay?”

 “Hey asshole, I don’t appreciate being threatened!” A shout came from outside and you took a step back, panic making you dizzy upon recognizing the voice; it had to be the guy from earlier. “So I brought some friends! How about we show you some manners and then entertain your girl?”

You could feel your blood freezing in your veins and you grabbed your phone. “I’ll—I’ll call the cops—”

“Don’t,” Logan said. “They’ll only get in the way. I got it.”

“Logan…” you started but a metallic noise reached your ears as metal claws sprouted from his knuckles, making your eyes widen.

“What…”

“Stay here.”

“I-but—” you stammered but he had already walked out of the door, making you cover your mouth. Fear pounded through your system, your eyes filling with tears as you sniffled, then grabbed the knife on the counter and took a step to the closed door, but blood splattered over the huge window, soon followed by the panicked yelling of the newcomers. Your stomach churned as you swallowed thickly, then you wiped at your eyes and rushed to the door with the knife in your hand before you swung it open.

The view you were presented with looked like something out of a movie. Two of the guys writhing on the ground, one of the crawling to the car while the other looked like he was crying. The man from earlier was also on the ground, holding onto his face but you could see the blood dripping through his fingers as Logan retracted his claws, then held him from the back of his jacket and lifted him up.

“You’ve got something to say to her?” he growled, and the man let out a sob, then lowered his hands, your breath catching in your throat upon seeing the gashes on his face.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he managed to whimper through pain and Logan dropped him on his face unceremoniously, then turned to you.

“What’s the knife for?” he asked and you blinked a couple of times, forcing yourself to drag your gaze from the man.

“I was coming to save you,” you told Logan, making the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Yeah?” he asked as if humoring you and you nodded, then took a look at the men on the ground.

“Come on,” Logan said, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Let me take you home.”

You felt like you were in a haze as you rushed inside to put the knife back, grabbed your phone off the counter, then shut down the lights and closed the door behind you, locked it and turned to Logan again.

“…Shouldn’t we call someone?”

“Nope.”

“But what if you get in trouble because of—”

“I won’t,” Logan answered, gently leading you to the motorcycle, his hand on the small of your back. He put the helmet on your head and you got behind him on the bike, wrapping your arms around his waist to hold onto him tight.

The road to your home felt almost surreal. The panic still hadn’t left your system yet, your mind going overdrive with everything that could have gone wrong, or would go wrong if those creeps had decided to press charges on Logan. Even though he didn’t look worried at all, you were beginning to think you worried enough for the both of you.

And if something had happened to him, if they had gotten to him before he could beat them—

No.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to think about it.

You hadn’t even realized that your cheeks were wet with tears when he pulled over in front of your house, his head turning to the side when he heard you sniffling. You swung your leg over the seat to sit sideways on it and he got off the motorcycle to help you take off the helmet but as soon as he did, you pressed your palms on your eyes, biting inside your cheek to keep yourself under control.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, sniffling again as you lowered your hands before a shaky sigh left your lips. He lifted your chin with a curled finger, your eyes shooting up to his, your heart skipping a beat as he gently wiped at the tear under your eye.

“I’m sorry for scaring you off.”

The change in his tone was impossible to miss. That growl that had spilled from his lips while talking to that man was completely gone and now his deep voice was soft like honey, making you feel all warm inside. You blinked back the tears and shook your head fervently.

“You didn’t,” you said. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“But you’re scared.”

“Not of you,” you said, shaking your head again as you bit at your nail. “For you.”

That made him pull his brows together in confusion and you let out a breath.

“Logan, there were three people there,” you insisted. “They could’ve easily overpowered you—”

“That’s impossible.”

“They could’ve killed you!”

“Also impossible,” he said, a small chuckle escaping from his lips as if the idea was too absurd. “I told you before. I heal.”

“I’m sure there are exceptions to that, if they came up with a way—”

“Unless those guys were keeping a fully functioning high technology lab underneath the diner, they couldn’t,” he said. “Me getting hurt was not a possibility there, and the only reason they’re alive is because you were there. That’s it.”

You sniffled again.

“But did I make you betray a principle or something?”

“What?”

“Because the secretary of Mutant Affairs held a press conference the other day and he—”

“Hank?”

“Hank McCoy, yes. You know him?”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Well, he talked about how mutants have this principle—”

A dry chuckle climbed up his throat.

“I don’t have any principles when it comes to assholes like those,” he said, a shadow crossing his handsome face. “But nobody gets to hurt you or threaten you. That’s the principle here.”

Your head was spinning again for a completely different reason and you took a trembling breath, stealing a look at the building behind you before looking up to his hazel eyes, your heart beating in your throat.

“Would you like to—” you started but before you could invite him to your apartment, a car flashed its headlights at you two, making you turn your head to look at it.

Oh.

Your car.

Jamie was in the driver’s seat and he frowned slightly before he stopped the car and Nik leaned out from the open passenger seat window.

“Hey Sunshine!” he said. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

You closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again, then licked your lips.

“It’s on mute, I didn’t hear,” you said. “Uh, Logan, this is Nik, Jamie’s boyfriend. Nik, this is Logan, my…my friend.”

Nik gave him a grin as he eyed him up and down.

“Nice to meet you Logan,” he said before turning to you. “Get in, we’re taking you out to dinner. Your friend can come too if he’d like.”

You glanced up at Logan, biting at your lip and he took a deep breath, then cleared his throat as if trying to snap out of a haze.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am,” you said. “I just didn’t know they were coming—but um, would you like to join us? Nik is an expert when it comes to restaurants, he knows all the great ones.”

Logan shook his head.

“I’d better go,” he said. “It’ll be easier to track those guys down while they’re still bleeding.”

You blinked a couple of times. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll make sure they understand they shouldn’t cross paths with you ever again,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “That’s all.”

You hesitated only for a moment before you stood on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him, resting your forehead against his hard chest, the scent of pines and smoke surrounding you in the most pleasant way. He cradled the back of your head with one hand while his other arm sneaked around your waist and he nuzzled his nose into your hair to inhale deeply, making your heartbeat faster. Even though you felt like you could happily spend your whole life in his arms, you knew you had to step back especially with Jamie and Nik right there, so you slowly pulled back to look up at him. His hazel gaze went down to your lips for a moment before snapping back to your eyes and you swallowed thickly.

“Thanks,” you managed to say. “For…you know.”

“No problem, princess,” he said softly and stepped back as well, then nodded in Jamie’s direction before getting on the motorcycle.

“Be careful,” he said and you let out a small laugh.

“Likewise,” you said before he drove off and you shifted your weight before making your way to the car. You opened the door and got in the backseat, then slammed the door shut as Nik turned to look at you over his shoulder.

“Hi honey.”

“Hi Nik. Hi Jamie.”

“So that was Logan?” Nik asked and Jamie scoffed as he started the car.

“Yep. That’s the asshole I told you about.”

“Well, neither of you told me he was that hot,” Nik pointed out, grinning at you. “Did we interrupt something?”

You wiped at your nose, then shook your head. “Um, no.”

Jamie took a look at you from the rear mirror, then frowned.

“If that asshole made you cry, I swear—”

“He didn’t,” you said in a rush and buckled your seat belt. “I’ll tell you on the way. What are we eating?”

6 - Middle of the Night

[sapphic-gardn]

Dancing With The Devil

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller runs into you at a bar on the night of Halloween. He’s a gentleman and takes you home.

Warnings (18+ mdni): age gap (not specified), drinking/alcohol, intoxication, swearing, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, angel, baby, babygirl, etc.), f!masturbation, oral f!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls dont do this irl), creampie, dirty talk, joel calls reader a slut literally just once, if im forgetting anything pls let me know!!

Word count: 4.9k

a/n: Hi!!! I’ve been working on this one shot for awhile—I really hope it is everything and more for you guys! I am posting this in place of Willow pt. 3 due to a bit of writer’s block but trust it will be posted soon!! As always, please let me know what you think. I love you so much.

Also thank you to @gracieheartspedro for helping and encouraging me on this one. I can’t even begin to thank you enough, my love.

—

Halloween is your favorite holiday. For one night out of the year, you get to be anything you want, unashamedly. It’s an escape from reality, a dip into another life. And confidence comes easily when you’re pretending. You scan over your costume in the reflection of the floor length mirror in front of you—a too-tight red dress adorns your curves, black fishnets hug your thighs, and bright red stilettos accentuate your figure.

“C’mon! We gotta get to the club before the line gets too long,” your best friend appears behind you and places the headband with devil horns in your hair, “There. Perfectly slutty.” She rests her head on your shoulder and admires your costume in the mirror. She is dressed as your opposite, an angel.

“Stop panicking! The uber is still five minutes away, Pheebs.” Phoebe’s a worrier, and is never ever late anywhere, so the fact that you two are leaving fifteen minutes later than you originally planned, has her buzzing with anticipation.

While Phoebe paces back and forth at the foot of your bed, you dig through your makeup bag for your favorite red lipstick. You slightly over line your cupids bow and blend the color with your finger. You lean back and study yourself for a minute, you look hot. Phoebe interrupts your thoughts when she starts yelling about the Uber driver’s arrival. With a tug of your arm, both of you are trampling out of your apartment door in your six-inch heels on wobbly legs.

The club is suffocating. In your drunken state, the strobing lights and the bodies grinding up against you make it so much worse. Phoebe is dancing with some guy dressed as a vampire, she looks extremely unimpressed so you decide to take it as your chance to leave. You pull Phoebe away from the handsy man and shoot him an apologetic smile—you’re not sorry at all.

You feel like you’ve been resuscitated when you step out into the cool autumn air outside.

“Thank god you rescued me from Dracula. Guy was about to get his fake blood all over my white dress.” You and Phoebe share a laugh and lean against the brick wall behind you. The alcohol seems to hit you harder once removed from the chaos inside of the club. You scan the buildings lining the street in front of you and a bar name captures your attention. It’s the bar where your dad frequents with his buddies after work, one of his buddies being a painfully gorgeous dilf, Joel Miller. You know for a fact your dad won’t be there because your mom dragged him to some Halloween work party she wouldn’t stop talking about over the phone yesterday.

An idea pops into your brain and you can’t shake it, so you point to the bar across the street and tug at Phoebe’s hand, “Let’s go there! It’s probably less crowded and I’m not ready to call it a night,” you give your friend your best puppy dog eyes, and she begrudgingly gives in with a roll of her eyes and an okay, fine.

The dive bar smells of stale smoke and spilled beer. Random sports games are televised on multiple screens against the far wall and a jukebox sits in the corner playing a classic rock song from the 80s. It has character, you think to yourself. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to the marble top bars and sparkling chandeliers that decorated the club you just left. You and Phoebe definitely stand out from the crowd of middle-aged men loitering around the place. It feels a bit intimidating getting checked out by pervy old men as you strut to the bar, but it’s too late to turn back now. Plus, you are looking for a certain someone.

You scan the hefty crowd and search for the man with familiar brown curls and a scruffy beard. You double check every table and bar top with no luck, he is definitely not here. With a disappointed sigh, you chug your vodka cran and tell Phoebe you’re ready to head out.

Just before you get up to leave, you hear your name being called by a husky voice behind you. You would know that voice anywhere. You turn around, and there he is in all his glory. A tight, navy blue t-shirt hugs his chest and his biceps are about to tear the seams. He greets you with a half smile.

“Mr. Miller! What’re you doing here?” You act surprised, at least you try your best to act surprised with the alcohol running through your veins.

“Sarah’s out trick or treatin’ with some friends, got tired ‘a givin out candy, decided on gettin’ a beer to pass the time.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you sheepishly, “uh, I think I should be askin’ you what you’re doin’ here. You tend to hang at a bar with a buncha old farts?”

You giggle, “Not necessarily, no. Pheebs and I were just having a nightcap after clubbing. Oh! How rude of me. Phoebe, this is Joel. Joel, this is Phoebe, my best friend.” You gesture between the two of them and give Phoebe’s shoulder a light squeeze while her and Joel share a quick handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Phoebe. Well, I should let you girls go on your way. I’ll see ya around, then.” As you bid your farewells to Joel and start to walk forward, you nearly fall flat on your face. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought. “Woah there, easy, darlin’.” Joel grabs you by the hips to steady you before you trip over your own two feet.

“‘M sorry, Mr. Miller. I think I drank a little too much. I’ll be okay, we’re gonna order an Uber anyway.” Your hand lays flat against his chest and you bashfully look at him through your eyelashes. You’re so close to him, you can smell his cologne. Pine? Maybe a hint of sandalwood. You can see the specks of gray hidden in his beard and the crease between his eyebrows. He is so beautiful, you just keep repeating that to yourself over and over as you study his face. He is also too old for you and your dad’s best friend, you remind yourself.

“Nonsense. I’ll give you girls a ride home, your old man would kill me if I let ya walk outta here barely able to stand up on your own.” Joel keeps a hand firmly planted on your upper back as Phoebe leads the way to the exit.

Joel’s truck is an old Chevy with a single bench. You’re sandwiched between Joel and Phoebe. Phoebe’s head is resting against the window as she drifts in and out of sleep, but you are wide awake and laser focused on your thigh brushing Joel’s. Electricity shoots through you with each bump in the road, pushing you and Joel closer together. The music on the radio plays at a low volume, so low you can hear the way Joel breathes. The way his breath hitches in the slightest every time you two touch unintentionally.

You’re giving Joel the directions to Phoebe’s place, which is difficult considering you’re drunk and everything is mush in your brain. But by some miracle, Joel finds Phoebe’s apartment building, and you walk her to the front door, hugging her goodbye.

When you get back in the truck, you return to the spot on the bench right next to Joel.

“Y’could move over now, if that’s more comfortable for ya, darlin’,” you hum in acknowledgment at Joel’s suggestion.

“Mmm. Don’ wanna. ‘S comfy, you’re so warm,” you’re definitely playing up your drunkenness but it doesn’t hurt if it means you get to be a little closer to Joel. You nuzzle your head against his muscular shoulder and sigh in contentment as you feel yourself getting sleepy.

Joel chuckles, a deep laugh that vibrates through his chest straight to your temple, “Alright, sweetheart, whatever makes ya happy,” he then lifts him arm and stretches it across the back of the seat, letting you cradle into his side. You soak in the moment, relishing in the way the lights whir past you along with the houses lining either side of you. The way Joel’s breathing is steady but his heart rate is just as fast as yours. You can smell his detergent on his shirt and you can feel the way his muscles tense and relax with each turn he makes with the wheel. You could probably do this for hours, just driving down random streets, the radio quietly playing being the only sound in the confines of the car. But, all good things must come to an end, such as pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot and untangling yourself from Joel’s warm body.

No words are exchanged on the way to the lobby, or the elevator, or even walking down your hallway, just a silent reassurance by Joel’s hand on the small of your back—a message—I want to make sure you’re okay. When you get to your door, you purposely fumble with the keys and wobble on your heels. Your plan works out perfectly.

“Here, lemme get the door. I’ll walk ya to bed and get you a cup of water once we’re inside.” Bingo.

Joel swings the door open and you stumble past the threshold, immediately kicking off your stilettos. His hand finds its way to the small of your back again, gently leading you to your kitchen. You plop down on a chair and watch Joel search the cabinets for a glass. You are more than capable of telling him where they are, but you like watching the way his biceps stretch the fabric of his shirt every time he reaches to pull open a cabinet door. Once he finds a glass, he fills it with the tap and saunters over to you.

“Here ya go, angel. Gotta get you hydrated.” Joel holds the glass out to you, and you guzzle it in a few gulps, “Thirsty girl, ain’t ya? Feelin’ any better?”

“Mhm. Much better. You make it better,” a close lipped, content smile paints your features as you set the glass down on the table and get up from your seat. Now chest to chest with Joel, you place a hand on his chest and look up at him. With the heels now discarded, he towers over you. You note how his pupils dilate a bit when your eyes meet.

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Joel feels his chest tightening with each second your hand lingers on his sternum. He wants nothing more than to close the distance between you two and lose himself in the feeling of your lips intermingling. But he knows you’re off limits, you’re his best friend’s daughter and too many years his junior. So he locks those thoughts somewhere in the depths of his brain and grabs your hand to lead you to your bedroom—just so he can make sure you’re okay, at least that’s what he tells himself.

Joel enters your bedroom first, absorbing the intimate space you call your own. Old vinyl records line your shelves and plants sit on your windowsill, overgrown and cascading to the oak flooring, a book sits on your nightstand with a pair of glasses sitting atop the cover. He scans your walls and notes the art you’ve chosen to decorate with, modern paintings of silhouetted bodies intertwined. Your desk is littered with pencils and journals, one is open to a sketch of a tree. It smells like you, vanilla and jasmine, he feels himself getting intoxicated each time he inhales. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you moving around, you’re fumbling with your dresser, digging through the drawer trying to find something.

“Jus’ sit down, darlin’, what’re you lookin’ for?” Joel gently moves you aside and guides you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m just looking for one of my big sleep shirts. It’s an old Texas Longhorns shirt. You can’t miss it, it’s probably at the bottom of the drawer somewhere.”

“Alright, angel. I’ll find it for ya.” Joel has his back turned to you as he rummages through the balled up shirts in your drawer. You take this moment as your cue to make a move. You slowly start sliding your thin straps down your shoulders, careful to not expose your chest just yet. “Found it!” Joel seems elated that he found the shirt you so desperately wanted, it’s endearing. When he returns his attention to you, the piece of clothing falls from his hands to the floor beneath him. You are leisurely pulling your dress down over the curve of your breasts, maintaining eye contact as you do so.

“Can you help me get this dress off, Joel? Please?” You feign innocence and gaze at him with doe eyes. Joel is looking anywhere but you, clearly fighting his inner voice telling him what’s happening is wrong.

“I think you can do that yourself, honey. I don’ want your daddy t’kill me,” Joel stares at the ceiling, cursing whatever higher power there is for putting him in this situation. He feels you step closer to him, the tension palpable in the air shared between the two of you.

With your dress pulled just below your breasts, you take both hands and gently pull Joel’s head down to look at you, “Joel, I know you want this just as bad as I do. We’re both adults. I won’t kiss and tell, c’mon.” Your hands trail from his jaw to his neck, to his collarbones. Joel sighs, his face contorted into a look of contemplation.

“I-I can’t, darlin’. I want to, trust me, I really want to,” Joel engulfs both of your hands in his own and presses them to his heart. He is searching your eyes, for some sign of reluctance, but all he can find is pure lust.

Your hands travel south, skimming his clothed abdomen, over his soft belly, until your fingers hitch on his waistband, his words contradicting the growing bulge in his jeans. You run your nails side to side under the band of his boxers, making him visibly shudder. Then you lean in while standing on your tiptoes, and you gently place an open-mouthed kiss on his neck.

Joel grunts at that. All reason leaving him the moment your plush lips touch his bare skin, “Fuck it,” Joel grabs you by the jaw and kisses you hard. It’s electric, the kiss knocking you into stone-cold sobriety. With his other hand, he grabs you by the waist and starts leading you backwards to the edge of the bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you pull Joel down with you onto the white duvet. Joel breaks the kiss to admire your exposed chest, “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Joel takes one of your tits in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, while his hand pinches and plays with your other nipple. He removes his mouth from your tit with a loud pop, moving to the other one with the same treatment.

“F-fuck, Joel, need more, please,” you’re whining and writhing beneath him. It feels so good but you need his hands in your lower region now or you might explode. Joel peels off the rest of your dress, leaving you in small spandex shorts over your fishnet stockings. With one swift motion, Joel discards the tight shorts onto the floor.

Joel can barely form a thought as he looks at the sight before him, “No panties, baby?” Your pussy is bare beneath your stockings, making Joel salivate at the obscene vision.

“Please, Joel, please. Need you so bad. Wanted this for s-so long, I touch myself thinking about you,” you are on the verge of tears, aching to be touched where you need it most, but Joel is just gawking, taking pride in how he makes you squirm. Joel stands from the bed, leaving you confused and visibly more upset, “W-what are you doing?”

“Show me, baby.” Joel has a smug smirk on his face as he watches you grasp what he’s implying.

“Wha-what?” You are baffled, you are mostly naked, sprawled out on your bed for Joel to take you however he pleases and he’s asking to watch you touch yourself?

“Show me how I make you feel good, angel. Wanna see your pretty little fingers fuck that tight pussy.” The brashness of Joel’s words make you audibly moan. Instead of taking the black fishnets off, you start to rub yourself through the holes over your clit. You never break eye contact with Joel, gathering the slick between your folds and pushing a single finger in, using the heel of your hand to stimulate your clit.

Your eyes rake over Joel’s chest, his shirt taut against his burly stature. With just a few thrusts of your fingers, you’re close, it’s the fastest you’ve ever approached an orgasm, but Joel palming himself through his jeans while he watches you get off is unbelievably hot.

The coil in your lower belly snaps and your eyes roll back, you’re chanting Joel’s name like a prayer as you fuck yourself through your climax.

Joel groans and quickly approaches you on the bed, capturing you in a deep, passionate kiss before pulling back, “That was so hot, baby, nearly had me cummin’ in my damn jeans. I gotta taste you.” Joel trails kisses down your sternum, to your abdomen, to your mound, and stops just before your most sensitive area. He looks at you for approval, you furiously nod your head, eager for whatever he has in store for you. Next thing you know, he is ripping the fabric of your stockings that covers your pussy with no effort at all.

“Look at that pretty pussy, all for me. It’s mine,” the hunger in Joel’s eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, all-consuming and animalistic.

“All yours, Joel. Fuck! All y-yours,” you tug at his hair, grounding yourself with the soft feel of his brown curls just to confirm that you aren’t dreaming.

He starts with a long stripe along your folds, gently prodding his tongue into your entrance. You’re still so sensitive, your thighs are shaking as he holds them down over his broad shoulders. He’s sucking and slurping you, twirling his tongue over your sensitive nub every so often. He’s taking his time, learning what pleasures you most, experimenting with different techniques. He is memorizing the way your pussy feels throbbing against his tongue, how you subtly grind your hips onto his nose to chase your high. You taste so sweet, like nectar dripping from a ripe peach, he could lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue all night.

Joel is relentless, eating you in earnest, he removes his hand from the grasp on your thigh and brings two thick fingers to your mouth. You obey his command, taking both fingers in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lubricate them, the taste of Joel blanketing your taste buds. Joel removes his fingers from your mouth and places them at your entrance, sliding in one digit with ease and fucking you slowly before adding a second. He is knuckles deep in your pussy and his fingers are much bigger than yours, stretching you with a delicious burn.

“Baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, fuuuck,” Joel comes up for air, never letting up the pace of his fingers entering and leaving you.

The rough callouses on his fingers provide a whole new sensation. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Every ridge a foreign sensation that has you reeling. He suddenly crooks his fingers to hit the spongey spot in your pussy, sending you to cloud nine. He knows just the right places to focus his fingers that have you bucking your hips up. When he returns to sucking your clit, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your second orgasm.

“You’re so close, baby, I can feel it. Let go f’me,” your body obeys Joel’s words and you unravel before him, letting your whimpers and moans roar through the four-walls surrounding you. Joel slurps up every drop of your nectar like a man starving. You push his head away at the full-body feeling of overstimulation.

“Oh my god, Joel. Holy fuck. I need to suck your cock, please,” Joel gets up from the bed and you sit at the edge, immediately reaching out to undo his belt. He helps you undress him, tossing his shirt, jeans and boxers aside with the pile of your clothes laying on the floor. His cock springs to attention, his tip weeping and red. He’s big, much bigger than anyone you’ve been with before.

The shock must be present on your face when Joel takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Don’ worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he glides his thumb over your plump lower lip then leans in for a gentle kiss, a silent gesture of reassurance.

Your nimble fingers find his shaft, the skin feels silky beneath your touch, your fingers barely touching as they wrap around the girth of him. You gather the precum leaking from his tip and spread it along the length of him. You pool your saliva and hold eye contact with Joel as you let a thick string of spit dribble from your lips to the tip of his cock. You spread it slowly up and down the length of his dick.

He throws his head back and hisses, “Shiiiit, that’s it, good girl. Get my cock nice and wet for that pretty little mouth of yours. Open up,” at Joel’s request, you part your lips and flick your tongue over his slit before wrapping your lips around the fat tip.

Joel grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck and gently guides his dick further into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You release your hand from the rest of his shaft and brace yourself on his muscular thighs as he slowly starts to fuck your throat. You are breathing through your nose, trying to swallow him further with each thrust.

You peer up at Joel through wet eyelashes, admiring the look of sheer bliss on his face. His other hand is lightly pressing the base of your throat, feeling his cock go in and out.

With one swift thrust of his hips, he holds his cock in place down your throat. You are gagging, tears streaming down your face from the pressure and your red lipstick is smeared everywhere but your lips. You can’t help but touch yourself listening to Joel’s grunts and heavy breathing.

“This turn you on, babygirl? You like your throat getting stuffed with this big cock? Hm?” Joel releases you from his grip to let you answer. A string of spit and precum connect your lips to the tip of Joel’s cock. You are gasping for air, holding yourself upright with one hand on Joel’s thigh, and still rubbing your clit with the other.

You can barely form a coherent sentence, “Y-yes, I l-love it, J-Joel, s-so h-hot,” Joel chuckles, pulling you up by the armpits and meeting you halfway in a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He guides you to lay back on the bed, hovering over you, holding himself up on his forearms.

“Baby, you got a condom somewhere ‘round here?” Joel starts to reach for your bedside table, you grab his wrist to stop him.

“No, Joel, wanna feel you,” you guide his hand to your breast and place a kiss on his jawline.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”

Joel fists his cock and brings it to your clit, lightly tapping the bundle of nerves, making you moan. He drags the tip through your folds, gathering your slick before slowly inserting the head of his cock into your entrance. Your face contorts with pleasure and pain, he’s barely in and you feel the stretch.

“You okay, baby?” Joel cradles your face with his large calloused hand and searches your eyes, a look of concern washed over his features.

“Yes, yes. Keep going, please,” you plead with Joel. Joel nods his head and places a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. He goes slow, you can feel every ridge and vein of his dick as he sinks into you further. The massive stretch of his girth burns so good.

When he bottoms out, you can feel him in your guts. You’re so full of him, so consumed by him in every way. He stills, letting you adjust to the size of him. The burning you feel quickly fades and you’re left craving more.

“Move, baby. Please, Joel…move,” Joel starts with shallow thrusts, examining your expression with each movement. He loves the way you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to contain your moans. He basks in the way your sweat mingles with his, a way of marking you as his own. His primal instinct takes over and he pulls out completely before plunging into you hard. Your pussy is squeezing his cock with each deep thrust.

The mixture of sex and Joel’s musk fills the air, you’re so close to him, you can see a drop of sweat forming at his hairline. His curls stick to his forehead and his lips are red and puffy. His mouth hangs open as he watches where your bodies meet, his shoulder muscles are flexing each time he fucks into you. Just the picture of him before you can send you into oblivion.

Joel brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing it in small circles. Your eyes roll back, you feel the white hot fire burning in your lower belly.

“Nuh uh, babygirl. Look at me when you cum. Wanna see those pretty eyes,” Joel’s words shoot straight to your core, and when you meet his gaze, you completely lose it. Your climax hits you like a truck, it completely consumes you, sending you to another dimension.

You can’t contain the noises that emerge from you, it’s a string of incoherent curses and Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. As you come down from your high, everything is blurry, except for Joel. He looks so fucked out, watching you expose yourself to him in the most vulnerable of ways.

Joel suddenly pulls out, scoops you up and tosses you down onto your belly, “Get on your hands and knees f’me, baby,” you scramble onto all fours and arch your back, looking over your shoulder at Joel. “Jus’ like that, fuuuck, fuckin’ perfect little slut for me, ain’t ya?” Joel calling you a slut makes your pussy clench around nothing. With no energy left to spare, you just moan in response.

He thrusts into you with no warning, making you yelp. At this angle, he feels impossibly deeper, the tip kissing your cervix each time he shoves you full of his cock. Joel’s grip is bruising on your hips, sure to leave marks that will fade to purple by the morning. His pace is frantic, sending your body into overdrive. Every one of your nerve endings feels like they’ve been lit on fire, the overstimulation sending you into a fucked out daze.

Joel grabs you by the hair and yanks you up into a vertical position, his hand snakes around your throat while his other arm is secured at your waist. You can feel his coarse stubble on the shell of your ear, his lips whispering filthy words that make your pussy pulse around him. The room is spinning, your only hold on reality is the feeling of Joel surrounding you in his strong embrace.

Joel’s fingers find your overstimulated clit, he’s pinching and rubbing, making you wriggle in his tight grip.

“One more for me, you can do it, baby. Can you be my good girl?”

“I-I c-can’t,” your pleas fall on deaf ears, Joel doesn’t let up in the slightest.

“Yes, you can, baby. You’re alright, I gotcha. One more, that’s all I need,” you just nod in response, letting yourself feel every sensation lighting you on fire.

Joel’s lips find your pulse point, he begins sucking and biting, then licking and soothing each mark. You feel him everywhere and it’s too much. Your whole body tenses as your fourth orgasm of the night takes over your body. Joel has to hold you upright as your body convulses and your vision goes white.

As you feel your climax nearing an end, Joel’s thrusts become sloppier and start to falter.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where d’ya want me?”

“Inside, please, Joel. ‘M on the pill. Want you to fill me up,” at the sound of those words falling from your lips like sweet honey, Joel stills inside of you, whimpering and moaning in your ear. You feel the thick ropes of cum coat your walls and drip down the inside of your thigh.

Joel pulls out with a hiss, the action leaving you feeling incredibly empty. He falls onto his side on the bed, taking you with him. You turn in his arms to face him, admiring how peaceful he looks.

You relish in this moment, noting the way your bodies are intertwined. The sound of Joel’s heartbeat rings in your ears and settles in your memory. You mindlessly draw hearts on Joel’s chest with your pointer finger. He stares at you through hooded eyes, on the verge of sleep.

“What are you thinkin’ about, beautiful girl?” Joel kisses your forehead, you feel him smile against your skin.

You giggle, giddiness consumes you, “Jus’ thinkin’ about how you just ruined every other guy for me,” it’s a true statement, but you aren’t disappointed in the slightest. This is all you want, now and forever.

“I ain’t lettin’ any other guy come near you again. You’re mine now, sweet girl.” Joel pulls you closer against his chest and kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, basking in it.

A toothy smile creeps onto your face, “I’m yours, Joel.”

—

a/n: if you made it this far—hi! thank you!!! this is my first time ever writing smut so please be kind :,) sending you so many hugs and kisses <3

taglist (i just used my taglist for willow im sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged):

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @alejaa-a @cool-iguana @littleshadow17 @planet-marz1 @alyhull @joeldjarin @lizzyervs @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @loveisacowboyyy @thegrlwholivedd @ashleymsnodgrass @ilovepedro @dilfspitdrinker @bastardmandennis @breakfastatjoels @gracieheartspedro @chaotic-mystery

[hotvintagepoll]

How are the more recent Dracula castings affecting the movie?

When we last left off, Jimmy Stewart (Jonathan) had just beheld Mary Philbin (the agonized woman) getting eaten by wolves. (this being a vintage film we do not actually see her get eaten. we are given a haunting image that subtly conveys her getting eaten which is somehow ten times worse). He stares, shocked and bereft, out his lonely black-and-white window in Castle Dracula. The movie has gotten very solemn and a little bit artistic.

SMASH CUT to Omar Sharif (!!) and Leonard Nimoy (?????) on board the Demeter! Omar Sharif makes total sense for this role and is conveying responsibility, stoicism, nobility. Leonard Nimoy is thanking god and his agent that he finally got onto a film that doesn't have him in the pointy ears. (he is still contractually obligated to call the strange cargo they have on board "fascinating.")

Back in England, our heroines Setsuko Hara (Mina Murray) and Judy Garland (Lucy Westenra) are sitting by the seaside cemetery, enjoying the ramblings of old seaman Mr. Swales. because Mr. Swales is played by Ed Wynn, this is less "crusty old sea man giving bram stoker's idea of a British dialect" and more "the movie is suddenly produced by Disney in the 1960s and everyone is having a GRAND time because this man is Silly™." his various tales of suicides, deaths at sea, child abuse, and familial hatred are all suddenly very harmless and cute and Setsuko Hara is wondering where all the Technicolor came from.

Back in Hell on the Demeter, the movie is sliding back into black and white as the fog gets thick and the crew is picked off one by one. Omar Sharif is shooting for an Oscar with this one. He is terrified stoicism personified. Leonard Nimoy has hit his stride and is doing that brand of feverish madness the amok time fans know so well. We catch a shot or two of Gloria Holden's Count, but she is mostly veiled in mystery.

In Whitby, a plucky reporter sees a ship coming in: Ethel Waters is on the case! You know if anybody is going to book it on to a ship with a corpse tied to it (rip Omar) with 0 issues, it's going to be her. She's after a story, by god, never mind that mysterious dog!

Speaking of that mysterious dog, it's headed up the hill toward the cemetery. Boy, I hope it doesn't run into Mr. Swales. Seeing an Ed Wynn character get killed off in gruesome fashion this early in the movie would be a pretty horrifying tonal switch! I'm sure he'll be fine though, the movie seems so lighthearted and comedic now :)

[distort-opia]

I keep pondering the nature of the Covenant in Nosferatu (2024), and here I think Eggers made a great choice in his use of Knock's character. His role is usually pretty simple-- he jumpstarts the chain of events by sending Thomas to Count Orlok's castle. And yet, in the original story of Dracula, there was no Covenant or Pact to speak of between them. Neither was there one in Nosferatu (1922). However, the very first thing we see in Eggers' version of the story is Ellen and Orlok forming a Vow: she swears to be his, ever-eternally. Then years later, this Covenant is broken; Orlok has to actively pursue Ellen in order to have her re-pledge it, as she is not within his sphere of influence anymore (not until the locket with her hair in it falls in his grasp). But what exactly broke their Vow? What does this Vow entail, and how does it work?

I think the most revealing are Knock's scenes, in this regard. Knock boasts while in the lunatic asylum, "‘Twas He that invoked me! ’Twas I that was chosen to serve Him, for I know what He covets." Which means that Orlok was the one to call upon Knock, simply because he was convenient. Knock's firm had contracted Thomas for business for approximately two years, and so it had power over where he went next. Orlok demanded that Knock deliver him Thomas, which Knock manages to do successfully... while he remained in Wisburg, "near the object of thy Contract."

Originally I thought that Knock meant Orlok's Contract with Ellen, but it's more logical that Knock is talking about his own Contract with Orlok, and that Ellen is the condition that it hinges upon. And if ultimately Knock delivered Ellen to Orlok... the Count would give him what, exactly? After Von Franz and Sievers rifle through Knock's papers, we find out the terms: "His thunder roars from clouds of carcasses, I feedeth on my shroud, and death avails me not. For I am his."

So it's immortality, obviously, like in all previous iterations of the story. Orlok made a Covenant with Knock, that he would turn him into a vampire like himself. But what's fascinating is the particularity of it-- immortality, but only if Knock belongs to Orlok. Later in Grunewald Manor after Orlok's arrival to Wisburg and Knock's escape, Knock is so eager to serve. He insists that he bring Ellen, "thy pretty possession", to Orlok.

But Orlok shocks him by betraying him. "The compact commands she must willingly re-pledge her Vow. She cannot be stolen." And that's when Knock realizes that Orlok never intended to make him his. That he had always wanted Ellen... though to be fair, it can't come as that much of a surprise, as Knock showed jealousy towards Ellen before. It's even likely that Knock left the means of destroying Nosferatu within his own possessions for the vampire hunters to find on purpose, as insurance. But at that moment he still says, desperately, "Yet my Lord, I beg thee." It's to no avail. Orlok strikes him and tells him to "crave nothing more of him", uncaring of his pleas. Later Knock is the one to die in Orlok's place-- a decoy within the Count's coffin, eager to be killed, heartbroken. Before he dies, he tells Von Franz, "I relinquished him my soul. I should have been the Prince of Rats – immortal… but he broke our covenant… for he cares only for his pretty bride." In doing so, he alerts Thomas to Orlok's real intentions, which arguably is one last shot at Orlok for his betrayal.

It's quite sad, in the end. It's also fascinating, because this means Orlok can bestow immortality... but the very foundation of the Covenant is made up by emotional belonging. It seems as if vampires can only make one other vampire, in Eggers' world-- mutually agreed upon and exclusive, like marriage vows. And if Orlok broke his Covenant with Knock by choosing Ellen, it means that Ellen broke her original Covenant with Orlok by choosing Thomas, and marrying him. A different type of Covenant, also steeped in belonging. Ultimately, Orlok had to trick Thomas into "signing Ellen away for a sack of gold", because she was bound to him, as per her own choice. And so, if Ellen hadn't kept Orlok with her after the third rooster crow, Orlok would have made her a vampire too.

It's just my personal interpretation, but I love this idea... vampires only being able to make one other. Being forced to respect the terms of a supernatural deal that works like marriage vows, which can be easily broken by infidelity-- you've got eternity and you can only find someone else to spend it with if that person wants it too. You cannot make another vampire if they are unwilling, which is why the others bitten by Orlok simply die, and don't turn. It must be something desired.

[rapturously]

✠⠀༷ ゜𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐒 & 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒.

regarding character muses and fandoms.

⠀˹ 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐬 & 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 ⠀ཾ༵࿇ ˼

all characters listed here are able to be requested for one-shots & drabbles. all are grouped according to that specific fandom.

✠⠀༷ ゜ 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

michael myers — (rob zombie & 2018)

jason voorhees

thomas b. hewitt — (tcm remake)

brahms heelshire

eric newlon / john carver — (thanksgiving)

the sinclair brothers — (bo, vincent, & lester)

billy loomis

stu macher

mickey altieri

richie kirsch

ethan landry

amber freeman

tiffany valentine

brendan kemp / steve — (fresh 2022)

jackson rippner — (red eye)

─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─ ─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─

✠⠀༷ ゜ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐲.

hellboy — (all movies)

abe sapien — (del toro verse)

prince nuada — (hellboy films)

the lost boys (david, dwayne, marko, paul & michael)

the yautja — (predator)

count dracula — (van helsing 2004)

gabriel van helsing — (van helsing 2004)

pyramid head — (silent hill)

count orlok — (nosferatu 2024)

─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─ ─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─

✠⠀༷ ゜ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦.

bruce wayne — (the batman 2022)

edward nash / the riddler — (the batman 2022)

oswald cobb / penguin — (the batman 2022)

julian rush / the scarecrow — (the batman 2022)

selina kyle / catwoman — (the batman 2022)

sofia falcone — (the batman 2022)

jonathan crane / scarecrow — (bale batman verse)

─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─ ─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─

✠⠀༷ ゜ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞-𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.

jim hopper

steve harrington

edward ‘eddie’ munson

henry creel / vecna

jonathan byers

─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─ ─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─

✠⠀༷ ゜ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧, 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧-𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧.

dean winchester

sam winchester

castiel

lucifer

gabriel

gadreel

─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─ ─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─

✠⠀༷ ゜ 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

father paul hill — (midnight mass)

arvin eugene russell — (the devil all the time)

v — (v for vendetta)

eric draven — (the crow)

jesse pinkman — (breaking bad)

ellen ripley — (alien franchise)

david 8 — (alien franchise)

william afton — (fnaf movie)

michael schmidt — (fnaf movie)

eddie gluskin — (outlast)

leon kennedy — (resident evil)

lady alcina dimitrescu — (resident evil)

karl heisenberg — (resident evil)

joel miller — (the last of us)

rick grimes — (the walking dead)

daryl dixon — (the walking dead)

joshua washington — (until dawn)

mike munroe — (until dawn)

jim — (28 days later)

─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─ ─┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄─

[whateverloomis]

I just came up with a good idea for a prompt. So basically #5 on the list but maybe make it a vampire AU?

Essentially everything’s the same with Billy and Stu but the only difference is they are both vampires. Like a vampire Ghostface 👀

And only because I enjoy it, extra bloody 🩸

Anon, this idea is crazy and I absolutely love it. Buckle up because this one is a wild ride 😈

Prompt: "Is that... Blood?"

Warnings: Reader has pre-determined clothing, reader has pre-determined desires and likings, AFAB reader, SMUT, period sex, BLOOD, and lot's of it, lot's of juicy plot, teasing, vampire bites, infidelity, making out, some Stully action, unedited. If I missed anything else lmk!

Reader: They/them pronouns (highlighted in bold,) AFAB

Word count: 5k (I went insane with this one, okay?)

It was bad enough with Casey Becker and Steve Orth getting murdered, now there's reports of people disappearing and found dead, bitten in multiple parts of their bodies and completely drained.

The police says that the bite marks weren't big enough to fit the description of maybe a bear or wolf. Neither of those animals drain the blood out of their pray either, which automatically discards them from the suspected killer creature. The case was more complicated than it sounded. It wasn't as simple as to pin it on a random animal and call it a day, those were serious murders and the amount of people that were disappearing from Woodsboro was alarming.

Some people started speculating and coming up with crazy theories. Sending in reports with the descriptions of some kind of a specific white mask that looked like a ghost, but it was decorated with fangs in it's mouth. There were also reports of two individuals spotted running around fields at unnatural speeds.

It was easy to come up with those kinds of things. People were desperate for an answer. Losing a loved one and knowing that others were at risk was terrifying. It was understandable, but complete insanity at the same time. The town seemed to be going collectively crazy.

"What if there are vampires out there... It sounds crazy but there have been reports of very similar cases in many other places outside of Woodsboro." Tatum questioned, that time around sounding more serious than previous. Randy scoffed at her comment and stood up. It looked like he was going to tell a speech or something.

"Listen, this started off as a typical slasher movie and now we're mixing Dracula with it? C'mon guys! It doesn't make sense! It's like believing aliens exist or something-" - "Aliens do exist man, I saw a UFO once. It was insane." Stu added and Randy looked at him in disbelief of his stupidity level. "This isn't a game, Stu. I bet you were high as fuck when you saw it." - "Correction, I was drunk, therefore no hallucinating was involved. It was definitely a UFO." Stu said, 100% convinced.

"I believe you, Stu." you answered and Stu pointed at you. "Hah, see?!" Stu said excitedly and you laughed softly, clearly leading the boy on to mess with Randy.

"YN, you're not helping my case here." Randy said and you shrugged, rolling your eyes playfully. "Listen, going back to the main topic here. These murders are definitely strange. Bite marks? And they don't even seem like it was an animal that made them? Something's off." You said, "Plus it'd be kinda hot to have vamps running around." you continued. "I second that." Tatum said with a smirk on her face.

Billy and Stu looked at each other, devious smiles on their faces that only you saw. Billy quickly shot a glare at you and you looked away, sudden goosbumps taking over your body.

"You're insane. If you guys want to be delusional and believe that nonsense go ahead, but there's a logical explanation to this. I just need more time to figure it out." Randy said and Billy sighed, annoyed at the boys rambling. "That's nice and all, but I have a class to attend." - "Billy, you're like 15 minutes late." Sidney said, slightly concerned at his carelessness. He looked at her and gave her a quick kiss, reassuring her that it's not a big deal.

You felt a pang of jealousy at the sight.

Billy's a player. He had been cheating on Sidney for months with you and he even told you that he didn't have feelings for Sidney anymore. He admitted that he was developing feelings for you and you were definitely falling for him too, but it was complicated. Billy kept telling you he couldn't break it off with Sid because she was hurt and vulnerable because of her mother's death. That he needed to find the right time, but it was starting to affect you emotionally. The pain was overwhelming at times and Billy had promised you he wouldn't display any form of affection towards Sidney in front of you. That promise was broken. He walked past you and gave you a loving stare. Despite the hurt you couldn't help but feel the overwhelming love that radiated from him.

Then there was Stu. You also had a relationship with him behind Tatum's back. She had dated your ex for a while after he cheated on you and broke your heart, so you hooked up with Stu as revenge, but things escalated and even if the feelings weren't nearly as strong as they were for Billy there was definitely something developing.

All three of you knew about each other and it had slowly become a triangle. It was a complicated mess, but it was yours and you didn't plan on breaking it off any time soon.

The boys didn't display any kind of behavior that revealed their truth. That revealed that they were vampires. They had been feeding non-stop, (hence the multiple murders,) to keep themselves calm and collected around you. It was very difficult at times, though. You smelled so sweet and they had been tempted multiple times to taste you. Relish in your sweet blood and make you theirs forever. It consumed them at times, but they couldn't ruin your life like that. Having eternal life wasn't a choice for both of them and it was difficult at times to process that reality. They didn't want to do anything to hurt you, yet they needed you. It was painful. It was torture.

•

"He broke a promise Stu, a promise is a promise." you explained as the boy listened carefully. As you spoke about how hurt you were about Billy kissing Sidney in front of you, Stu was trying to figure out how to comfort you without exposing his and Billy's plan about killing Sidney Prescott, and much less them being vampires.

"I understand that you're upset baby but you know he'd never do anything to intentionally hurt you. He loves you, YN." - "I just don't understand why he can't break it off with Sidney already. They're nothing at this point." You replied instantly and Stu sighed, seeming defeated. "It's a complicated subject YN, you know this. I can't speak for Billy, but I can guarantee that he's handling this the right way. The kiss was clearly to calm her down and not have her after his ass bitching about being 15 minutes late to class. You know how it is, hm?" He said as he scanned your face. You looked at his blue eyes and couldn't help but get lost in them. It was as if there was some kind of force convincing you that you were overreacting. That you needed to be patient, even if you had been feeling it decrease rapidly.

"You're right." The words slipped right out of your mouth, almost as if you didn't even think about saying them. You just spoke. "I know he wouldn't hurt me on purpose I just..." You stopped yourself. You felt greediness consume you. Felt selfish about what you wanted to admit to your boyfriend, but you needed to let it out. "C'mon babe, you can talk to me." Stu said, his voice soft despite his usual goofy nature. "I just want him to myself already. Sidney doesn't deserve him, all she does is bitch at him over her mother and think about herself. I think about him. Care about him. About you. About us." You said and tried your hardest to keep the tears from falling out of your eyes. You hated how vulnerable you were at the moment, but you also knew Stu was there for you. He loved you even if you had a completely different relationship with him.

Stu let out a breathy laugh and cupped your face. He gave you a lingering kiss and ran his hand down your arm soothingly. "You have us, YN. Stop worrying so much. Everything will fall in place sooner than you think." He reassured and you smiled at him softly. Despite him being an ass and goof ball, Stu was easy to talk to and so magnetic. You couldn't get enough of him. "Now c'mon, let's go meet up with Randy and Tatum, we don't want them thinking we were making out or something." He said suggestively, a smirk adorning his face. You rolled your eyes playfully and smacked his arm, "Later, I'm still sad." - "Ugh, fine." Stu replied and walked away with you, spanking your ass along the way.

•

After having an impromptu hang out at the mall with Stu, Tatum and Randy that day, you felt a bit better about the incident with Billy. It was only a temporary fix that lasted until you got to your dorm though.

After a few hours of trying to distract yourself with assignments and reading, your emotions started to consume you once more. You sat on your bed with a few movie tapes in your hands to choose from, and of course they were horror movies. They provided a strange sense of comfort and also reminded you of Billy and all those nights you watched scary movies those first few days of your relationship, ending up tangled between the sheets. You couldn't get enough of each other.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize Billy was knocking on your window. You looked at him in surprise and set the tapes down on your dresser before opening the window for him.

"Hey." He whispered before letting himself in. You closed the window and shut the curtains before turning around to face him. "What are you doing here?" You asked firmly and Billy gave you a confused look. "What am I... What's wrong?" He asked, immediately sensing that you were upset. "You know what's wrong." You said and walked past him. Billy followed you with his eyes, your delicious scent hitting his nose immediately. You were fertil and he knew it was going to be difficult to pay attention to your words, but he had to try. For you. For your relationship. "I don't, can you explain what happened? Please?" He asked, fully attentive. You sat on the edge of the bed and he followed your actions, sitting next to you. His thigh touched yours and he was searching for your eyes desperately.

"You kissed Sidney in front of me today." You explained and looked at him seriously. Billy widened his eyes, concern written all over his face. "Fuck... Baby, I'm. I didn't realize, I wasn't thinking ab-" - "Yeah, exactly. That's the problem. You weren't thinking about it." You interrupted and stood up, facing him. "Do you even care about the things that I say to you? It was a simple request. You said it wouldn't be complicated yet you-" You stopped yourself, exhaling to try and calm yourself. Your heart rate was accelerating and Billy could hear the blood pumping in your veins. His pupils dilated slightly at the realization but he couldn't let himself act on any urges. He had to stay focused. "YN, please. You're the only person I care about. Your words are the only ones that matter to me-" - "Well you sure aren't acting like it, Loomis. It sure seemed like you wanted to kiss h-" - "Don't go there." Billy interrupted, sudden anger taking over him. "I love you and only you. I only want you. I just have to keep Sidney in the loop a bit longer, and I didn't want her on my case s-" - "So you used it as a distraction. Yeah, Stu explained it to me." You finished his sentence and he bit his lip in thought. "You went to Stu about this?" He asked, you couldn't detect any emotions coming from him along with the question. "Yes. I was upset and angry. I didn't want to talk to you because I knew I'd end up arguing, which would've made this whole situation worse." Billy nodded and stood up, towering over you. "I'm sorry baby, it won't happen again." He said softly and placed his hand on your cheek. "You have every right to be mad, and if you need space I understand completely, just tell me what you need, okay? I can't stand knowing that you're mad at me." he continued and placed his hand on your neck, running his thumb over your pulse point. He felt the throb of your vein and closed his eyes to contain himself before moving his hand down your arm. "I don't need space, Billy. I need you to keep your promises. I need you to show me that you really care." You said and he exhaled softly. "I do care," the boy paused and sat down on the edge of your bed again, pulling you towards him. "And i'll make it up to you, okay?" He continued and pulled you, sitting you on his lap. "I'll even go to Stu's stupid party tomorrow, and when everyone leaves it'll be just us three, nobody else." Billy finished and kissed your nose. You couldn't help but smile and kiss his lips softly. It had been a while since the three of you spent time together with nobody else around. You missed it. Missed them. "Okay, deal." You whispered before kissing him again, prolonging it.

Billy felt like he was gonna go insane with you on his lap, kissing him like you were. You tasted so sweet on his tongue, your touch felt electric and he swore that he could've came just by you grinding against his hard cock. He had to feed or else he was going to hurt you.

As much as he wanted to fuck you and devour you, Billy had to control himself. He came up with a cheap excuse to leave your room that night and fed on one of the girls from your dorm. The poor woman was walking towards the building alone, and Billy launched at her. He practically dragged her to the back of the building and pinned her against the wall, brutally biting her neck with his sharp K9s, drinking her dry in a matter of minutes. The last thing she saw was a white ghost face mask with fangs before he left her there. Another corpse to be found the next day that was sure to create more drama in the news.

•

"Samantha?! I literally saw her that night before she left to the drive in." You told Tatum who broke the news about another one of the many bodies that were found drained that weekend. You remembered that Billy left at around the same hour the incident happened. You thought maybe he had seen something. That he could provide some useful information so you met Billy at the benches behind the college campus, which was very secluded and gave him a soft smile when you saw him walking towards you. "Hey." You said, your tone soft and sweet. Billy smirked at you and placed his hand on your hip, "Hey baby." he greeted and kissed you tenderly. "Did you hear about Samantha?" You asked him, worry coating your words. Billy visibly stiffed but kept his cool with his facial expressions. "No, what happened?" He asked, expertly pretending that he was clueless. "She got killed the same day you came over to talk... I was just wondering if you saw something when you left. We weren't friends or anything but... Billy, I'm kinda scared." You admitted and he frowned, pulling you into a comforting hug. If only you knew he was trying to keep you safe. To keep you alive and well. To keep your love for each other growing. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, you hear me? Nothing." He said firmly. You pulled away and looked at his eyes. He was dead serious and you immediately felt comfort. You knew Billy would do anything for you, just like you would do anything for him. You thought back to that night when he suggested you guys staying over at Stu's, and with the incident it seemed like it was the best option for everyone.

"Awh, look at you love birds." Stu said walking towards you guys. "Keep it down, would you?" Billy said, annoyed at his friend being so verbally open. "Oh c'mon, it's just us here, lighten up." Stu replied and hugged you from behind. You looked at him over your shoulder and he kissed you. "That's my baby." He cood and you couldn't help but giggle at his words. Billy stood there in front of you guys, his eyes roaming your body and observing how you behaved with Stu. He couldn't deny that he liked seeing you two being so affectionate with each other. "You want a kiss too?" Stu asked Billy teasingly and the boy rolled his eyes, annoyance written on his face. "Take a hike." he said and Stu laughed. "I love you too."

You laughed at their interaction. Stu was undeniably attracted to Billy but the boy was hard to read. Your relationship kept growing by the minute and you wouldn't be surprised if they ended up having some kind of dynamic in the future.

"You guys coming to my fiesta tonight?" Stu asked and Billy raised at eyebrow. "Yeah, we're staying over." He said, pointing at you and then at himself. Inviting you without a care. "Well shit, okay." Stu said teasingly, releasing a breathy laugh. Billy smirked then looked at you. Tension was surrounding the air around you and you blushed as a consequence.

•

Stu's house was packed. There were people you didn't even recognize hanging out and you were determined to go to the pool to avoid as many people as you could.

As you approached the back doors that lead to your desired destination, Tatum, Stu and Sidney were already in the pool, close to the steps. Stu and Tatum were in the water trying to convince Sidney to get all the way in as she complained about it being too cold.

"Mind if I join?" You asked, already taking your cover up dress off. You had a blood red colored bikini on that hugged your body perfectly. Your tits were on display, the slightest bit of under boob was visible and the cheeky bottoms made your ass pop out.

"Looking hot YN, you're gonna have to tell me where you got that bikini later." Tatum said, a genuine smile on her face. Despite her dirty move with your ex she was an honest girlie, which you appreciated despite your resentment. "You've got that right babe." Stu answered and stuck his tongue out. Tatum rolled her eyes playfully, not knowing that her boyfriend's usual flirting wasn't casual in the slightest.

You dipped your toes and widened your eyes. "What the fuck guys, the water is cold." you agreed with Sidney and sat next to her, trying to get half of your body used to the temperature first. "Oh c'mon guys! Get in!" Tatum shouted and pulled Sidney by her legs, the girl releasing a yelp before sliding all the way in the pool. Stu walked towards you and picked you up by the waist and over his shoulder, walking deeper into the water. "No! Stop it!" You said playfully and Stu released you, the cool water hugged your body and the shock of temperature felt good in a torturous way. As you floated up, you took a deep breath and hit Stu on his bicep playfully. "Asshole." - "Oh don't be a cry baby." He said and you rolled your eyes. "Hey, where's Billy?" You whispered at the boy and he smirked at you, "Mmm you want him to see you in this little bikini of yours?" Stu replied teasingly and played with the straps of your top. You smiled teasingly and flicked his hand. "Relax, he's getting us some beer from the garage."

A few minutes later Billy walked out with a six pack in his hands. "There's my booyy, and he brought just enough for everyone." Stu cheered and winked at you. The girls walked out to grab their drinks and you followed them. "Can you get me mine babe?" Stu asked, staying behind. "Seriously?" - "C'mooon" He begged, and you couldn't deny him when he was being that cute and whiny.

The girls grabbed their bottles first and you followed second. Walking towards Billy you smirked at him as he shamelessly looked at you from head to toe. "Fuck, baby... Are you trying to kill me tonight?" He whispered and you let out a breathy laugh. "Mm, who knows? Maybe I'm the vampire." You said teasingly and Billy laughed at your dark comment. You winked at him before grabbing two beer bottles and approached the edge of the pool where Stu was. You sat on the floor, dipping your feet in. The boy grabbed the bottle from your hands and took a swing.

Suddenly, he got the sweetest smell from you. A faint musk to it as well. He looked at Billy to see if he also detected it but the boy was making small talk with Tatum and Sidney.

"So, is Randy around?" You asked Stu and he shook his head slightly before taking another swing of his beer to ground himself. "Yeah, he's inside watch..." he suddenly stopped talking and looked between your legs. A small amount of blood and water pooled between them. "Is that... Blood?" Stu asked, his pupils dilated slowly. "What... Oh my God..." You looked between your legs. You got your period early. "Fuck..." You whispered and moved subtly reaching for the towel on the chair behind you. Stu felt like he was getting intoxicated by your delicious aroma. He felt his fangs starting to grow and he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to control himself. Luckily, you picked up the towel in time to wrap it around you and excuse yourself.

Stu made eye contact with Billy. He also knew. When you walked past him his pupils started to dilate as well, but he had much more control than Stu when it came to the urge of tasting you. Billy made his way to Stu and crouched down in front of him. "Get ahold of yourself, we can't risk getting caught, you understand?" He whispered, aggression lacing his words. Stu sighed and looked up in defeat. "Man, how the fuck are we gonna be able to resist if they're going to sleep over tonight?" Stu asked, desperation slowly overwhelming him. "We'll figure it out later, okay? Just keep it in your pants for now." Billy replied and glared at him before stepping inside the house to make sure you were okay.

•

You stepped out of the shower after excusing yourself for the rest of the party. Billy was constantly checking up on you until everyone left and all three of you were finally alone.

You put on leak safe underwear since you preferred to free bleed, and one of Stu's sweaters which covered your body perfectly, given your size difference.

When everyone finally left the house, you went down stairs to look for the boys and help clean up the after party mess. To your surprise, Billy and Stu had taken care of everything. You wondered how long it took them to finish everything, it hadn't been long since you heard the music stop playing and the sweet silence of the absence of the herd of people that were drowning the house.

In the kitchen, Billy and Stu were talking quietly. You couldn't make out a single word they were saying, so you assumed they thought you were fast asleep and didn't want to wake you up.

You barely took a few steps in the room and their eyes were already on you. They seemed darker than usual.

"Hey baby, how you feeling?" Billy was the first to speak. He walked towards you slowly and placed his hand on your cheek. "I'm fine, I just didn't want to be around people." You answered.

The vibes were off. The boys were strangely quiet and mellow. Their gazes were intense and their eyes didn't look the same as they usually did. They were scanning your body like hungry animals and you were starting to get a little bit freaked out.

"Why is everyone acting weird? I just got my period a day early, it's not a big deal. Seriously." You said, starting to get kind of annoyed at their strange behavior and lack of words.

"You see, that's what you don't understand YN, it is a big deal." Stu said and started to move towards you almost as if he were hunting a prey. "Stu." Billy said in a warning tone.

You took a step back and swallowed thickly. Your breathing picked up.

"You smell so sweet and it's driving me insane." Stu said and you gave him a confused stare. What did he mean by that? "And you know what? I don't care anymore." He continued and his eyes turned completely black. You gasped at the sight. Confusion was the only thing going through your head. Fear, but intrigue at the same time. Stu bit his lower lip before smiling, and there it was. Fangs. "What the fu-" you attempted to run but Billy held you from behind, moving you quickly so you ended up behind him. He was shielding you with his large frame. "Stu, for the love of fuck, get ahold of yourself!" the boy said and you held his arm from behind. "Does he want to kill me?" You asked and he turned around quickly. Stu seemed to calm down when he heard your words. "No baby, we would never hurt you. He just-" Billy paused and looked at Stu over his shoulder before meeting your eyes. "Wants to taste you... Your blood." You looked at him with curiosity in your eyes. What would it be like to be bitten by a vampire? "Would you guys... Kill me if I let you?" You asked and Billy's pupils instantly dilated, his eyes turning completely black just like Stu's. The fear you felt mixed with excitement. You felt an energy shift with them like this. Wild and ready to pounce. It was risky. It was crazy, and you wanted it.

"Taste me." You said, and that was it.

Stu walked towards you and picked you up, his big hands around your waist. He sat you on the counter and stood between your legs. He could smell your arousal mixed with the blood between your legs and groaned. "Finally." He whispered and moved your head to the side softly. You bit your lip and prepared for the unknown pain you were about to experience.

Stu licked and kissed your neck a few times before digging his fangs in your flesh. You released a high pitched moan. The pain was pleasurable. You felt your blood run down your neck and over your chest.

Billy was leaning against the counter close to the both of you. A smirk on his face and his cock impossibly hard against his jeans. The sight of Stu savoring you excited him more than he thought it would. He bit his lip and hissed, his fangs fully displayed with the action.

Stu took the sweater off your body, exposing your bloody tits to both of them and Billy couldn't take it anymore. He walked towards you and Stu moved to the side, opening your legs more so Billy could be in front of you as well. He took another bite below Stu's mark and groaned at your taste. He licked the stripe of blood that ran down your chest and moaned. Stu joined him and lapped at the fluid as well. Their tongues touched occasionally against your skin and you were going insane. You moaned and whined at the sight of your vampire boyfriends tasting you.

Billy desperately took your underwear off and tossed them somewhere on the kitchen floor. He inhaled sharply and moaned at your scent. Stu slid down between your legs under Billy and licked your bloody cunt. Billy kissed you desperately as the boy between your legs moaned against your center.

You were tasting yourself on Billy's tongue, a metallic and somewhat sweet flavor palette. You were so turned on that you didn't even care about the fact that you were practically consuming your own blood from your boyfriends mouth.

Stu dipped his long tongue inside you and you arched your back at the feeling. Billy couldn't handle not being between your legs eating you up so he slid down your body and positioned himself next to Stu. They both licked your clit and savored your cunt like it was their last meal. The sight of them touching tongues while pleasuring you was enough to send you over the edge. You came the hardest you've ever experienced. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming that another mini orgasm washed over your body right after. You were practically screaming at that point but they weren't done with you yet.

Both of them stood up and pulled you down from the counter by your legs. You crashed against Billy and he pinned you against the fridge. He kissed you with passion and rubbed your clit a few times before finger fucking you. "Fuck, fuck... Please! Just fuck me already!" You moaned and he unbuttoned his jeans quickly, picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his torso and he spun around, leaning against the fridge. You felt Stu grab your waist to keep you steady while he unbuttoned his pants. Suddenly, Billy slipped inside you all the way in. The lubrication your blood provided created the perfect slide and the pleasure was intense as well. Billy started thrusting at a steady pace and moaned in your ear while he held you close.

Stu inserted his cock inside you a few minutes later after making sure you were stretched enough for him. Your boyfriends filled your hole deliciously and your moans filled the room. There was blood and arousal running down your thighs. You were a mess and felt like you were going to pass out any moment from the loss of blood and the intense pleasure you were receiving.

Billy and Stu lapped at the blood dripping down from your neck once again and moaned in unison. They couldn't handle it anymore and came inside you, filling you up with their seed. They rode their highs inside you before pulling out. Stu released you and you leaned against Billy.

"You okay?" Billy asked, his voice husky against your ear. You let out a breathy laugh and bit your lower lip. "I need a shower" You replied, energy drained from your body.

"Let's go." Billy whispered and Stu carried you up the stairs.

[riboism]

haunted ═╬ act I: the arrival

♱ content tags: centuries old vampire! seonghwa x fem reader, vampire au, gothic romance, gothic horror, story takes place circa early 1900s, reincarnation, smut, angst, forbidden love, slowburn, lots of yearning, no happy ending, blood, satanism, animal cruelty, nosferatu/bram stroker’s dracula/edward scissorhands vibes

♱ wordcount: 5.2k

↳ series masterlist

A wave of relief swept over you as the crisp, refreshing breeze of late October kissed your cheeks. The train ride to Cromer Ridge had been a seemingly endless ordeal—stuffy, suffocating, and filled with doubts that gnawed at your tenacity. Every mile of the journey was shadowed by second-guessing and an almost unbearable longing to turn back. Yet, deep down, you knew there was no returning to the life you had left behind. Starting over was daunting, the weight of the unknown pressing heavily on your spirit. But you also knew it was time to release the past, to embrace the opportunity for renewal. Though your unfamiliar surroundings felt discouraging, you steeled yourself to take the first step forward.

Your first task upon arriving at your new home was clear: find a job. The urgency of the times was palpable, and the job board near the platform was already surrounded by a crowd of weary, determined faces.

A sigh escaped you as your shoulders slumped in quiet defeat. The list of available positions read like a declaration of exclusion. Coal miner. Machinist. Bricklayer. Though the words “No women inquirers” weren’t printed, the message was clear. And who would hire you anyway? You were a woman, expected to secure financial stability through marriage—or, if desperation struck, by selling yourself in ways too degrading to voice. Your only skills were the domestic trifecta of sewing, cooking, and cleaning—skills instilled in you by a mother who saw no greater purpose than preparing you for marriage, a means to lighten the financial burden of an unwanted daughter.

Just as hopelessness began to settle in, something caught your eye. At the far end of the board, a single yellowed flyer flapped in the breeze, its ink faded and edges curling. It seemed forgotten, avoided even, as the crowd conspicuously steered clear of that corner. Curious, you stepped closer, your heart inexplicably quickening. The faded words were difficult to make out, but you pieced them together as best you could:

Live-in housekeeper needed. Inquire at the Park Estate.

⸺

“Excuse me, sir, can you tell me how to get to the Park Estate?”

The lively chatter and rhythmic clinking of shot glasses halted. One by one, the tavern’s patrons turned their attention toward you, their eyes narrowing with suspicion. The bartender froze mid-motion, his dishrag suspended above the bar as he gawked at the wide-eyed newcomer who had dared to ask such a question.

“What business do you have there?” he asked, his voice laced with thinly veiled disgust.

“I’m inquiring about a position there,” you replied, the words tumbling out sheepishly as the weight of the room’s gaze settled on you. “The one posted at the rail.”

A ripple of murmurs coursed through the crowd.

“Someone really oughta take that flyer down.”

“I heard that’s how he gets his victims—lures them up there with promises of work, then poof, they’re never seen again!”

“You know, he harvests human limbs for the black market! That’s how he keeps that eyesore of a castle funded.”

“Did you hear what the butcher’s wife said? She swears she saw Count Park skulking around town weeks ago, creeping like a ghost!”

“No way. He wouldn’t dare come down here. He knows he’s unwelcome. That’s why he stays up there, feasting on stray cats and whatever he can find.”

The whispers swirled, growing darker with every utterance. The stories painted a picture of a man—or perhaps a creature—that was nothing short of monstrous. The rumors about Count Park were wild and fantastical, their macabre details echoing the haunting bedtime tales your grandmother once told of strange creatures lurking in the shadows, snatching disobedient children to devour.

The bartender hesitated, his brow furrowed. You didn’t know it then, but you’d made a mistake by asking about what the townsfolk referred to as the “Dead End of Cromer Ridge.”  Park Estate was no ordinary home; it was a brooding castle perched on the edge of town, shrouded in mystery and whispered fear. No one dared to venture close, and few could even confirm whether Count Park was still alive. Some said he’d gone mad with grief after the death of his wife, his isolation breeding festering darkness. Others insisted he had dabbled in Satanic rituals, turning himself into a vampire—a bloodthirsty creature doomed to stalk the night.

Every tale was more grotesque than the last, but one truth remained constant: the very mention of his estate sent a chill down the spines of the townsfolk.

After a long pause, the bartender finally relented. “Straight down, take a left at the old sign, and head west. It’s a steep climb—I doubt it’ll be easy to make it up there.”

You murmured your thanks and quickly exited, trying not to let the hushed gossip of the patrons unsettle you. But as you stepped into the cold evening, a sense of unease lingered. The townspeople weren’t just unfriendly—they seemed haunted, consumed by fear of the Count. And their fear had a way of clinging to you, no matter how hard you tried to shake it off.

⸺

The bartender hadn’t exaggerated—the hill was brutal. Each step felt heavier than the last, your calves burning as fatigue clawed its way into your limbs. The path grew darker with every stride, the last rays of sunlight vanishing beneath the horizon, leaving only the oppressive gloom of night. In the distance, the castle loomed, stark and unwelcoming against the dusky sky. Its jagged silhouette seemed carved from shadow, a brooding presence that radiated unease.

As you drew closer, doubt began to fester. A small voice in your mind whispered to turn back, to abandon this unsettling journey. Something about the air felt off—thick and heavy, as though it carried the weight of a hundred unspoken warnings. Perhaps the townsfolk’s sinister murmurs had worked their way into your head, or perhaps it was the creeping dread that came with nightfall. Yet, no matter how many reasons you found to retreat, one undeniable truth remained: you’d come too far to turn back.

The promise of a warm bed, of shelter from the biting chill, was enough to propel you forward. Where else could you go? Who else would take you in? Pushing your unease aside, you pressed on, even as every instinct screamed otherwise.

The moment your foot touched the porch, an icy shiver raced down your spine. The boards groaned beneath your weight, the sound sharp and accusatory in the oppressive silence. The castle’s windows were boarded up, their blackened edges like gaping scars. The wind howled through unseen cracks, coaxing eerie creaks and groans from the ancient structure, as though it were alive and watching. The bushes lining the walkway were disturbingly pristine, their neatness at odds with the house’s decayed and foreboding aura. If not for their immaculate care, you might have thought the place was abandoned.

Your breath hitched as you reached for the door. The metal hoop of the knocker was freezing against your palm, and for a moment, you hesitated, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. With a trembling hand, you lifted it and knocked, the sound reverberating through the still night like the toll of a bell. A death bell, perhaps. 

You stood there, waiting. Seconds stretched into an eternity, the silence amplifying every stray sound—the rustling of leaves, the creaking of old wood, the faint whisper of the wind. Your nerves began to fray, and just as you were about to knock again, a sudden noise made you whip around.

A crow landed on the railing with a thud, its black eyes glinting like polished onyx. It tilted its head, staring at you with an unnerving intensity, as though it were delivering a silent warning: Turn back. Leave now.

But you couldn’t. It was too late. The journey here had already cost you too much, and the thought of retreating to nothing—a cold, inhospitable town, a life of uncertainty—kept your feet rooted in place. Even as dread coiled tighter around your heart, you remained, the weight of your decision pressing heavier than ever.

You jolted as the grand doors creaked open, the deep, groaning sound echoing in the stillness. The noise rooted you to the spot, your pulse hammering in your ears. Until this moment, you hadn’t stopped to consider who would be behind the door. What sort of person lived in a place like this? Why was he so hated? What if the rumors were true—what if he was dangerous?

Your imagination conjured a monster—sharp yellow teeth bared in a sinister grin, hollow eyes that seemed to pierce the soul, leathery, pale skin stretched tight over angular bones. His voice would be guttural and broken, a sound that carried only misfortune and dread. You sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for this creature to appear.

But the door stopped after only opening slightly, leaving just a sliver of darkness visible beyond. No figure emerged, no silhouette loomed. Silence followed, heavy and expectant.

“Hello?” you called, your voice trembling.

There was no response. You hesitated, glancing back down the shadowy path you’d climbed. The idea of retracing that perilous journey in the dead of night frightened you. Desperation flared within you, pushing you to speak again.

“I saw your ad on the job board. For a housekeeper? I’m sorry to disturb you so late,” you began, the words spilling out quickly. “I-Is the position still open? I’ve been cooking and cleaning all my life. I can stitch a warm coat in two days, and hats, gloves, and scarves in less than one. I noticed your bushes—they’re well cared for. I know a lot about gardening; my father taught me—”

The door suddenly widened, cutting off your nervous rambling. A rush of frigid air spilled out, carrying with it the faint scent of damp wood and aged stone. You hesitated, then stepped inside, expecting warmth to greet you. But instead, the chill intensified, the air biting at your skin like icy needles.

The man who had opened the door had vanished, his presence already dissolved into the shadows. The heavy doors groaned as you pushed them closed, their weight demanding your full effort.

Turning back around, you finally took in the house. In the dim flicker of candlelight, the interior revealed itself in pieces, like a dream shifting into focus. The grand entryway was vast, yet suffocating, the kind of place that seemed to watch you back. The floor was a checkered sea of black and white marble, cracked in places and dulled by time. A massive staircase dominated the space, its dark oak banister coiled like a serpent rising toward the upper floors. The air smelled faintly of wax and mildew.

Dust clung to every surface, turning once beautiful furniture into ghostly relics. A cracked mirror hung crookedly on the far wall, its gilded frame tarnished and webbed with cobwebs. A dark red, velvety tapestry drooped sadly from its mount, its colors faded and threads unraveling. Scattered across a long wooden table were odd, forgotten items: loose buttons, dried ink bottles, and what appeared to be a single leather glove, stiffened with age. Despite the grandeur, the house felt as though it had been abandoned to the passage of time, its opulence rotting away in quiet decay.

You held your chest tightly, your pulse quickening as you tried to quell the unease clawing at you.

“Eighteen dollars a month.”

The voice came from above, low and rich like the stroke of velvet against bare skin. It was smooth, refined, and utterly at odds with the house and its rumors. You snapped your head up, your eyes darting toward the staircase.

There he was. A figure stood at the top of the stairs, his silhouette cloaked in the shadows. He was too far away to make out clearly, his back turned to you as he rested one hand lightly on the banister.

“You start tomorrow,” the voice continued, steady and composed, though tinged with something you couldn’t name. “Do not wake me. Your quarters are down the hall to your left.”

With that, he was gone, disappearing into the upper darkness as quickly and silently as he’d appeared.

You stood there, rooted in place, the chill of the house seeping into your very bones. The unexpected smoothness of his voice lingered in your mind, disarming in its elegance. And yet, it wasn’t enough to shake the oppressive weight of the home, with its decayed grandeur and shadows that seemed to shift when you weren’t looking.

Your quarters, tucked away at the far end of the hall, were modest compared to the rest of the house—but that was to be expected for the help, you supposed. The space was sparse yet functional, its simplicity offering a quiet reprieve from the unsettling grandeur outside its door.

A soft white bed stood against the wall, its quilt worn but clean, promising a much-needed rest for your aching body. Beside it, a small desk sat neatly, complete with an oil lamp and a sheaf of blank paper, an unspoken invitation to write letters you weren’t sure would ever reach anyone. A large armoire dominated the opposite corner, its dark wood polished to an eerie sheen, its brass handles shaped like twisting vines. Though you had packed light, the armoire’s cavernous emptiness made your belongings seem smaller still.

You settled into the room cautiously, smoothing your hand over the quilt as you perched on the edge of the bed. Despite its simplicity, the room felt...off. Perhaps it was the silence that hung so heavily in the air or the faint chill that lingered, despite the walls being thick and the windows shut tight.

Your mind churned as you tried to make sense of everything—the decayed opulence of the house, the cryptic demeanor of the Count, and the strange, fearful gossip that followed his name. What kind of man was he, truly? You realized with a sinking feeling that you still had no idea what he even looked like. The thought nagged at you, stirring up an unease that clung to the edges of your thoughts like cobwebs.

The strangeness of it all—the place, the person, the situation—was unnerving, and yet, there was a small part of you that whispered it was too late to turn back now. The journey had been long and unforgiving, and there was no guarantee of shelter if you left.

Your body, however, had little patience for your anxious mind. The weight of the day bore down on you, and your fatigue eventually overpowered your worries. You stretched out on the bed, its softness wrapping around you like a cocoon. As your eyes fluttered closed, the strangeness of the house loomed over you, lingering in your thoughts like a shadow.

But soon, the stillness of sleep claimed you and the unsettling mysteries of your new life were left to haunt the night.

⸺

You awoke just as the first rays of dawn slipped through the cracks in the heavy curtains, casting faint golden streaks across the room. To your surprise, you felt well-rested, the ache of yesterday’s journey soothed by the quiet stillness of the night. The house, with all its looming shadows and unsettling whispers, had not disturbed your sleep.

Sitting up slowly, you stretched your arms overhead, feeling the stiffness melt from your shoulders. A yawn escaped your lips as you rubbed the lingering drowsiness from your eyes, the warmth of the quilt still clinging to your skin. For a brief moment, the morning felt almost normal—peaceful, even.

But as your feet touched the cold floor, that fleeting comfort dissolved. The air in the room was still and heavy as if the house itself had been holding its breath while you slept. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been watching, waiting.

Shaking off the thought, you steeled yourself for the day ahead. Whatever the peculiarities of this house or its master, you had work to do.

In the cold kitchen, you set the tea kettle over the fire, the soft crackle of the flames breaking the otherwise oppressive silence. As you watched the water begin to simmer, a thought crept into your mind: should you prepare a cup for the Count? It seemed polite, perhaps even expected, but then you remembered his firm instruction not to wake him.

Maybe he simply valued his solitude—or his sleep. You could understand that; mornings were a sanctuary for some. Still, the uncertainty of your role gnawed at you. What kind of man didn’t even outline what he wanted from his housekeeper? You glanced at the kettle again, steam curling lazily toward the ceiling.

You reassured yourself that time would bring clarity. By nightfall, surely, you would understand his routine and expectations. For now, you took comfort in the steady rhythm of small tasks, grounding yourself in the familiar while the unfamiliar loomed just beyond your reach.

As you moved around the kitchen, its grandeur dulled by the thick coat of dust, the scale of your work became painfully clear. The counters, once polished to a gleaming finish, were now layered with grime. A tower of mismatched dishes teetered precariously in the sink, their surfaces streaked with stains that told of long-neglected meals. The pantry was nearly bare—just a few stale loaves of bread, an old jar of jam, and some long-forgotten tins tucked into the corners.

You sighed, shaking your head as you rummaged through the cabinets. At least there were some spare biscuits, and with the tea brewing steadily, you’d make do for now. A trip to town for supplies seemed inevitable, though the thought of braving the peculiar townsfolk again didn’t thrill you.

After nibbling on the dry biscuits and sipping the hot tea, you wandered through the halls, taking in your new surroundings. Even as the sun’s rays peeked over the horizon, the house remained shrouded in shadows. The wooden panels nailed over the windows blocked most of the light, forcing you to rely on the flickering glow of the few lit candles. The air felt thick and heavy, the faint scent of mildew lingering in the corners.

The living room, if you could call it that, was a chaos of clutter. Melted candle wax had pooled and hardened on the floorboards, books lay scattered across the furniture, and a once-elegant rug was curled at the edges, its patterns obscured by dust. A broken clock leaned precariously against a wall, its glass face cracked and the hands forever frozen in time.

You crouched down to scrape some of the hardened wax from the floor, the task already feeling endless. A sigh escaped your lips. Yes, there was much work to be done—more than you had expected.

But as daunting as it seemed, you reminded yourself of the warmth and security that this place, for all its strangeness, provided. Rolling up your sleeves, you resolved to tackle the disarray piece by piece, determined to bring some semblance of order to the house. Whatever secrets this place held, at least you’d have the satisfaction of a clean floor beneath your feet.

⸺

The afternoon had slipped away, and your work felt far from done. The kitchen and dining room had consumed the better part of the day, leaving your back aching and your hands stiff. The thought of tackling the grand living room and foyer loomed over you like a heavy cloud. You’d been busy with the senseless tasks of cleaning and reorganizing, but there were still errands to run. The idea of facing more work in the house was enough to make you pause. 

You slipped into your warm coat, wrapped a scarf tightly around your head, and stood at the door, pausing for a moment. You glanced up the staircase, half-expecting to see a glimpse of your master. But there was only silence. No movement, no sign of him. Perhaps he was still asleep. 

With a loud sigh, you grabbed your purse and stepped out into the chilly air, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders. The path down to town felt long, but it was a welcome distraction from the house and the work that awaited you when you returned.

The journey down the hill felt longer today, your never-ending thoughts slowing your steps. You passed the same familiar buildings, the same curious eyes peering at you from behind the small shops and homes, but today, there was a different sort of tension in the air. You knew the townsfolk still whispered behind your back, their words like echoes of a story you couldn’t quite grasp. You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the task at hand: groceries. Yet, their comments continued to swirl in your mind.

“Don’t meet her eyes, she carries his curse within her,” one of the shopkeepers muttered under her breath to a customer as you walked past. You caught only fragments of their conversation, but the few words you did hear made you shudder in place. 

Their whispers were distinct—filled with warnings, judgments, and fear. It was as if the townspeople saw you as a shadow of the Count, carrying with you a dark energy that left them uneasy in your presence. Their words wrapped around you like a curse, as though you, too, were tainted by something malevolent. They spoke of you as if you were a mirror of the Count’s darkness, forcing them to avert their eyes and steer clear of your path altogether.

You pushed yourself forward, determined to finish your task. The items you needed weren’t difficult to gather, but the weight of their gaze made everything feel heavier. You hurried, and by the time you reached the shop’s counter, you realized you had forgotten a few things, the very basics that had slipped from your mind in the rush of the day.

With a sigh, you made your way back to the estate, the basket of groceries now even more cumbersome. The long hill back up to the house made your legs ache, but it wasn’t just your body that felt worn—your mind too felt numb, with feelings of anxiety and uncertainty making it impossible to think about what to do for dinner. 

When you returned, the sun was already making its way down, and the house was as silent as before. You set the groceries down in the kitchen, eyes wandering over the untouched spaces, the dust that still lingered.

You quickly got to work, preparing a simple dinner for yourself and your master. The faint smell of burning wood and the steady crackle of the fire filled the air, offering you little comfort as you set the table for one. The clink of the dishes was the loudest sound in the room, your own heartbeat keeping time with each dish you placed.

As you adjusted the final details on the table, you heard the soft creak of the door. The flames flickered unexpectedly, casting dancing shadows across the room. A chill swept over you, settling in the pit of your stomach as the temperature seemed to drop with his arrival.

You turned, and there he stood, filling the doorway with a presence so striking it almost stole your breath. His gaze locked onto you, and the cold that had crept in from the draft seemed to melt away, replaced by something much warmer—an almost familiar tension that pulled at your chest, making it harder to breathe.

He wasn’t what you had expected. His appearance was nothing like the monster the townspeople had whispered about. There were no signs of age or decay, only ethereal beauty—as if he was sculpted by some divine hand. His skin was pale, smooth like porcelain, with a soft glow that seemed to catch the dim light from the candles. His dark, glossy eyes were like deep pools, glinting with a mystery that held your gaze far longer than you intended. His perfectly sculpted cheekbones added to the sharpness of his face, giving him a sense of quiet nobility, yet there was something undeniably otherworldly about him.

He lingered at the doorway for a moment, his eyes scanning the room before settling on you. His expression was unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes—shock, maybe, as though he hadn’t expected you to be there. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying you, and the weight of his gaze made your shoulders tense. Your fingers found the hem of your apron, fidgeting as you tried not to squirm under his scrutiny.

Then, almost imperceptibly, he seemed to catch himself. His posture straightened, and his expression softened, the sharpness of his gaze retreating behind a veil of composure, as though he’d realized he might have given too much of himself away.

Your heart pounded as you thought of what to say. Gathering your courage, you managed a small, polite smile. "Good evening, sir," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I—I prepared some soup and fresh bread. I thought it might be to your liking."

He approached you slowly, each measured step echoing in the room, the sound of his heels against the wooden floor making your chest tighten with anticipation. As he drew nearer, the air seemed to shift, heavier with every step. Just as he reached your side, he stopped abruptly, his gaze dropping to the dinner you had so carefully prepared.

"Thank you," he said, his voice smooth and velvety, resonating like a soft hum that seemed to linger in the stillness. There was a pause before his eyes flicked back to you, and his next words came softly but firmly. "What is your name?"

The weight of his presence pressed against you, and your nerves heightened as you whispered, “Y/N, sir…” You kept your voice low, unsure whether to meet his gaze or keep your eyes lowered. The tension prickled at the back of your neck, your hands clasping tightly before you.

He didn’t sit immediately but instead lingered at the head of the table, his long fingers idly tracing the wood of the chair. When he finally spoke, his voice was commanding yet smooth, every word material.

“I apologize for meeting you so late,” he began, his dark eyes briefly glancing at you before settling on the untouched bowl before him. “I work well into the night and, as such, must sleep during the day.” His tone carried authority, leaving no room for argument.

He picked up the spoon, stirring the soup languidly, the movement unnervingly slow. “You’ve done well so far,” he remarked, the faintest trace of approval in his words. “The dining room is spotless. It has been far too long since I dined in here. My work consumes my time, leaving my poor estate neglected.” He paused, his gaze sharpening as it flicked back to you. “Cleanliness is paramount. My work demands focus, and I will not tolerate distractions. I trust you will uphold these expectations.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hope to please you and exceed your standards.”

His jaw tightened subtly, and for a moment, you worried you had misspoken. But he continued, his tone precise. “As I said, I cannot tolerate distractions. You are not to enter my workspace or my chambers. The entire upstairs is off-limits. There are valuables there that require privacy and care.” He hesitated briefly, his mouth parted slightly as he struggled to find the right words. “There is little up there that requires your attention.”

The restriction struck you as strange, but you nodded. “Understood, sir.”

“Your duties,” he continued, his tone crisp, “include daily cleaning, maintaining the estate grounds, and running errands in town as needed. For groceries and supplies, bring back receipts, and I will reimburse you with your pay.” He paused, his voice growing softer but no less firm. “There are also a few rules you must follow.”

“Yes, sir?” You straightened slightly, bracing yourself.

“Firstly,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “I am not to be disturbed during the day. My rest is crucial, and interruptions will not be tolerated unless it is a matter of life or death.”

“Yes, sir,” you said quickly, nodding.

“Second…” He cleared his throat, “Do not touch the wooden planks. The windows are boarded up due to a previous mishap, and unfortunately, there aren’t many architects nearby to fix it.”

“I won’t, sir.”

“And finally,” his voice dropped lower, carrying an ominous edge, “do not venture outside after sunset. The forest is dangerous—predators prowl in the dark. You would do well to heed my warning.”

A chill coursed through you at the severity of his words, the weight of his warning making it clear he meant every syllable. “I understand,” you murmured.

He gestured toward the table before finally lowering himself into the chair. “You’ve done well today,” he said, adjusting the napkin in his lap with methodical care. “I trust you’ll continue to prove yourself capable.”

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, your voice steady despite the unease curling in your chest.

He picked up the spoon again, swirling the soup without taking a bite. The hesitation made you anxious—had you made the wrong choice of meal? Your mind raced back to the town, chastising yourself for forgetting to stop at the butcher. You watched as the vegetables spun lazily in the broth, but his expression remained impassive.

“That will be all for tonight,” he said abruptly, his tone cool. He set the spoon down, folding his hands over the edge of the table. “You may take your dinner to your quarters.”

“Goodnight, sir.” You nodded, retreating with careful steps, the weight of his presence lingering long after you exited the room.

⸺

You eased your tired body onto the mattress, but sleep eluded you. The encounter with the Count played over and over in your mind, every word, every glance dissected in the stillness of your room. There was something peculiar about him—his aloofness, the subtle weight in his voice, the way he seemed to measure his every movement.

What exactly did he do? He hadn’t mentioned it, though whatever it was must be lucrative, given the grandeur of the estate. Yet, that same home felt hollow, like a gilded cage rather than a place of comfort.

Your thoughts wandered to his appearance—so striking, so unexpected. He was undeniably beautiful. How could someone so captivating hide away in such a bleak and isolated castle, so far removed from the rest of the world? And why was someone who seemed so young living alone in such a vast and lonely estate? Where was his family?

And then there was that look he gave you—just for a fleeting moment, but enough to unsettle you. It was as though he was disappointed upon seeing you, his dark eyes carrying a strange mixture of pain and defeat. You couldn’t name it precisely, but it lingered in your mind, an odd tension you couldn’t shake.

Everything about him was odd—the house, his demeanor, his rules. And yet, there was something magnetic about him that kept your thoughts tethered to him, even as your body begged for rest. It would be no surprise if you dreamed of him too. His image lingered in your mind like a shadow cast by moonlight—too vivid to ignore, too enigmatic to understand. You closed your eyes, trying to banish the thoughts, but his face remained, carved into the fabric of your imagination as you fell deeper into sleep. 

taglist: @a1sh1teruu @filmnings @professormingisglasses @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @yunyunrin-reads @seonghwasstar @innocygnet

for taglist request or removal, please send me an ask

act II: the count ➜

[drunken-devotion]

my les mis fan fic recommendations :3

these are all my fav les mis fics that i wanna share!! most of it is between enjoltaire or jehanparnasse (though there is other ships too), definitely make sure to check out any warnings but i would recommend all of these!! i love them a lot <3

if any authors want to be untagged lmk!

It’s Not The Same Anymore - Enjolras/Grantaire | 173k words | my all time favourite fic out of any fandom i’ve read, it’s so so sweet <3 i reread it this a lot and recommend it everywhere LOL. i love everything about this fic!!!! | author -> @shamedumpster

Of Growth And Decay - Montparnasse/Jehan | 27k words | hades x persephone au | absolutely adore this fic i think about it so much <33 i reread this so often as well!! jehanparnasse being compared to hades/persephone is my favourite thing ever | author -> @just-french-me-up

Le Conte de Café - Montparnasse/Jehan | 45k words | faerie jehan owns a lil cafe <3 soso sweet i love it !! | author -> @mysunfreckle

Liberté, Egalité, Demi-plié - Enjolras/Grantaire | 71k words | ballet au!!! i love the concept of this fic a lot it was so interesting!! ballet au’s have my heart | author -> @darrenjolras

The Bug Collector - Combeferre/Enjolras | 812 words | can i just talk about how much i love everything stevie writes? perfect every time. ly @thatisntverycombefair

[series] At The Shrine Of Friendship Never Say Die - collection of sick!one shots surrounding the triumvirate

Even If There Are Monsters - Cosette/Marius | Enjolras/Grantaire | 38k words | DRACULA AU. i’m so obsessed with this. 2 of my biggest interests mixed i love it <333 | author -> @syrupsyche

Geraniums - Enjolras/Grantaire/Combeferre | 3k words | lil flower shop au <3 | author -> @putoriius

I’ve Seen Sinking Ships Go Down With More Grace Than You - Combeferre/Courfeyrac | 25k words | courfeyrac gets temporary amnesia. chaos ensues! i love this fic a lot

Beyond Time And Possibility - Enjolras/Grantaire | 16k words | when i say this fic lingers in the back of my mind constantly I MEAN IT. enjoltaire sort of time travel au with canon era enjolras x modern grantaire. the ending ruined me. | author -> @bittersweet-skylines

Beautiful & Good - Enjolras/Grantaire | 200k words | this was the first les mis fic i ever read!!!! i love it so so so much. i love the writing of this so much & the ending <333 so so good. | author -> @riotstarruika

Oillet Rouge - Montparnasse/Jehan | 4k words | canon era unrequited jehanparnasse . this made me cry and i haven’t stopped thinking about it since i read it </3

The Two Sides Of Monsieur Valentine - Montparnasse/Jehan | 5k words | one of the first fics i read of these two and it’s stuck with me i love it so much <33 | author -> @television-bodies

Oh It’s What You Do To Me - Enjolras/Grantaire | 7k words | long distance exr <3

16 Lies And Counting - Montparnasse/Jehan | 85k words | UGHHHHHH i love this fic so much. another one by sunfreckle and let me say, all of their fics are honestly so so good. i had to really hold back from not putting more

Everything Changes - Cosette/Marius | 1.1k words | cute lil marisette story <3

Magical Museums - 648 words | short natm au where feuilly works at a museum!!! i love it. i am obsessed with this concept as well

Something Telling (Between Then And Now) - Enjolras/Grantaire | 99k words | time travel au! canon era enjolras is transported to the future with modern era grantaire!! love this one. | author -> @dannypuro

Demiromantic - Montparnasse/Jehan | 1.7k words | i project heavily onto jehan & believe he’s demi so seeing this made me sob. i love it so much <3 it’s so cute

[differentpostrebel]

Queen of the Night

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

Word Count: 8.5K

Sanji x y/n, Platonic frienship with Usopp.

CW: Smut, teasing, MINORS DNI… 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Usopp, what are you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was close,” you panted, breathless as you stumbled into the vehicle, the weight of the night's chaos crashing down around you.

As Usopp fumbled with the keys, you glanced back at the mansion. Shadows flickered in the windows, and you could have sworn you saw Sanji watching you, his expression a mix of annoyance and something darker—something that sent shivers down your spine.

“Come on, come on!” Usopp urged, finally starting the engine. The car sputtered but roared to life, and with a screech of tires, you sped away from the haunted mansion, leaving behind the nightmares that threatened to consume you both.

“Did we really just escape from a vampire?” you gasped, still trying to process everything that had just happened.

Usopp glanced at you, his eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m not sure what that was, but I’m pretty sure that was the craziest night of my life!”

As the lights of the mansion faded in the rearview mirror, a lingering sense of unease settled in your stomach. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Sanji would come for you again, and that his desire for you was far from over. A few minutes passed, and you finally made it to your backyard.

“Okay, Usopp, you go. I’ll stay home,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“What if Sanji comes back?” Usopp replied, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry; I’ll carry one of these!” you said, breaking Usopp’s garlic necklace in half and holding a piece tightly. “We just gotta survive the night.”

With a quick hug, Usopp climbed into the car and drove away, leaving you alone in the darkness. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door using the key hidden under the mat and quietly tiptoed inside. You rushed to your room, locking the door behind you and securing the windows.

“Finally safe at last,” you sighed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You grabbed a fresh towel and clean clothes to shower, eager to wash away the night’s horrors. As you removed your clothes and heels, you wrapped a soft robe around yourself and waited for the water to heat up.

Just as the steam began to fill the bathroom, a familiar voice broke the silence. “You know, there’s always a way to get in,” he said, causing you to freeze and turn slowly. There, lounging casually on your bed, was Sanji, still shirtless and looking utterly at ease.

“Stay back!” you warned, holding up the piece of garlic as your heart raced.

He laughed, a low, menacing sound that sent chills down your spine. In a flash, he gripped your wrist, causing you to drop the garlic. “What do you want…” you whispered, fear creeping into your voice.

“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, stepping closer. “What I want is you, my dear. Let me show you just how much I can make a convincing case.” His voice dripped with seduction, making your heart pound harder against your chest.

In a panic, you kicked at him, catching him off guard. He stumbled back just enough for you to dart toward the bathroom. But his grip was too strong; he followed you, and before you knew it, he had the door open, blocking your escape.

You stepped back, feeling yourself hit the tub, the warm water cascading over your robe and soaking into the fabric. Sanji stepped in too, letting the water pour over him, his blonde hair slicking back and accentuating the sharpness of his features. His fangs peeked from his lips, and his blue ocean eyes darkened to a deeper hue, filled with an unsettling intensity.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to block him out, but his presence was overwhelming.

“I said look at me!” he growled, his voice low and almost feral. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, and the moment your gazes locked, you felt as if you had been ensnared in his spell, unable to look away.

“Tonight you are mine, and you will become my bride,” he whispered, his voice sultry and enticing. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your neck that sent shockwaves of desire coursing through your body, causing you to gasp and moan despite yourself.

With each passing second, your body felt as though it were succumbing to his control. Sanji’s hands roamed everywhere, exploring the curves of your body beneath the soaked robe. “Sanji…” you whispered, torn between fear and the intoxicating thrill of his touch.

The water continued to fall over both of you, creating a cocoon of warmth and intimacy that blurred the lines of danger and desire. His fingers deftly undid the ties of your robe, discarding the fabric and letting it fall away, leaving you exposed to the warmth of the water and the heat radiating from his body.

Your heart raced, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. “What are you doing?” you breathed, trying to regain some semblance of control, but his gaze held you captive.

“I’m showing you what you truly desire,” he said softly, brushing his lips against your shoulder, trailing kisses down your arm. Every touch sent a spark through your skin, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't ignore.

His fingers danced along your waist, teasingly light, before dipping lower to explore the curves of your hips. “You’re trembling, Y/N,” he murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Is it from fear… or anticipation?”

You shivered at the sound of his voice, the way it rolled over you like a wave, tempting and dangerous. “Sanji…” you breathed, feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated. His teasing touch ignited something deep within, and despite the danger, you found yourself leaning into him, craving more of his intoxicating presence.

He caught your chin, tilting your face to meet his gaze. “You can’t hide from me, sweetheart. I can feel your heartbeat quicken,” he taunted, his breath hot against your lips. “Admit it, you want this as much as I do.”

With every word, he closed the distance between you, his lips ghosting over yours, a teasing brush that sent electricity shooting through your body. “Just one taste, my love,” he whispered, the promise in his voice making your pulse race. “I promise it will be delicious.”

The water swirled around you both, cascading in steamy droplets, and as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, the world outside faded away. “I can make you feel pleasure like you’ve never known,” he teased, his eyes darkening with desire. “But you have to surrender to me.”

The heat between you intensified, and the air was thick with anticipation as Sanji continued to tease you with his knee, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp with pleasure. Each gentle bounce sent waves of sensation coursing through your body, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

“Ah, ah, you need to surrender to me,” he taunted, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down your spine. His eyes, now a deep, smoldering blue, were locked onto yours, filled with a wild mixture of hunger and adoration. You could feel your resolve crumbling as he played you like a finely tuned instrument.

“God, Sanji,” you moaned, feeling the heat radiate from him and envelop you entirely. It was intoxicating, every movement, every touch drawing you closer to the edge. His knee pressed between your legs, creating an almost unbearable friction that made your breath hitch.

“Just imagine what I could do if you let me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, making you shiver. “One bite is all it takes…”

He placed peppered kisses along your neck, each gentle caress igniting fire beneath your skin. As his lips traveled lower, he nibbled with his fangs, causing you to gasp at the sensation. It was both thrilling and terrifying—the mix of pleasure and danger sending your mind into a whirl.

“Sanji, please,” you breathed, caught between wanting him closer and the fear of losing yourself completely in the moment.

“Please what?” he teased, his voice dripping with playful seduction. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head, desperation clawing at you. “No… I don’t want you to stop.”

“Good girl,” he purred, satisfaction glinting in his eyes as he pressed you firmly against the cool tiles. The juxtaposition of the cold surface against your heated skin heightened your senses, making you acutely aware of every little thing he did.

He resumed kissing along your neck, trailing down to your collarbone, his fangs grazing your skin just enough to send sparks of electricity through you. “Just surrender to me, Y/N,” he coaxed, his breath hot against your flesh. “Let me take you where you’ve never been before.”

You felt yourself giving in to the sensations, surrendering to the sweet, intoxicating pleasure he promised. With every teasing nibble and every slow, deliberate movement, Sanji wove a spell around you that made it impossible to think of anything but him.

“Tonight, you’re mine,” he whispered against your skin, the promise heavy with temptation. “And I won’t let you go until I’ve had my fill.”

His words wrapped around you like silk, and as he pressed against you, you realized you were ready to embrace whatever came next. The thrill of the unknown, mixed with the warmth of his body, was enough to drown out any lingering doubts.

“Take me, Sanji,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with need and anticipation.

“Now you’re speaking my language,” he grinned, the hunger in his eyes intensifying as he captured your lips once more, sealing your fate in a kiss that promised to lead you into a night of unparalleled passion.

As his lips crashed against yours, the world outside faded completely, leaving only the sound of the water cascading around you and the rapid beating of your hearts. Sanji's kiss was deep and consuming, igniting every nerve in your body as he pressed you further into the cool tiles of the bathroom.

“Are you ready?” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and sultry, laced with desire. You nodded, your heart racing in your chest. The thrill of surrendering to him sent delicious shivers down your spine.

“Good,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. He removed the remaing articles of clothing he wore, leaving him bare infront of you. His muscles and abs peaking deliciously. The darkness in his eyes shimmered with a predatory glint, the embodiment of everything you craved. With a playful smirk, he lifted you effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped deeper into the shower.

The warm water enveloped you both, cascading over your bodies, mixing with the heat radiating from Sanji. He held you close, his body pressed firmly against yours, and the sensation of your skin sliding against his ignited a fire within you.

“Let me show you how good it can feel,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He began to move slowly, rolling his hips against yours with a teasing rhythm, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Sanji…” you gasped, your head tipping back against the tiles as the water continued to pour over you. Every move he made was calculated, designed to elicit the maximum amount of pleasure from you. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, igniting every inch of your skin with a burning need.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he urged, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing and nibbling as he moved lower. “I want to hear you say it.”

You bit your lip, the tension building within you. “I want you,” you finally breathed, the words tumbling from your lips like a secret you had been holding onto for far too long.

“Then you shall have me,” he declared, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he took hold of your chin, tilting your head back to expose your neck. “Tonight, I’m going to make you mine in every way.”

His fangs grazed your skin again, teasingly close to breaking the surface. You could feel the excitement thrumming through you, mixed with a delicious hint of fear. But there was something intoxicating about the danger he presented, and the thrill only heightened your desire.

With one swift motion, he sank his teeth into your neck, a gentle bite that sent a shock of pleasure coursing through your veins. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming and euphoric as you felt the warm rush of blood leaving your body.

“Sanji!” you cried out, lost in the whirlwind of sensations. The world spun around you, and every part of you ached with need, urging him to take more.

He withdrew slightly, licking the spot he had bitten, his tongue soothing the sting while his eyes held yours captive. “Delicious,” he murmured, satisfaction evident in his voice. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

“More,” you urged, your voice barely a whisper, a plea for him to deepen the connection that was forming between you.

“Always, my love,” he replied, his lips curling into a wicked grin. He leaned in again, kissing you fiercely, his tongue dancing with yours as he pulled you closer. The water continued to cascade around you, the steam rising and enveloping you both in a haze of warmth and intimacy.

As he lifted you higher against the wall, your bodies moved in perfect harmony, the rhythm intensifying with each passing moment. The fire within you blazed brighter, consuming every thought until there was nothing but the two of you, tangled together in a heated embrace.

With each thrust of his hips, he pushed you closer to the edge, your body responding to his every movement. The sensation of his warm skin against yours, the way he filled you completely, was everything you had ever wanted.

“Look at you,” he said, breathless and awestruck. “So beautiful, so perfect for me.”

The intensity of his words sent shivers down your spine, and as he continued to move, you felt yourself teetering on the brink of ecstasy. With a final thrust, everything shattered around you, sending you spiraling into a wave of pure, unadulterated bliss.

"Sanji!" you cried out, the pleasure overwhelming you as you surrendered completely to the sensations, to him. He held you tight, his breath mingling with yours, and as the last ripples of pleasure coursed through you, he whispered softly against your ear, “Welcome to my world, Y/N. You’re mine now, and I’ll never let you go.”

Still enveloped in a pleasure-filled haze, a realization dawned on you, heavy and unsettling: you had succumbed to Sanji's trick. “You tricked me,” you said, the words barely a whisper as you grabbed your robe, wrapping it around your still-damp body before stepping out of the shower.

You rushed to the mirror, breathless and wide-eyed, desperately trying to see your reflection. Water dripped from your hair, cascading down your shoulders, but as you caught sight of your own image, you noticed something that made your heart race with fear and confusion. There, on your neck, was the faint mark of his bite—two delicate punctures surrounded by an almost ethereal glow.

“But you bit me...” you murmured, the reality of your situation crashing down on you. It felt surreal, the warmth of his presence still lingering on your skin, juxtaposed against the cold realization of what had just happened. You rubbed your neck gingerly, the mark pulsating slightly as if it were alive, a cruel reminder of the connection he had forged between you.

“Why, Sanji?” you asked, turning to face him, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and bewilderment. “What did you do to me?”

He leaned against the doorway, a devilish smirk playing on his lips, his blue eyes glinting with mischief and something darker. “I gave you a taste of what we could have together, Y/N. I wanted you to feel it, to understand the bond between us. And now, you’re part of me.”

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you—fear, anger, desire. “You can’t just take that from me!” you shot back, your heart racing. “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t want to be a part of your world!”

Sanji stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from playful to serious, his expression softening. “But you do want it, deep down. I can see it in your eyes, in the way your body responded to me. This was never just a trick, Y/N; it’s something deeper. You and I… we’re meant to be together.”

You shook your head, grappling with the conflicting feelings swirling inside you. “No, you manipulated me. This isn’t love; it’s a power play!”

His gaze hardened, but there was still a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “It’s not just power; it’s passion. You felt it. I know you did. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you now.”

“Protect me?” you echoed incredulously. “From what? You’re the one I need protection from!”

He took another step forward, the warmth radiating from him drawing you in against your better judgment. “You don’t understand the world I come from. There are dangers you can’t even begin to fathom. This mark signifies more than you think; it binds us, yes, but it also protects you. I’ll always be there to keep you safe.”

You wanted to believe him, but the trepidation in your heart held you back. “What does this mean for me? What have you done to my life?”

Sanji reached out, gently tilting your chin up so you met his gaze. “You’re stronger than you know, Y/N. I’ll teach you how to harness this. You can control it, but you have to trust me.”

His voice was low, a melodic caress that sent a shiver down your spine. The way he looked at you ignited a spark of longing, and despite your anger, you found yourself captivated. “You have to let me in,” he continued, his tone softening. “Together, we can navigate this new reality. I won’t let you go, and deep down, I think you don’t want me to.”

The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, a mix of fear and desire battling within you. Could you truly trust him? Or was this just the beginning of a darker journey? You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you searched for the words that would define your choice.

Before you could respond to Sanji's plea, the door swung open with a loud crash, and Usopp stormed in, clutching a small vial of shimmering liquid in his hand. “The power of this water compels you!” he shouted dramatically, splashing the contents at Sanji with a fervor that was both comedic and desperate.

The holy water hit Sanji with a splatter, causing him to hiss in surprise, his features twisting in annoyance. “What the hell, Usopp?” he exclaimed, stepping back and raising a hand to shield his face. The tension in the room was suddenly interrupted by the slap of water cascading from the shower, mingling with Usopp’s chaotic entrance.

You couldn't help but notice the relief that washed over you at Usopp's unexpected appearance, but your attention quickly shifted back to him when you noticed something alarming. “Usopp, your neck!” you cried out, pointing in horror at the unmistakable mark of another vampire bite, mirroring the one now etched on your own skin.

Usopp looked down, a bewildered expression crossing his face as he touched the puncture wounds, which were still fresh and glistening slightly. “Oh, come on! Not you too!” he whined, his voice tinged with frustration and disbelief. “I thought I was the only one! This is a disaster!”

Sanji let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing in the tiled bathroom. “I take it one of my wives bit you?” he smirked, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

“Very funny!” you shot back, trying to regain your composure as your heart raced. “What happened to surviving the night, Usopp?”

“Hey, you’re one to talk!” Usopp replied defensively, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You just had an encounter with our head vampire, and I came in to try and save you!”

As the sun began to rise outside, the soft light seeped into the bathroom, casting a golden glow over everything. You glanced toward the window, noting how the sky shifted from deep navy to warm hues of orange and pink. The dawning day felt surreal against the backdrop of your chaotic night.

“So since Usopp got bitten by one of your wives, and you are the head vampire, that means...” you said, your voice trailing off as you processed the implications.

Usopp’s eyes widened as he glanced at you, realization dawning on him. “So does this mean I feel...?” His voice trailed off, uncertainty flickering in his gaze.

Sanji, nonchalantly pulling out a cigarette from his pants, leaned against the bathroom sink, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “Hell no, Y/N is mine, and mine alone. What I feel for her are my desires. But if it’s about sucking blood or even desires to control, then yes, Usopp, you’ll feel that, too.” He brought the cigarette to his lips and lit it, blowing out a plume of smoke that curled lazily into the air, mingling with the steam from the shower.

“Great,” Usopp groaned, rubbing his temples. “Just what I needed—sharing a psychic connection with a vampire and his unwilling bride!”

You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at Sanji’s possessive declaration. “This is too much,” you murmured, shaking your head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Sanji stepped closer, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper. “You don’t have to believe it; just accept it, Y/N. We’re in this together now. All of us.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and there was an intensity in his gaze that made your heart race.

Usopp rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the flicker of determination in his expression. “Fine, but if I start feeling weird cravings for blood, I’m blaming you two!”

“Don’t worry, Usopp,” you reassured him, feeling a surprising sense of camaraderie forming. “I’ll make sure we navigate this together.”

Sanji chuckled softly, the tension in the room easing slightly. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s figure out what we’re going to do next before the sun fully rises.”

“Right, and maybe we should figure out how to reverse whatever just happened,” you added, a hint of urgency creeping into your voice.

“Reverse it?” Sanji smirked, taking a leisurely drag from his cigarette. “Why would we want to do that? I think you’ve grown rather fond of this arrangement, haven’t you?”

You shot him a glare, but the teasing glint in his eyes made it hard to stay angry. “This is not a game, Sanji! There are serious consequences to this, and I need to know what happens now.”

Usopp nodded vigorously, his expression now more serious. “Yeah! We have to make sure we can control this... whatever this is.”

As you stood there, the reality of your situation began to sink in deeper. The dawn light bathed the room in warmth, contrasting with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. You felt drawn to Sanji, the bond between you intensified by the events of the night. At the same time, you were acutely aware of the unexpected partnership forming with Usopp, who was now, whether he liked it or not, part of this bizarre new world.

Sanji’s expression shifted to one of determination, and he extinguished his cigarette with a swift motion. “First things first, we need to find the others. They need to know what’s going on, and we’ll figure out how to handle the bites together.”

“Agreed,” you said, glancing between the two of them. “We can’t keep this a secret. The last thing we need is for this to spiral out of control.”

With newfound resolve, the three of you stepped out of the bathroom, ready to face whatever challenges awaited you. The bond of the night before felt like a chain that tied you together, and now you try and prepare to confront the reality of your circumstances. 

[see-arcane]

Blood of My Blood - Danse Macabre

(The next grisly step in Blood of My Blood.)

The moon shines on a holy rooftop and a bloodstained street.

The music rises to a grim crescendo.

And a last dance is shared.

Ao3 link is here.

Time turned fickle for him after the first century.

He had not expected that. In truth, it had never occurred to him as he laid the foundation of his planned eternity. Irony distilled: A man chasing immortality without once thinking of how to pass the time. Even in his prime, he had been a child. Conquest was his only prize to chase until, as his men reminded him that they were only flesh, and his enemies smeared together under his hunger, and the sounds of steel and screaming blurred in the mad whirlpool that was his brain warring with itself for control, he had blinked. And suddenly he was a solitary shadow sitting in a ruined castle in the mountains he had blighted into his genius loci. Had a century passed by then? Had two? He had thought to ask one of the servants, only to realize there were none. No one in his retinue. No confidantes.

It was only him. A glutted Thing of power beyond human scale, huddled in its cave and desecrated earth. Alone.

There was no recalling how long or short the time was before he stole the first of his women away. A fair girl, almost as flaxen as—no. He would not think back to that. Forward, old devil, forward. Yes, he had snatched up the First in haste. Desperation. Someone to be a man for rather than the peasants’ monster. Then another. Another. A hoarder of pampered cats. But he had loved what they were, if not the women themselves. His pets. His pretty faces. His musical noise to fill up the castle halls with laughter, even if he was its target. And why not? He had let the malaise catch him. The ennui that even his instructors under the Mountain had warned him of.

Time turned into fumes for him in that period. The only thing that kept him aware of the calendar was playing the role of Count. A nobleman still had his duties to the swatch of country that was his and vice versa. Endless busywork and ever-increasing mountains of paperwork to slap him awake lest the wrong attention be drawn to the Dracula estate. Oh dear, has the old bastard finally croaked? Have his endless chain of lookalike descendants? No, not to worry. Still here. Always here.

Always. Always. Always.

Time rushed. Time crawled. Time turned to snowmelt between the itineraries.

Nights were his allies, at least. Those he could count on to stretch for him in his domain. An hour in Transylvanian darkness was three hours anywhere else. And the days! Oh, what a coward the sun became when his rule claimed the land! Sunrises limped and sunsets sprinted.

Tonight he wondered if time had done the same here. The night stretched and spilled like tar. Yet the notion brought him no comfort.

The night was going on too long. His senses reassured him that sunrise did still exist and it was coming, but for the first time in almost half a millennium of undeath, frustration made him suspect the dawn was purposefully withholding itself. At last the sun was taking its revenge by refusing a reprieve that would force himself and half the players of the night’s farce back into sleep. There would be no more intermissions, no more pauses. Tonight was to be an end or a beginning and nothing else, bar an ever more irritating slew of highs and lows. Every victory in the battle was chased by a fresh needle to the eye.

The woman had flung the sky—his sky!—at him. A stalemate until he struck her down with a fortunate shot. The boy was going to her aid now. Him and the freshly minted nuisance of a bride. But before he could go to congratulate the happy couple?

 Him.

A silver-white blur and a streak of red to mark his eyes. There was not even half a second to dwell on his wonder at the change in this creature. His thrall, his friend, his runaway beloved. Not before the Thing that had been Jonathan Harker was on him like a hound seizing a wolf. Not one of the lordling’s insipid pups, no; those mockeries of breeding were good only for rending rats and rabbits. If Jonathan Harker were any animal, it was a dog bred for hunting whatever beast looked at its sheep or its master.

And was he not that still? Was he not Master of the dog’s Mistress?

He tried to prove as much for an instant with his mind flung out to the woman only to be thwarted. His strike had done too much and her mind was too deep in blackness even to be stirred to his aid, let alone to pull Jonathan’s leash. Being caught in this revelation was what let his friend land the first blow. His Master struck him back. This earned him two strikes more and a startling view of the interior of the man’s mouth as it tried to bite his throat out. He’d never been on the opposite end of the surreal maw his conscripts wore. Sometimes the jaws of a bat, other times a wolf. Jonathan’s seemed to double up in a hideous way, bristling with teeth enough to fill an anglerfish’s mouth.

They grappled and tore, bit and struck, around and around in brute parody of a waltz. There might have been room in him to spit a comment to that effect, but for the boy’s darling wife. Her and her damned—ah, the burn declared otherwise!—blessed pistol. She was what was called a ‘crack-shot’ back on the lordling’s balcony. So many new holes had been made in his head. He had soothed himself to think that he had been starved, aged, distracted, her shots pure luck. It had not even occurred to him to bother with a trance.

Now he was fed back to his prime, she was perched atop the church, and his senses prickled in warning of what she wielded. The damned pistol had been replaced with something worse--a blessed martyr's weapon. He did not doubt that his speed and the girl's hesitance to strike Jonathan would be enough to thwart her aim. Probably. Still, there was no point in extending the risk.

“I’m afraid you must pardon me, my friend. The young lady is due for a meeting with her father-in-law.”

Crack.

Jonathan’s head broke the brick, but the wall had its revenge in a starburst of blood. His friend wobbled, but caught his arm and clamped it into solidity before the mist form could finish. How..? 

“I do not dismiss you,” Jonathan hissed. The whites of his eyes had gone rosy. “You have kept the Reaper waiting too long.” Was there something in the words or the will of his friend that anchored him? It must be so. He wouldn’t have suffered his next few injuries otherwise. It was only when Jonathan made a grab for the kukri that he left himself open.

Crack. Crack. Crack!

More broken bricks. Jonathan lay broken with them, groaning in a pillow of rubble. The white of his hair stained to crimson.

“Do not trouble yourself, my friend. I will tend to the children tonight.”

He was gone like a gust. An aching, bleeding gust, if one too quick for the little would-be markswoman. Nor could she dare to waste such precious ammunition on a gambled shot as he melted into the dark. The waning wedge of the moon was an admirable light on the scene, and aided twice over by the streetlamps. But mortal eyes could only strain so far. Pity.

His form congealed as he rose, the head of a dragon arching up to devour. His laugh turned the young couple's heads. It tickled to see how their faces went white before the sight of him. “My congratulations to you, newlyweds. I must have lost my invitation t—,”

Bang!

There went a holy bullet. And with such true aim! Yet it was a pointless shot, traveling through the cloud of him with no more effect than a pebble flung through fog. Even as it stung upon exit, he laughed again while his daughter-in-law chewed back a curse.

“I had assumed your gilded gnat of a father would have taught you the rules, girl. For shame.”

 As he hoisted himself to further educate on the matter, something drew tight around his ankle. Then pierced it. So quick and so tight that it tore through his Achilles tendon.

He snarled and twisted, glare aimed down, only for a sudden wave of horror to douse his rage. Anger drowned to that strange shuddering fear he had not known until that faraway day in Piccadilly. Back when he had seen the flash of steel and hollow burning eyes as his good friend gave chase to carve him open. Despite the familiarity of the dread, he did not recognize the figure crushing his ankle as Jonathan Harker. So much blood had fallen over the face and the face had so distorted with the rictus of its grin that he thought he was seeing a visitor from his years under the Mountain. Possibly one of his own tutors come to collect its due for the Lessons learned and the bodies piled. Or else something older. Colder.

Death leered up and spoke in his friend’s voice, “No more running. No more hiding in the mist.” The iron hand tightened again, this time cracking bone. Red rivulets painted Jonathan’s knuckles. “Twenty years of feeding cannot be washed away with a few nights’ gluttony. Blood of my blood,” he hissed, his fangs doubling in the open jaws, “your time has come.”

Jonathan tore them from the building’s side in a tangle of limbs and snapping teeth. A tangle that was impossible to be extricated from even when they landed in the churchyard and thrashed back to the street. There was not a half a second to be won without his friend pouncing again, ripping him out of the beginnings of fog form and back into the churning state of physicality. Injure, heal, injure, fight, injure, curse, injure, injure, injure. To his credit, he struck as many blows as his opponent, perhaps more. Each strike was given more venom than the last with his aggravation.

The girl was no doubt following them with the barrel of the gun, waiting for a clear shot in the whirling rush of them to make a new hole in him. An opening that became all the more likely as his friend kept hold, anchoring him to tangibility even as his flesh bruised or split. This, when Jonathan himself suffered damage upon damage, and that with but a scant dose of lifeblood in him. Even undead, his Harkers did so fuss about their meals. Such caution with the mortal chattel left his poor friend depleted. His healing grew slower and slower as his once and future Master beat him back for every blow struck.

And yet there was no shaking him. Jonathan cackled at the fact, sounding like so much shattered crystal. Undeath or lightheadedness had fully chipped through the silence that had once pinned his tongue when the man was called upon for violence. 

“Count, I am hurt!” he chided. “Why do you insist on leaving the floor? Is this not what you wanted? Here we are at last! In England, enjoying our overdue dance. Come, let me have your hand.” Jonathan’s bear trap mouth lunged out and would have torn said hand off by the wrist were his Master a half-second slower.

“Have it then.” His fist flew. Jonathan ducked and reached for— “It is my turn to be stung. I thought this was a gift.” He had to fight for evenness in the words. It was another battle in itself to keep Jonathan’s hand from swinging down with the kukri blade straining for his neck.

“It is! Only you must wear it closer.” Jonathan turned them as they spoke, trying to bare his Master’s back to the enemy. “A new brooch to have at your throat.”

The words turned some flagstone over in his chest and sent a hundred blind and bitter vermin running and biting through his heart. Strength surged. So did the clouds. A curtain was drawn back over the freshly-emerged moon just as the streetlamps doused all along the block. No audience from above to spy now. In the same tide of will, he finally tore the kukri free of his friend's hand. It rang against the street as it was flung aside, metal on stone. Jonathan lost a moment in throwing his attention after it in the new gloom. A moment was all it took.

He seized his friend in both hands and drove him down into the pavement.

Crack!

A heavier sound than what had come from the brick. Jonathan’s eyes rolled blearily in their sockets, but his hold remained steady. One hand gripping, another swiping for his Master’s face.

Crack!

“Stay down.”

Jonathan clung. His blood held, his hand held, he was trying to rise again, to—

Crack!

“Stay down!”

Crack!

“Why do you do this to me?”

Crack!

“Why do you make me do this when we both know how this ends?”

Jonathan sprawled dazedly in the rubble. His hands and his blood still gripped their Master. Scarlet streams ran from pained eyes. An image rose up of that childish night of gluttony inflicted to taunt the woman. His friend slumped, mauled and sluggish, dreaming traitorous thoughts of a flight from the window.

“You think you know…” Jonathan croaked in the present, “…but I see it. Tonight is where it ends. All of it. No victories. No conquest. None of us are yours anymore, Dracula.” His smile was not bitter. It was the tired curl he had seen the last night they had all lived in the castle. Ghoulish and sad and beautiful. It trickled until the lips blazed like red lacquer. “We never will be again.” 

“You are all mine,” his Master insisted back. His own hands tightened on the leaking heap of his friend. “The woman, our boy, you. She may have bled into you, but it is still my gift. Or do you think just because your Mistress sleeps for the moment, that you shall remain free of the leash I shall see her strangle you with? This is only where we start, my friend. We all have eternity before us. And all of it under my will.” It was his turn to smile. He tried to sharpen it, but found it creaked on his face until it was a mere desperate baring of teeth. “Undeath ends in but one way. Over 400 years of attempts and empty prayer have failed to deliver that end to me. You and the children and the thieving Jackal shall do no better. There is a Lesson waiting to be learned in that. A long one. But you will learn it. Or I will cement her in a wall for the next hundred years.”

To his shock, there was no horror on Jonathan’s face. Not even anger. There was only melancholy. His lips quivered, fighting not to part. Then:

“Or we could leave them,” came the whisper. “I was ready to, all those years ago. I think I may even have sold my soul at the time. There’s no telling for certain, but…yes. I think I must have for things to have gone this way. Before I ever became a Judas for my love, I was ready. I am still prepared, if that’s what it takes to free them from us.” One hand on his Master’s arm. The other clutching weakly at his lapel. “We need not chaperone or stain the family any longer. Let us go now. While they do not see.”

Either blood loss or the deeper weakness his friend had been seeding for twenty years almost paralyzed him.

For one starving instant, he caught himself imagining it. He pictured himself snatching Jonathan’s ragged form up in his arms and darting away into the night. His will was still supreme. He could sever the woman’s mind from his own and hide them in some secret corner of the world. If her mind wailed for her beloved to come running like a hound after its whistle, he could silence it. No amount of stolen sorcery could unmake that contract of their condition. Was it not how he planned to puppeteer the world from the beginning?

He could do it.

They could do it.

But no. He could have laughed or screamed as he felt Jonathan’s fingertips trace along his sternum. The claws growing and aligning. Oh, his dear Scheherazade and that magic tongue.

“Come. Hell is waiting for us, balaurul meu.”

Before Jonathan’s hand could drive forward and tear out the ancient heart—the metaphor made flesh—his Master seized the plotting fingers in his own crushing grip.

“No, my friend. No Hell. Only home.”

“Two names for the same place,” Jonathan grated. He was struggling again. Grasping, trying to rise. And still holding his Master solid. The fight would never overbalance in his favor without his fog or his focus. He had to. He had to… “We made a vow, she and I.”

“Jonathan—,”

“We will die before we return to you,” the gore-streaked face spat. “We will die before we let you have our son.”

“Yes. You will.”

CRACK!

Stone and skull fractured against each other. It was one of many sounds he had enjoyed over the centuries: The fragility of the human frame echoing in his ears. This time the noise was a knife in his chest.

Jonathan Harker slept in the crater with his eyes open. A corona of blood grew from his head in a monstrous halo as one hand fell away and the other hung limp in his Master’s fist. In the shattered skull, no thought or life paced. There was only quiet.

With a shudder, he squeezed the cold hand once before laying it aside. His fingers worked gingerly under what was left of his friend’s head, cupping blood, bone, and brain as one might try to save the yolk in a mangled egg. He knew the man was dead when he pressed lip and tongue to the slack mouth and felt no resistance. His last kiss went to the stained brow, cradling the corpse against him with a sigh.

“I am sorry, my friend. No, do not scoff. I mean it. I wanted none of this. We could be home right now. Our diavol safe and strong. Time wearing your compunctions smooth. No matter how long the Lesson, how harsh its teaching, time would win. And some night, this century or the next, happiness would find you. Misery breaks like bone under enough pressure. Joy is in its marrow. Was that why you did it? Why you betrayed me and our bliss to come? Was the thought of happiness in my arms so awful?”

Jonathan did not say.

The silence was answer enough.

He laid the carcass gently in the bed of pavement and swept a curtain of hair from the puckered brow. Even death did not bring serenity to the man’s face. He had watched his friend sleep more than once and had never come upon him without the look of a penitent begging Morpheus in his dreams for mercy or punishment. That such still existed in him as a vampire was as much a pain as a marvel. Undeath itself could not temper the martyrdom in him. It would need extracting like a tooth.

Perhaps. But first he needs a piece added. He left it behind so carelessly.

His thumb traced the bright stone at his throat before fishing out its mate from a vest pocket. The brooch glowed with internal fire under the waning moonlight, eager to return its rightful place. He closed Jonathan’s shirt collar and bowed to set the pin before a thought occurred—

Moonlight moonlight the clouds you lost focus the clouds are open and the street is visible she can—

— too late.

Bang!

A lance of fire shot through his hand. Blistering torture erupted there and made the injuries collected thus far feel like the nipping of insects. It had wounded more than flesh.

In his fist, snapped shut in pain, there was mere crystalline dust. That and a crumpled setting of ornate gold. Nothing more.

What clouds were left bayed anew with thunder as he snapped his head around. He found the lordling’s daughter taking aim again.

No more.

“No more,” he intoned to the air and to the hateful girl with her toy. He did not have it in him to relish the spasm of comprehension as the trance pierced her eyes and wrenched her rebelling brain into an obedient knot. Not even when he ordered her to lift the gun until it was level with her own temple. His son bleated once in horror—

“Lu, no!”

—thinking his Father meant to throw away a bargaining chip so foolishly. So painlessly. No, no. Nothing so easy for her. For any of them. Ah, and it seemed the boy’s cry was enough to rouse the limping mother at last. His will cracked at her like a whip:

Hold him.

A flare of fury from her, then another baffled cry from the boy. Good. Wonderful.

He looked again at his friend. His friend stared blindly at the stars. He paused long enough to slide the eyelids shut.

“Sleep, draga mea. This will be over soon.”

The promise made, he dashed down the street to retrieve the fallen kukri. He turned to mist a moment later and raced off to the climax of the night. Perhaps if he had turned back a final time, he would have reconsidered.

He might have hesitated in his return to the roof. (He did not.)

He might have stopped to examine his friend, the better to be certain he was dead. (Mr. Harker was.)

He might have wondered, just for an instant, if he did not feel Time’s seemingly infinite sand dwindling to its last grains in the hourglass. (If so, he would not admit it.)

But he did not turn and so did not see his friend’s face.

Dead and dismissed from the rest of the night's pending acts, Jonathan Harker was still. With the exception of his head. It had slumped to the side and its eyelids had slipped open. A proper corpse could do no more. If one could interview such a cadaver, he might have admitted that he had nothing to do with it. But something did.

Gravity? The final mindless motions of a dead body? Certainly.

Yet they had acted under a guidance that ensured the body stared in the direction of the church, of the ex-Master, of the eastern horizon made jagged with rooftops. And they had left the glazed eyes open for whatever audience might watch things unfold through the windows of a dead man’s unblinking stare.

If only to be sure that what was left of Jonathan Harker and Itself might witness the end of the dance.

[madam-o]

Nosferatu (2024)

Ok. So Robert Eggers has either just made the ultimate monsterfucker film OR the ultimate criticism of that genre. Not all monsterfucker films are created the same, but I think it's safe to say that the majority of them strongly romanticize the human/monster relationship to make it erotic and appealing to a mainstream audience. But no beautiful, sparkly, eternally young and fashionable creatures inhabit this film.

Oh no, on the contrary, only a waxy, twisted corpse with reflective, demonic eyes stalks the protagonists from the shadows. It most resembles a giant, undulating leech while in naked, monstrous action, and in most other shots, it can only be dimly perceived as a hulking, disfigured form with elongated features covered in fur. Unlike every other version of Count Orlok, we never see his full face or the trademark, rat-like fangs, but their presence is definitely felt through the gruesome sounds he makes while feeding and the diseased marks he leaves on his prey. This Orlok is definitely animalistic in every sense of the word, an amalgamation of rat, bat, and wolf. He's a literal plague. Bill Skarsgaard pulls off a miracle of acting by disappearing completely and creating a completely unearthly performance behind his impressive makeup with an equally impressive voice that sounds as large and demonic as he looks. He's also sexual, but in a completely unnerving way. More animal than human, desperate and violent.

Lily Rose Depp has impressed me in the past, but she's surpassed herself here. She's fearless and transcendent, throwing her whole body and soul into her portayal of a solemn, pale waif of a heroine. Her character is fragile and pure and yet also spiritually powerful, drawing the darkness to her with her own insatiability.

And guys, let me just again point out that it's been a pretty amazing era of women in horror for the last several years. We've got legends in the making like Lily Rose Depp, Florence Pugh, Maika Monroe, Margaret Qualley, Sophie Thatcher, and many other young female actors making serious waves in this genre, not to mention all the women filmmakers working in horror.

But I digress.

What Eggers and his top tier cast of performers achieves here is almost the final, definitive word on the classic vampire tale of a monster stalking a girl from leagues of time and space away. It removes the modern stylization and sexiness we're used to from films like Coppola's Dracula, and breaks the story down to Reason vs superstition, the seen vs the unseen.

I love the sense of authentic folklore Eggers gives to his creatures, and it feels especially rich and historically accurate here. As always, Eggers is spotlighting the fears and concerns of a specific place and time from the past. 19th century Germany has many great scientific advances being made in it, and yet bubonic plague is still very much a concern, bringing along with it ancient, primal fears and beliefs. The lesson of the Dracula/Nosferatu story has always been that we modern folk neglect spiritual matters and scoff at superstition to our own peril, and the stubbornness of rational men pretty much dooms everyone in the cast in this version.

But make no mistake, there's still definitely erotic elements in this film, they're just more brutal and terrifying than titillating. You're not going to see Gary Oldman as a wolf creature humping a girl in a red fringe corset nightie here, is what I'm saying. In fact, this vampire might be the most nasty, corpsey one I've ever seen. Necrophilia is a recurring theme here, as well as many orgasmic fits of possession. Bodies are violated repeatedly and in various ways. The final, naked shot of the film inspired uncomfortable laughter from a woman in my audience because of how grotesque a tableau it was. So how much this turns you on will depend on how hardcore you are into the monster thing.

It's a movie that sticks with you, even if you're not sure if it's hot or horrific. I give it 10 screaming demonic fits out of 10.

[infin1ty-garden]

So I just finished the quarry and fell in love max brinly 😅 do you think you can do a max brinly x reader? Weather they were already in a relationship or met at camp, but max makes it to camp and is there the whole summer. Something happens to where the reader get attacked/bit that night and he does whatever he can to save her? Preferably a happy ending together, but your discretion! Thank you for whatever you can do!!

I WOULD DIE FOR HER

༊*·˚ summary: [ in request ] ༊*·˚ pairing: max brinly x fem! reader ༊*·˚ warnings: werewolf attack? injury, guns, blood & curse words ༊*·˚ word count: 1180 ༊*·˚ author note: it's been a while since i played the quarry. canon divergent

masterlist.

"A werewolf? Great! What's next? Dracula?" It was the last day of summer camp. They were suppose to be on the road already but their car didn't start. Instead of eating junk food and belting songs, they were stuck here. At best until tomorrow morning.

And now, apparently a wolf or werewolf attacked Nick and Abby. Max didn't doubt Abby or Nick's words but a werewolf is something harder to believe in. An escaped science experiment would have been more believable.

No matter how believable it is or not. One thing was for certain, something was out there to get them. Dylan and Ryan try to get help via the radio shack as the others stay back in the lodge, including Max and you. But while there you hear something on the roof.

Sounding way too heavy to be a bird. Then Abby and Nick's statement proves to be right as a werewolf crashes through the roof. It starts chasing each of you, trying to see which one will catch it first. Right as you think you managed to find a good place to hide.

It charges at your hiding place. It's claws sinking into your shoulder. Max rips the gun out of Kaitlyn's arms and aims it for the creature. Shoot it in the arm then stomach. It turns its attention away from you and to Max as shots it in the head. It backs off running into the woods.

"How did you know how to do that?" Max hands the gun back to Kaitlyn and rushes over to you. "It's a gun. It's not that difficult," he assesses the wound. It's deep and without some treatment you could bleed out. He refuses to show any panic. Knowing it'll only make the situation worse.

Max knows there's some medical stuff in the lodge 'just in case something happens'. This is something. He tells Kaitlyn to keep you awake as he goes to find the supplies. He's not a medical student or anything but he will try his best.

"Don't let her die," is all Max could think about and when he gets back he makes quick work of the wound with the help of Kaitlyn. He has you bite on a cloth as they sow up the wound and wrap a lot of gauze around it. It's not perfect but it's the best they could do.

By the time they are done. Ryan and Dylan are back. They bombard them with questions on what happened. You look pale and Max, the worried boyfriend that he is, keeps sending you concerned looks. The first time you try to take a step, you almost faceplant.

But you need to leave the lodge as there is now a hole in the roof. The group decided to go to the pool house and hunker down there. Max helps you walk all the way there. Once you arrive, Nick starts acting really weird. Max and you separate from the group.

He lets you rest but does everything so you don't close your eyes. He goes back to check on the others. The next thing you hear is a lot of yelling and the sound of a gunshot. Max comes rushing back. He's in a state of shock. That much is obvious.

Quickly picks you up bridal style and runs out of the pool house. On your way out you notice the room was drenched in blood. You're left in the dark as to what happened. What you do notice is Laura, one of Max's friends and a counsellor that went missing, showed up.

She explains where she'd been this whole time. The group makes the ultimate decision to split up again. Laura and Ryan go to the Heckett's house, Emma and Abby to the basement of the lodge and Dylan, Kaitlyn, Max and you try to find a spare part to fix the car.

Even Laura suggested that Max go with her but he declined. Refusing to leave your side. Cute, considering you'll turn into one of those creatures before the night is over. At the junkyard, Dylan and Kaitlyn are working on the crane.

Dylan starts rapidly honking the horn. "There's something coming!" Max and you find a hiding place hoping that the creature doesn't find you. That hope is squashed as it's now only a few feet away from you. You feel anger bubbling up in you.

You've been through shit this whole night. Two of your friends could be dead and Max's missing ex girlfriend is now back. Is he going to dump you and get back together with her? Were you just a summer fling to him? You feel as if your insides are being ripped out.

Were you dying? Max jumps from the hiding place and shoots the creature. He aims to take another shot but the gun's empty. It runs to your hiding place. You feel as if something is trying to burst out of your chest. Excruciating pain as your bones break than a burst of blood.

You can't control your movements anymore. Attack the werewolf charging at you, killing it. Max can't believe what he's seeing. He knew it was a matter of time before you turned but this is terrifying. If he is to die by your hand so be it but to his surprise you run away.

Leaving the junkyard to go to God knows where. He goes to find Kaitlyn and Dylan, tells them what had happened. All three of them go back to the lodge with the part in hand to meet up with the other counsellors. Laura and Ryan return with Travis Hackett.

"It's over. We killed Silas," the first thought in Max's head is 'Who?' and the second how the hell is he going to find you. Laura offers to go with him and this time he obliges. If there's a possibility they find your dead body, he needs someone he trust there when he breaks down.

Instead of finding a dead body, they find you walking. Probably trying to find a way back to the lodge. Max is overwhelmed with relife and envelopes you in a bone crushing hug. "You're okay. Thank God! You're okay." He peppers your face with kisses.

"Never do that again," he rests his head on your shoulder. "What do you mean? I turn into a werewolf on a regular basis," he laughs but soon tears start falling from his eyes. Laura interrupts the moment.

"We should get back. I don't wanna spend another second in this forest," she starts walking. "Laura's back. So, when's your date planned?" Max's back straightens and his eyes look as if they'll fall out of his sockets. "What?"

"With Laura. I would assume you guys will pick up where you left off." He aggressively shakes his head. "No! I mean we didn't break up but the night before she left we realised we're just not working. To me you're like a breath of fresh air. Okay that's a cheesy metaphor but I love you and nothing will change that."

Thanks for reading!

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 13: Bad Halloween - Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of bad luck, a little NSFW, fingering, kissing, hickies, biting, some dirty talk.

Type: One shot

Request: N/A

Word Count:

Prompt: Reader has a series of bad Halloweens and Steve tries his best to make it the best best one yet for them

Notes: i feel like i half assed this, I’m still trying to get back into writing help.

You were absolutely dreading Halloween. There was absolutely nothing to be excited about. You thought you’d grow out of it but it seemed to only get worse throughout the years.

Since you were little, you seemed to be cursed on the 31st of October, never able to properly enjoy a single holiday of Halloween. 

As you grew older, you avoided even acknowledging the holiday in hopes that it wouldn’t phase you.

Nevertheless, the evidence of its near presence was plastered through stores and businesses, even the own avengers. With neon orange lights slimy green goblins, black bags and spiderwebs.

Reluctantly joining the devils nights holiday, you decided to go as Karen’s choice of costume in meangirls, excited to answer everyone with “I’m a mouse, duh”

Those who saw the movie, understood, those who didn’t, were confused as to why you were standing in the middle of their living room with lingerie and mouse ears.

The only one who didn’t question it without knowing much of the reference to the movie, was Steve.

Dressed in a black button up and a cape Nat grabbed for him while doing a snack run, he opted to the traditional Dracula costume. A stain of red rubbed against his lips to give the illusion of blood, even in the common choice, he still looked gorgeous.

“You see? It’s not so bad after all. I think you just never had anyone to do anything with or for you during Halloween.”

You promised the team you’d show to their Halloween kickback, even with your superstition. They all swore up and down that this would be the best Halloween yet, especially Steve.

As you walked around with your decorated drink, you began to second guess your choice of costume, feeling all eyes on you. Not your team as much as the unwelcome men you’ve never met, friends of Tony? You weren’t sure.

Three shots in and the music just started playing, alcohol definitely helped with the nerves.

What it didn’t help was all the awkward eye contact. The only person it didn’t feel awful with was Steve, even if he was mentally fucking your brains out.

It wasn’t like Steve even wanted to take the costume off of you, not knowing whether it was because he opted to keep it on or because he was just too desperate to be inside you that he chose not to. 

There had been tension between you both, anyone who spent more than five minutes in the same room with you two could tell.

He played into the boyish shy method of playing with your head, but he couldn’t withhold it anymore around you like this.

Five drinks in and he was already pulling you by your wrist back to your room, nothing was said, just a buzzed smile meeting a lustful face.

“I told you it wasn’t going to be so bad. Over here worried about nothing”

You felt your heart jump, mindlessly letting him tug you around anywhere.

“What are we doing?” You finally asked before being led to your own room. “I just wanna makeout with you.” He admitted in a matter-of-fact manner, which didn’t help your nerves either.

After breathless, warm, open mouthed kisses against your door, Steve’s arms pulled you upwards, pressing his whole body against yours. His cheesy Dracula costume disheveling in the process. You were desperate for him of course, but the way his hands traveled your exposed skin seemed like Steve needed you more than anything.

The music from downstairs was rumbling through the walls and floors, sounds of laughter along with it. If anyone knew how to throw parties, it was Tony Stark.

“You tell me that you love me

And I know that I'm right

'Cause I hear it in the night”

Fitting. You could hear the lyrics faintly, slowly focusing less on what was going on behind the door and more on Steve’s movements.

Your body was crying out for him, feeling his hand wrap around your throat, causing you to abruptly hit his chest, moans fell out of your mouth like they were cries for help. It was no secret you were begging for him to take you and he had every intention to do so. 

There was no time to assess what Steve was going to do next, he was already doing it. His free hand slid down to lift your babydoll, yanking your panties down from your core, only able to shove them down to your knees in a swift move. It was surely enough for him for now. 

“I hear the secrets that you keep

When you're talkin' in your sleep”

Cries fell from your lips as you felt his hard on against your now exposed ass, only disrupted by the fabric of the underside of your babydoll fabric and his pants. You didn’t even have time to complain, before you knew it Steve’s fingertips were pressed against your slick folds. 

Your breath hitched, uncontrollable and desperate. Your head attempted to break from his hold to get a blissful glimpse of what was going on, but he had you pressed firm against him. The more you tugged, the tighter the grip was. 

The only real control you had were your moans along with the very restricted movements of your hips, crying out to have Steve devour you. 

“You look so fucking hot right now you know that baby-” There was no way you could keep your sight straight, especially with the first finger you felt shoved into you. A cry gripped your throat, you almost felt like actual tears were going to stream from the corner of your eyes immediately. 

Steve on the other hand was relishing the torment he was putting you under. He was completely basking in your desperation “You’re bold to walk around like this. Is this how you wanted to end up? letting me use you up. Look at how even your body cries out to me. ” Your eyes closed as Steve deliciously pumped his index finger in and out of your soaked hole. He was the one demeaning you, but he couldn’t get enough of your breathy whimpers and whines that fell from your lips. The way you buckled your hips as your last resort to get more attention only encouraged him to keep his mouth running. 

“Fuck” Steve grunted when he looked to your reflection in front of you both. The dressers mirror exposing your bliss. “Look at how pretty you look” Steve mumbled into your ear as he leaned his head down to pull what he could of your hair away from your face with his chin. The pumping only increasing when he took a good look at you. 

You looked so pathetic and hopeless, only writhing to his touch. 

“This is even better than what I imagined you like.” Steve admitted as he chuckled as he watched your legs jerk in pleasure, wanting to close but your mind convincing them they were better off draped on the sides of Steve’s thighs, leaving you open and exposed for his delight. 

“Such a good girl too” You heard a breathy laugh next to your ear. He kept his pumping steady, your head stupidly unable to stay still, falling from side to side in pleasure. This would only cause Steve’s ego to erupt taller than Tony’s tower. 

“What do you think two fingers would feel like?” He asked into your ear, not expecting you to respond at all. Tightening his grip around your throat, pulsating every so often to let you breath for only half of a second. 

Moans fell from your lips like they were prayers and Steve answered to them immediately. 

Your eyes widened unexpectedly when you felt a second finger trying to enter your hole, slowly sliding in and curling slowly. You could feel the fuzz from the lack of circulation in your head, your eyes starting to meet one another in pleasure.

He kept both fingers in, only tugging them side to side for a few seconds before his lips upturned into a smile at your loosening eyes.

Your knees raised as Steve struggled to get his middle finger into you. You were soaked, to say the least, but Steve’s fingers were huge compared to yours. 

Complaints continued to drool from your lips as eventually Steve prepped you up. He was overwhelmed with the pleasure he was giving you, he couldn’t admit it now but he was close to climaxing just by toying with you.

“When I hold you in my arms at night

Don't you know you're sleepin' in a spotlight”

Steve forced you to look at yourself in the mirror as he slid the second finger in. You were so lost in bliss, losing count of how many times Steve pumped your creamy liquids in and out of you. Your eyebrows furrowing on and off every time you came. Your nails gripped onto his biceps, whatever muscle you could reach when you were close.

“Pretty frowns, but it feels good right? Good girl, there you go.” Steve sinfully encouraged you as you squeezed your eyes shut. Your whole body trembled, your breathing hitched as he encouraged your moans, pushing the hair away from you face, darkly chuckling to himself to see the mess you’ve become due to his obscene actions. 

He hadn’t even unbuckled his belt and you already soaked his sheets. His grip stayed on your neck as he rubbed his fingertips around your plumped clit, rubbing them lazily across your folds, bringing his soaked fingers to his lips. He watched you as you whimpered at the loss of friction, sucking off the cum briefly. “Such a messy girl. Already fucking came everywhere, I should make you lick it all up.” He groaned, squeezing your neck in the process as a faux punishment.

You didn’t have the slightest clue, but Steve was trying everything in his power to not lose control. Looking down to see your black panties with white stains, glossy folds plump and begging for more, all while you’re lying there, your hands giving up on gripping onto Steve.

Steve wanted to eat you out for hours, but he genuinely felt like if he didn’t stick his dick in you he was going to explode.

Removing his grasp of your neck, he stood up and began to work at his belt. All while you laid there involuntarily whining for more attention. Steve would never admit it, but he secretly loved when you were a handful, he knew it was all because you were desperate for his attention, that’s all it was. It got him off knowing that he caused that much of a commotion in your body to beg for him involuntarily.

Loud banging clashed against your door, still in a haze, you only looked when Steve stopped his movements. The frustration visible in his eyes, especially when the banging didn’t stop “this rooms taken!” He voiced over in hopes the unwelcome visit would disappear.

It did.

Steve’s eyes trailed over to you again, his fingertips pulling away from your folds and up against his lips. Looking at you again as if you were prey, he wanted to take in every second of this encounter. The way you smelt, the way you felt, the way you looked at him, the way your body pleaded for him.

He was going to find every way to make sure you were claimed as his, starting with love bites. His head dipped down to your neck, prepping the spots with his spit. All of his movements sending shivers down your spine.

“You tell me that you love me

And I know that I'm right

'Cause I hear it in the night”

The bites turned into hickies, marking you in the darkest shade he possibly could without hurting you. Breathless moans fell from your lips as he caught some of your sweet spots. The unease of your legs being a dead giveaway, he practically cradled your body, his cape half on and draped over a part of your thighs.

Your hands ran up to comb through his hair, closing your eyes fully submerged in the moment.

He lost himself in marking you, tiny bruises from the grip his fingertips had on you, your heart had to be fluttering and you knew he felt every beat. Your eyelids half opened, you looked over to him and his dedication to leave evidence.

“You tell me that you want me

You tell me that you need me”

Steve was determined to break that Halloween curse of yours and it was working. “Maybe you just ought to spend more Halloween’s with me”