#he started as a vampire and now it's worse!

[lostintransist]

Chiseled Heart | Part 2

CW: Suspisions of stalking

AO3

You liked the look of the big man at the gym. He never stared at you and offered help only when you really needed it. When you had last seen him blood had run down your arm from your smashed finger. The trip to the Instacare, thankfully, had not led to stitches but did require steri-strips, and the doctor advised you to take a week off from the gym as the swelling in your hand reduced.

It gave you time to clean the handkerchief the man had let you borrow. Honestly, you didn’t even know people still carried them around. The fabric, soft and clean against your fingers, doesn’t smell like him. Such a shame, you imagine he is a man who smells good. Mentally smacking yourself from the daydreams starting to stir you tuck the handkerchief into the top of your gym bag and go about getting ready for work.

Work involved being an actuary for an insurance firm. Yes, you often felt like the devil shat on your flesh when you left work but you had to survive capitalism somehow. Stumbling into the profession had been a stroke of luck. A job fair at your college campus in the early days of your general ed classes had sat between the two buildings where your classes were held. You had always been good, comfortable, and confident in math, and a job that would always be needed somewhere that let you dink around in Excel all day? Well, there were worse things to direct your life toward. You refused to work for health insurance companies. You needed to survive, but you didn’t need to be the reason someone died.

Audiobooks and your favorite forty-six-hour playlist (that did grow nearly every time you found a new song or band to obsess over) kept you company as you toiled away your minutes at the overly light computer. No matter how many times you flicked off the overhead lights your boss would turn them back on with every chat. It reached the point you were sure he was fucking with you. He didn’t work in the small office flooded with natural light. No, he worked across the building. You would hate him if that didn’t require giving any emotional energy toward the vampire.

Being the only non-man on the team led to some interesting reactions from people who floated by the office or dropped by to confirm the numbers on a file that had been sent out. They all filtered to you first. Every. Last. Visitor. It got so bad that you had taped a 62-point font two-page spread to the back of your monitor that read “NOT IN CHARGE ASK HIM” with an arrow pointing to your supervisor’s desk. It helped a little.

The gym between the office and your apartment had become a refuge from the corporate curve to your spine and the ache in your ass from your chair. It never seemed to fade no matter how many hours you switched from sitting to standing. Hip exercises though? Now those aches faded and left you fitting better in your slacks.

Staring at your frozen lunch in the microwave at eye level you toy with the waiting plastic fork at your lips. Mind drifting with the monotonous spin you find yourself thinking of him again. The man who wore a mask no matter how sweat through his top might be, who never stared, and walked with the slightest of limps. He had been kind, if a bit reluctant the few times you had interacted. Maybe reserved would be a better word for his actions. Nothing about his help had been reluctant toward you; more as if he battled within himself before deciding.

Maybe you should offer him a cupcake from the local bakery? Or take him to coffee as a thank you? Somehow the idea of his large hands hiding a paper cup as the heat seeped from it didn’t appeal. He couldn’t drink anything warm with a mask firmly in place. Doubt crept along your shoulders. You needed to say thank you. Handing the clean folded piece of cloth and your sincerest words didn’t satisfy the need ingrained from childhood.

Settling on offering to buy him a take-home dessert or a takeout of his choice you nod once to yourself. If he declined the offer at least you had put the effort in to truly articulate your thanks for his help. Today being Monday you set the goal of asking him when you returned his belongings. The rest of the day slips by easily; reports are completed on time and fired off by email. You didn’t even forget to add an attachment today.

When you are leaving the parking lot you notice it, that car that always leaves at the same time as you. It’s not terribly unusual. Building management did try and stagger off times to avoid parking lot traffic but the same car for the past three weeks had been pulling out directly behind you every time you left. The blue peeking through the rust of the bug started to give you Dahmer vibes. It had been a concern on your radar. Your panic didn’t increase until tonight. Instead of taking a turn before you got to your destination, the bug followed you today, parking at the back of the gym parking lot. You were able to snag an opening under a light pole and close to the entrance.

Scurrying from your car you sneak through the front door as the clock shifts to eight and they lock behind you. Heaving a sigh of relief you lift your bag further up your shoulder and head for the locker room. It isn’t hard to spot the man you are looking for when you let your eyes drift across the gym. He has headphones on today as he does squats. Man had a flat ass but he sure as hell never skipped leg day.

Dressing, you mentally run through the steps of your Monday routine. Stairmaster is first, then after you are warmed up today you would focus on back and chest. The man who helped you, damn you really needed to get his name today, didn’t notice you until you were nearly done with your last exercise. He often arrived before you and left after. When your eyes caught in the mirror that spanned the length of the gym he nodded once at you before continuing to put away his current weights.

Finishing your last set you speed through putting your own weights away and slipping into the dressing room to grab the handkerchief you needed to return. You are able to corner him in what everyone refers to as the stretching corner. Feet spread wide, head down he slowly walks his hands from one leg to the other. You do your best not to drool over the stretch and bulge of muscles as he does this. Chewing on your lip you wait patiently for his movements to be finished.

When his hands reach the middle he drops one knee and then the other, pulling both beneath him as he prepares to stand. He looks up after getting one foot on the ground. You are startled at the blue eyes that peer out at you.

“Ja?”

You blink a few times before offering his item back with both hands.

“I wanted to say thank you for your help and offer to buy you take out one of these days,” your words are nearly not understandable with how they all rush over each other to get out of your mouth. Taking a deep breath you give your name before noticing you are still holding on to the handkerchief.

Letting go you give him a wincing smile and step back a smidge.

Your eyes trail up with him as he stands, he is tall. You weren’t short for a woman by any means but you didn’t quite crack six feet. He had to be well over that number.

“I know you wear a mask so I would also be happy to get you a gift card. This isn’t me trying to pry or force you in any way I just thought a thank you wasn’t really enough you know?”

Now you are rambling. You shut your mouth with a slight click, barely managing to get your tongue out of the way before you crushed it. You stare at him as he stares at you.

“König,” he offers a hand.

You take it and shake it before tucking your hands behind your back to keep from embarrassing yourself further.

“I will decline the food offer, but danke,” he inclines his head with this thanks.

“You’re welcome, I didn’t think you would but I would feel bad if I didn’t at least offer.” Shrugging once you can feel this conversation coming to an end. Stepping back once more you can’t figure out the best way to end this interaction. “Thanks again, for the help.”

He nods once and you skitter away to the locker room for your bag. You studiously avoid looking for him as you head toward the front doors. The sight of the stalkerish car still sat in the same stall in the back of the lot. Turning to look at the front desk you only see two young women chatting away. Can’t ask them, they would be in just as much danger.

Cursing the bastard that was maybe stalking you under your breath you make your way back to the stretching corner. You wait again for König to take notice of you. When he does he lifts a brow in question.

“Sorry I know I’m awkward and probably annoying at this point but is there any chance you could walk me to my car?” You point over your shoulder as if he doesn’t know where the parking lot is. “There is this weird car I have been seeing over the last few weeks and they followed me here tonight and they are still in the lot.”

He nods and stands, walking by your side before holding open both the inner and outer doors for you.

“Will be back,” he says to the front desk gals in passing. They nod and thank him for the heads up.

The fresh air and trickle of water from the creek that runs next to the building are refreshing after the slight sweat-tinged air of the gym. The engine of the little blue bug starts up as you appear. It proceeds to peel out when they notice the mountain of a man at your side. König keeps pace with you, his silence is comforting as you breathe a sigh of relief.

Reaching your car you drop your duffle bag in the back seat and turn to look up at him as you lean back on the door.

“Okay, now I really do owe you dinner. Will you be here Wednesday? I’ll bring a gift card since I doubt you would like to have dinner with me and my socially incompetent self.”

“Nien, no need,” he waves a hand between you as if the help he provided is nothing. “I am also…awkward.”

“Well, nothing you say will prevent me from buying you a gift card.” You smile up at him, grin wide and bright. “Thanks König. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

With that you climb into your car, shutting and locking the door before driving off into the night. König waves to you as you stop before pulling onto the road. You wave back despite knowing he can’t see you in the dark.

Chiseled Masterlist | Masterlist

[evaslytherpuff]

Things That Go Bump In The Night

Dark!Sebastian x Dark!Ominis x f!OC

18+ MINORS, DO NOT READ!!!

!Forced Poly Relationship!

(Characters are all 20+ years of age!)

CW: Angst, Non-Con, Sexual Punishment, BDSM, Aggressive Feeding, Oral M&F receiving, Rough DP, Creampie, Blood Kink, Biting, Marking, Overstimulation, Thoughts of death, Somnophilia, Violent Magic, Bodily harm…there were a lot for this chapter! This chapter is very dark! Savage vampires and lots of blood!

If any of the above warnings may be triggering PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE READING! Seriously, this one is really heavy!

Chapter 6

Just keep my eyes closed! Shut out everything and maybe the pain will go away! Vivian thought as she bit down on her wet gag. Nothing was working. She was a bloody, exhausted, and tangled mess. Tied up to be used relentlessly, covered in sweat and her own juices. Her cunt was weeping with every tremble of her worn out and drained body. She could feel how much had accumulated and dripped onto Ominis as he slid his shaft along her folds. Her muffled whimpers were drowned out by his heavy breaths brushing against her ear. Ominis held her bound wrists with one hand pressed between their bodies and the other he used to fondle and squeeze her blood smeared breasts, trail his fingers down her torso, then toy with her clit until she was writhing on top of him. His tongue flicked out to lap at her bleeding wounds, soothing the pulsing ache that tore through her muscles.

Sebastian was still wedged between her legs and seemed to be enjoying the fact that he was torturing her by dragging his nails, which felt more like claws now, up and down the sensitive skin of her thighs. He hummed pleasantly as he kissed every bite he left on her weak and tired limbs. Vivian didn’t even have the strength to close her legs if she wanted to which left her feeling more vulnerable than ever. She was at their mercy and they clearly weren’t done with their idea of punishment.

“How many orgasms has she had so far, Omi?” Sebastian asked as one of his claws brushed against her slit making her yelp and squirm against Ominis.

“By my count…I’d say six. She can handle more than that though. Can’t you, Sweetheart?” Ominis cooed in her ear. She shook her head and sobbed, her tears soaking her silk blindfold.

“We think you have a few more in you, Baby. You can handle it.” Vivian could literally feel Sebastian’s smirk graze her shaking leg. His breath was hot against her damp skin as his hands slid up and down her thighs. She could feel blood leaking from all the bites Sebastian had left on her marred body. It trailed down her legs to join the mess between her and Ominis. They didn’t compare to the gaping holes on her neck though. Ominis made sure to bite the same spots over and over again, making the wounds much worse and more painful than the ones on her thighs. She practically jumped out of her skin when Sebastian lifted her up to palm her arse and pressed a few kisses on her sensitive cunt. Ominis moaned loudly as he rocked his hips, his cock sliding against her throbbing heat, and started to thrust himself on Sebastian’s tongue. Now Ominis’ cock was pressed between her soaked pussy and Sebastian’s hungry mouth.

“You both feel so good…don’t stop, Sebastian.” Ominis’ head fell back against the pillows as his grasp became painful around Vivian’s wrists. Sebastian applied more pressure with his mouth causing increased friction between their writhing bodies as Ominis’ thrusts became more frantic and rough. She would have been bouncing wildly on his lap if it wasn’t for Sebastian holding her in place with his firm grip on her backside. His tongue would slip off of Ominis’ shaft and glide through her folds, dipping into her entrance. The line was obliterated between pleasure and pain and all Vivian wanted was for them to stop and give her a break. She tried to force her mind to go blank and become numb to their actions but each bite, lick, or thrust pulled her subconscious back into reality. Ominis must have noticed her attempt at shutting down so he gripped her chin with his free hand and yanked her head back against his shoulder.

“Tsk tsk, Darling. Stay with us. We are not done with you yet,” he snapped. “We are just getting to the best part.” Ominis smoothed her hair away from her face and removed her tear stained blindfold then he forced her to look down at Sebastian running his tongue all over his cock.

“Do it, Sebastian. No more teasing.” Ominis held her head in place and wouldn’t allow her to move or break eye contact as the brunet’s hands slithered around her waist to grab a hold of her hips. Sebastian chuckled deeply and it sent a shiver down her spine as Ominis moved his pelvis out of the way. Sebastian’s black eyes bore into hers as he reared his head back, his fangs glinting in the warm glow of the room, and sank them into her dripping cunt. Vivian screamed against her gag and mustered all the strength she had left to fight against their hold on her. They were simply too strong and Ominis yanked her back to his chest then bit into her sore neck once more. Another orgasm sent shockwaves through her ravaged body as Sebastian’s tongue breached her core while his fangs were still firmly locked inside her flesh. The room spun around her and became a pale swirling blur as the two of them drank from her deeply.

This is it. They are going to kill me. She thought as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Sebastian withdrew his fangs from her first and reached up to tap Ominis’ shoulder.

“Enough! She’s on the verge of passing out and we aren’t through with our punishment just yet, Ominis. We still need to finish.” Sebastian wiped her blood and slick from his mouth with the back of his hand then moved to position himself between her bruised and battered thighs. Ominis released her neck with a huff and left a bloody kiss on her throbbing temple.

“Give me the blood replenishing potion from the night stand.” Sebastian demanded with an outstretched hand and Ominis quickly obeyed, releasing her wrists to reach for the small glass vial. He handed the potion to their lover and Sebastian took it with a satisfied smirk. He popped the cork on the bottle as Ominis reached up to remove her gag. She felt utterly helpless as Sebastian took her chin in his free hand then poured the contents of the potion into her mouth. Vivian only had a moment to catch her breath before she felt her blood rushing through her veins. Every drop they drained from her exhausted body came flowing back in an instant. Some of it gushed from her wounds from how quickly the potion had kicked in.

Ominis bit into his own wrist and brought the wound over her mouth. “Drink from me, Darling. It will help to heal you.” He held the back of her head and pressed his arm to her lips but Vivian jerked her head to the side and refused to drink his blood, smearing it along her jaw.

“Don’t fight us. Do as he says, Viv.” Sebastian reached forward, yanking her head as he pried her mouth open once more, allowing the thick scarlet liquid to drip down her throat. Ominis applied more pressure which made the blood flow from his wound even more. Sebastian watched with dark eyes as she was forced to feed from Ominis who was slowly wiggling his hips beneath her. Vivian gasped loudly as he pulled his wrist away from her stained lips. The oddest sensation tickled her skin as she felt her wounds close and heal quickly. They had sealed up on themselves making her skin as good as new. Even though she was partially restored, she still felt drained and the agony from their bites.

Her head slumped forward and tears spilled from her eyes that splashed onto her breasts, washing away some of the blood that was caked up on her chest. Sebastian moved a little closer and cupped her face in his hands. He leaned in menacingly and placed a kiss on her lips. When he pulled away he studied her expression and ran his fingers down her throat then allowed them to continue to cascade down her body. He smiled at her but it felt cold and hollow in her opinion.

“I think red is your color, sweetheart. It looks amazing on your skin.” He swiped at one of her nipples with a clawed fingertip to gather a drop of blood and bring it to his lips. Ominis released his hold on her only to begin to palm and squeeze her breasts some more. He held them in his hands as if he was offering her flesh to Sebastian’s bloodstained mouth which the freckled man greedily accepted. His fangs sank into her skin and he hungrily pulled on her aching nipple with his tongue. He was feeding from her with loud grunts and groans as Ominis toyed and teased the nipple that was exposed to the heated air of the room. Vivian whined and turned her head away but Ominis was quick to correct her and forced her head to the left as his fangs sank into her skin once more. He pierced the area between her neck and shoulder and her nails dug into his torso over the sharp pain that shot through her. Again, they stopped drinking from her when she was on the verge of blacking out.

“Your blood is the most delectable thing to ever bless my tongue.” Sebastian panted against her damp and quivering skin as he licked his lips. He used his own fang to pierce his fingertip and Vivian watched as a small bead of blood welled up from the tiny wound.

“Suck on it.” He pressed his finger to her mouth and her lips parted reluctantly. He groaned loudly as her tongue swirled around the digit and his blood filled her mouth with that metallic savory taste. Ominis’ hand trailed down her torso and his fingers dipped inside her pulsing heat.

“You may say you don’t want this but your soaking wet cunt says something else, Love,” The blue eyed demon muttered in her ear. Was she aroused? Or was it all the blood that spilled from her wounds and traversed down her body? She couldn’t think clearly anymore and mentally she tried her best to block everything out.

“I can’t take it anymore! I fucking need you, now!” He growled as he held her hips firmly in his grasp and positioned her above his straining erection. Without any hesitation or concern he slammed her down on his cock making her release Sebastian’s finger with a scream. Sebastian quickly covered her mouth and muffled her heavy sobs. He leaned forward with a grin to kiss away the tears that spilled from her tired eyes.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Ominis was a bit rough, I know. I know. He just loves you so much. He couldn’t wait to have you any longer.” Sebastian tried to calm her down but it was no use as Ominis began to work her up and down his length. Her cries were snuffed out by Sebastian’s rough hand as he used the other to wipe at her tear stained face. He watched in a twisted fascination as Ominis fucked her relentlessly, her body jerking against the blond’s frame.

“Seb! I need you! Please! Please!” Ominis begged over her shoulder. What did he mean? She wondered. Surely there can’t be more? Could there? Ominis shifted the both of them on the bed, angling her slightly as he leaned back even further on the mattress, now her head rested against his shoulder. Sebastian released his grip on her mouth and kneeled between her spread legs. Realization dawned on her and she shook her head wildly as he grasped his cock in his claw tipped hand and pressed the head against her aching cunt.

“Don’t worry. It’s fine, Baby. We’ve got you. It’s alright.” The smile that spread across his face was menacing as he thrust his hips forward to plunge into her, joining Ominis. Her shriek echoed throughout the room but she was quickly silenced by Sebastian’s tongue delving into her mouth. The pain was unbearable. She gasped loudly as they both began to fuck her, stretching her way beyond her limit, surly something tore from the force of both men being buried deep inside her so quickly. Sebastian moaned loudly as his fangs grazed and pierced her bottom lip. Everything about this moment was too much. Too much aggression, feeding, using her body savagely. This was more than just punishment. They were beyond that now. This was animalistic behavior. Vicious predators devouring and enjoying their helpless prey. There was nothing she could do about it and she hated feeling so weak. She didn’t even have the will to summon her magic. The loss of blood left her utterly exhausted.

Sebastian relinquished his kiss and stared deeply into her eyes. The look on his face made her blood run cold and he gripped her chin between his fingers.

“Promise us! Promise us…you won’t…run away again!” He shouted between their frantic thrusts. Ominis’ whimpering grew louder as he sank himself deeper into her. Sebastian followed closely behind, pressing himself in as far as he could go. Their movements were now in sync with each other and she whined pitifully.

“Promise us, Vivian!” Ominis groaned and his hands slid up her torso to squeeze her breasts. Sebastian’s hands made their way to her hips and all she could do was shake her head slowly. Words escaped her, her mind was focused on this ending, she couldn’t seem to form a proper response. Sebastian glared directly into her eyes as they waited for her answer.

“I—I won’t run a—away again. I promise.” She blurted out with a scratchy voice.

“Good girl! You won’t, never again!” Sebastian growled through gritted teeth, his hips slamming into her in rapid succession. “You feel so fucking good inside her, Omi! So damned perfect!” Sebastian groaned and rested his head in the crook of her neck.

“Seb! I’m—I’m close! I’m gonna…!” Ominis sank his fangs into the other side of her neck as he reached his climax with powerful force, his claws painfully digging into her chest. Sebastian moaned loudly and did the same as he pressed himself into her as far as possible. Their seed mixed together inside her aching core as they filled her up. Some even spilling from her and running down her backside as they rode out their orgasms.

They were in ecstasy but all Vivian could feel was…cold. Her eyelids fluttered as she gazed up at the ceiling. The room became so bright, the light searing her dry pupils, she had to close them for just a moment. Just a moment, she told herself. They continued to feed and she felt free. The cold drained from her ravaged body and was replaced by a soothing warmth that flooded over her. Then …she smiled. She was at peace and it felt like she was floating. There was no more pain, no more confusion, nothing. Was this what death felt like? If so, she welcomed it with open arms.

Things were quiet, as if the world around her had gone completely silent. The warmth she felt still wrapped itself around her but feeling slowly bled back into her tired bones. Vivian twitched, a sure sign of life still hanging on by a thread, her fingers trembled as they slid across something soft and silky. A blanket? Was she in bed? It couldn’t be the one they all shared. This bed felt clean and didn’t smell like Ominis or Sebastian’s scent. She had to force her eyelids to open so she could finally take in her surroundings. Furniture and a dark room started to come into view as she rubbed her dry and irritated eyes. She was in a different bedroom, one that she had come across while exploring the castle, all the way in the west wing of the building. It was a room she had mentioned in conversation before. If she was awake to choose her own room then it would have definitely been this one. A tiny part of her was glad to know that they knew her so well and knew which room she wanted. The majority of her mind was wrapped around what they had done to her. Her stomach twisted and lurched as the memories flooded her mind like a tsunami.

She lifted her arm to bring her fingers to her neck and shuddered. The bite wounds were still there as well as ones on her wrists. They had healed her. She remembered Ominis feeding her his blood. So why was she covered in fresh bites? She slowly peeled the blanket from her body and groaned as every muscle ached in protest. Her brows drew together and she did a double take at her naked body. Her jaw dropped in horror as she saw wound after wound scattered across her figure. Bites on her thighs, breasts, hips, rolling over to see they were even on her arse. A strangled sob escaped her lips and she struggled to sit up. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she delicately touched the marks. Some of them were healed and others were still sore and tender. It made her wonder how long she had been passed out. What they had done to her after she lost consciousness.

They had used her body mercilessly, fed on her as if she were a mere animal, and discarded her in a room on the other side of the castle. She hunched over and brought her head to her knees and it was as if a dam splintered and shattered in her mind and all she could do was weep uncontrollably. She wasn’t sure if it was minutes or hours that passed before she was able to lift her head again and attempt to move. Her back was incredibly stiff as she shifted to stand and lurched forward from the bed with heavy feet. Her body felt like stone as she trudged towards an adjoining door across the room. Grabbing the handle for support, she sighed in relief when she turned the knob and saw her own private bathroom. In the center of the floor was a large square tub, similar to the prefect's bath in Hogwarts, but much smaller. It was a cozy and warm space and was a good enough distraction to take her mind off of her…predicament.

After filling the tub, she sank into the warm water with a moan of relief. The hot and soothing bubbles seemed to wash away any residual pain she was experiencing. She wasn’t sure what time it was, what day, or how many days may have passed. All she knew was that the castle seemed too quiet, like the calm before the storm. Sure it was only the three of them but you usually always heard something. The silence gave her a chance to think and figure out what she had to do next. She needed to focus on herself. Her eyes grew wide as her mind settled on a decision she knew she had to make, one that will devastatingly change things for all of them.

She pulled herself from the tub and quickly dried off before peeking her head out the bathroom door to check that no one was in her room. She styled her hair swiftly and slipped into a nightgown, not really caring how she appeared. She was only determined to get one thing done right now.

She looked around the room and noticed a large trunk sitting in the corner and smiled to herself. She dragged the case into the middle of the area and began rushing around the room, grabbing and folding all of her clothes and placing them in the trunk. She took whatever she could and shoved it all inside the large space. They must have moved her clothes from the bedroom they used to share. This made it easier for her to pack knowing that she didn’t have to enter that room again.

The door suddenly swung open and Sebastian burst into the room excitedly while holding a large book in one hand.

“I’ve found it! The next part of the ritual…” His voice trailed off and his expression dropped to one of shock and confusion when he noticed that Vivian was packing.

“Wh—what are you doing?” He asked as he tossed the book onto her bed and rushed over to try and pull the gown she held from her hands. Ominis entered the room seconds later, mouth agape, to witness Sebastian and Vivian fighting over the dress she was trying to fold and pack away.

“I’m leaving.” She said sternly as she yanked on the fabric and tore it from Sebastian’s hold. She quickly folded the gown and placed it in the trunk before slamming it shut. Sebastian looked utterly shocked and Ominis shook his head wildly, his face growing red.

“This is about the other night. You promised that you wouldn’t leave!” Ominis growled through gritted teeth as he balled his hands into fists.

“No! I promised that I wouldn’t run away again. I never said that I wouldn’t leave!” Vivian scowled as they both stepped closer to her. This time…she didn’t back away. She refused to be pushed around anymore and could feel her rage bubbling under her skin.

“Clever, twisting our words. Vivian…the other night…things were intense. Emotions were running high and we just…lost it. You running away, the punishment, trying to find more information on the ritual, it was all too much. You may not believe us but…we are truly sorry for that night.” Sebastian said softly as he tried to reach for her but she smacked his hands away.

“Don’t fucking touch me! You’re right, I don’t believe that you’re sorry, apologies won’t fix what you have done to me.” She said angrily as she stared them down. “You’re only saying sorry so I help with this ritual. I’m making this very clear. I’ll help get your magic back but afterwards I am done! I’m leaving. You want to stop me? You’ll have to kill me!” She stood her ground as her jaw clenched in fury.

“No. No no no! Vivian, please forgive us, please! We can’t lose you! We’ve lost so much already! Not you too! Please!” Ominis was beside himself as tears spilled from his eyes and Sebastian looked utterly heartbroken and at a loss for words. She shook her head with a scoff as she stepped closer to the men she didn’t recognize anymore.

“You should have thought of that before you did this to me.” She hissed as she held out her arms to showcase all the bite marks that marred her skin. Ominis flinched as if he was struck and Sebastian averted his eyes in shame.

“Vivian…you can’t leave. We’re begging. What can we do to fix this? Please tell us.” Sebastian fidgeted as his hands trembled.

“You—you can let me go.” She said flatly and blinked searing tears from her eyes.

“No! We refuse to do that! Never!” Ominis pushed past Sebastian and tried to grab Vivian and pull her into his arms. What happened next took them all by surprise.

“I said let me go!” She shrieked and a sudden blast of flames flew from her hands, striking Ominis directly in the torso. His body flew across the room and slammed against the wall, his head smacking the stone with a sickening crunch. He slumped forward, unmoving, as the smoke cleared to reveal a massive gushing wound on his stomach. Sebastian rushed to him and knelt by his side and attempted to help Ominis gain consciousness once more. Vivian stood completely frozen in place with her hands covering her mouth in horror.

She had performed wandless and wordless magic. It instinctively surged forward to match her rage and now Ominis was paying for it. She was mad, furious even, but she never meant to brutally harm anyone. Even after everything they had done to her she still couldn’t bring herself to hate them.

Sebastian scooped up Ominis in his arms and gently laid him on Vivian’s bed. He made quick work of his tattered clothes to fully assess the damage to Ominis’ body. Vivian felt as if she could vomit when her eyes landed on the gaping hole covering most of his stomach. The room seemed to spin around her and she grew woozy as Ominis remained perfectly still.

“Viv, get me the potions I need to help him! You know which ones we would use, get them from the other room!” Sebastian shouted but his voice sounded so far away and her feet refused to move. Her heart felt as if it were in her stomach as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I—I didn’t…” she muttered. “I—I killed him.” She cried. “I killed Ominis!”

I am so sorry my Omi girls!😬 This chapter was a doozy!

Also…Merry Christmas if you celebrate!🎄❤️

Tag list: @littletealight @somethingiswrongwithme @wynterjai @dangerousdreamkitty @myrachondria @connorsoddsock @hotcinnamOnspicy @localravenclaw @fym-miso @froggyinaspen @underthenightskydreamsneverdie @moongurl95 @that-supernatural-world @pity-those-who-live-without-love @sevprince-91 @helendeath @felixthemochicat Thank you all & If you would like to be tagged, just let me know. If I have missed anyone in the tag list, please comment & let me know.

[libartz]

Tavified and Dark Urged Zebulon

Made him a devotion paladin because it fits with his original Elder Scrolls backstory, but he's also from the Underdark so I'm not entirely sure how he found a Lawful knightly order in what appears to be Chaotic land. Anyway he’s gonna date Wyll and be angsty about it which is on-brand for him, and will again (attempt to) be much nicer than he appears

[wickedhawtwexler]

i swear my mother and i have some kind of psychic link. she can just sense when i'm having a bad time, even when we aren't talking, and thinks to herself "hmm, i should make this worse"

[luveline]

𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want? [3k] 

fem!reader, shy!reader, implied inexpereinced!reader, friends-to-lovers, pining, mdni heavy petting, hickeys, lots of hickeys, marking up, neck kissing, shoulder kissing, heat of the moment confessions, eddie being flirty but also a good friend, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie strokes down the length of his guitar neck almost tenderly. You're focused on his hands rather than his mouth as he recounts last night's date to you, distracted by the deft movement of his fingers, which aren't exactly small. It's an oxymoron —paradoxical, even— that his thick fingers would move with such gentle precision. 

You shift around where you're sitting on his bedroom floor, criss-cross applesauce with an uncomfortable heat rising from the bottomless pit of your stomach to your tight collar. The white button up you'd worn under your sweater vest is a size too small. You're really starting to notice. 

You peel out of the vest and hope it'll help you calm down.

"She wasn't exactly sweet," Eddie says, plucking a string, listening to the sound, and tuning it this way or that depending on how he liked it. "I think she wanted to get it over with, which isn't really my thing. She was in my lap before I could make it clear I wasn't interested in anything quick." 

You lift your gaze from his hands. He must feel you watching his face. He looks up in tandem and smiles reassuringly. "It's fine. I kind of thought she was getting into it, she was like a vampire on me at one point, but I wasn't feeling it and it's clear she wasn't either. Drove her home. How was your night, d'you watch that tape?" 

You trace the coil of a black curl down to his shoulder, and can't force yourself to meet his eyes as you ask, "A vampire?" 

"What?" 

"She was like a vampire at one point, you said." Eddie's arm goes still. "What did you mean by that?" you ask.

He puts his guitar down on the floor. You worry you've said something truly dull for him to place his sweetheart in such a rush, but Eddie's like that. He can tell you're embarrassed no doubt, and he's giving you the answer to your question as swiftly as he can to soothe the wound. 

"Here, look," he says. He pushes his hair away from his neck on one side and tilts his head, bearing a wine-stained curve of skin to you unabashedly. "She kissed me. She gave me a hickey, used a lot of teeth. That's why it's bruised so much on the edges." 

Warmth you've never felt rushes in, like your blood has superheated, and it's written on your face. Eddie's room feels suddenly a thousand times smaller than before and more intimate, his poster wallpaper curving in, the space between you inching closer. 

"Sorry," he says, "I know it's kind of weird to show you." 

"No, I'm sorry," you say, mortified. "I shouldn't have asked you." 

"Yeah, you should. You didn't get it and now you do. I don't mind telling you." 

Eddie lets his hair fall back against his neck, a kinky curtain that looks ridiculously soft in the orangey light of his lamp. There's a butter smoothness to it, and the way he moves as he does is worse, his hand open and reaching for you. He doesn't hold your hand, doesn't even try, just lets his upturned palm hang off the edge of his knee as if to say, Ask me whatever it is you want to ask me. It's cool. 

"Why would she do that?" you ask, gesturing to your neck.

"It's not her fault, I was flirting with her a ton trying to make it work."

"Not like that." 

Eddie's hand turns toward his knee. "Like what?" 

Your hand drifts to your own neck absentmindedly. You get kissing, wanting to be kissed and wanting to give them. You understand why she kissed his neck; if you'd been in her position, alone in the car with Eddie laying his charm on thick, you might climb the console and push aside his hair too. 

"I know why she kissed you. I don't see why she…" You rub your lips together, your embarrassment turning sharp. You hate how humiliating this feels. "I know what a hickey is, Eds, but why would you want one?" 

His turn to fluster. The tiniest tinge of pink paints his cheeks. "Are you asking me why I enjoyed it?" 

"Did you?" 

You despise yourself, truly. Worse when Eddie laughs, his chest forward, hair falling in his face as he chuckles sincerely. 

"Yeah," he says, smiling at you "I liked it. Before she started trying to kill me I was having a good time." 

He doesn't put you through the agony of asking what you both know he wants to. 

You've never had one?

"It feels warm, and it's– you know how being kissed gives you butterflies, right? It's better than that. It's hot, and all her weight is on you and you have your hand on her back trying to pull her in, and she's as close as she can be without, you know." Something flickers across Eddie's face. Not longing, but a remembered pleasure. It makes you squirm. 

"I don't see how it doesn't just hurt." 

The hand that hadn't been reaching for you holds a pick. He flashes it between his fingers, a party trick, a nervous tic, his eyelashes tangling together as his eyelids inch closed. He scrunches his face up for a second. 

"Don't hate me if I ask you something weird," Eddie says, eyes shut tight. 

You don't think you could. You watch Eddie's face, knowing he can't see your analysis, and feel a shock of pins and needles in your hands when his eyes open and immediately lock on to yours. 

"Do you want me to give you one?" he asks. 

Your lips feel like they've been glued shut. You're aware of your breathing, how shallow each inhale has become, but you can't do anything about it. 

He has the decency to acknowledge what position his question puts you in, "I know it might be weird but I can't describe it to you if you don't know what it feels like." 

You surprise him. You surprise yourself. "Uh, yeah. Okay." 

"Yeah?" 

"It doesn't hurt?" 

"Not unless you want it to." A hint of a smirk plays on his lips, though it fades quickly. "It doesn't hurt. That's not the point. But it can feel… foreign." 

You nod jerkily, wishing you knew what to do. 

The atmosphere is thick enough to cut through. Neither of you like it. Eddie gives you another type of smile, a familiar one that says, I'm your best friend, I always will be, so please chill out. 

"You're gonna have to sit in my lap." 

You actually laugh. "Eddie," you chastise, thinking it's a bad joke. 

"Sorry, sweetheart, but it's that or the bed." His teasing tone is light, but he still adds, "I mean, we can do it sitting next to each other but it's difficult. Whatever you want, though." 

You climb up on your knees. You're shy, absolutely, you always will be and especially when Eddie's teasing, but he really is your best friend, and the bed isn't happening.

He doesn't scare you. 

He grins and ushers you toward him. "Alright, come here." He tugs one of your thighs over his lap and your breath catches. He grabs the other and any laughter between you abruptly dies. 

You settle over his lap with an expression not far from pained. Eddie's hands rest against your thigh and your hip. He has to look up at you now, and he does as he encourages your weight firmly downward. You're more than conscious of where you're positioned. 

"Do me a favour?" he asks. 

"Yeah." You put your hand on his chest tentatively. 

"Don't suffer through it if you hate it, okay? All you have to do is say something and I'll stop, but if you feel like you can't, a good right hook would work too." 

"I'm not gonna hurt you," you protest. 

"Me neither," he says. His hand lifts from your thigh to your neck, and he brushes his fingertips down the curve of it ineffectually. It would feel good if you weren't choking on air. "Relax, sweetheart. Please." 

"I'm really warm." 

"Your shirt's too tight anyway," he says, hand at your collar. He thumbs open your top button, a second, and exposes the flat of your chest. His fingers slide across your neck as he folds back your starched collar. They're cool compared to the raging heat he finds there. 

You take a deep breath. 

"You could put your hands in my hair," he says. Wishful thinking has hope colouring his tone. 

You put your hands on his shoulders. The very tips of your fingers partition his curls. 

He raises an arm above your mess of limbs to weave a hand behind your ear. It's then that you feel his callouses, so rough against the delicate skin of your scalp. Despite their texture, you find it feels good. He tucks his hand in tight, and slowly, slowly turns your head to the side. 

"Look up," he murmurs. 

You lift your head and stare at the ceiling with widened eyes. 

He can't know but he does, and he says, "Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.  

You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Eddie kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake. 

This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair. 

It tugs him forward. He reads your hands for enthusiasm, and if it is or isn't he pulls you closer still and opens his mouth against your skin. His teeth are impossible to ignore. 

Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight. 

He doesn't stop kissing you, only grabs your wrist to stop you from choking him out. You make a sound you've never made with him before, a mewl, all breathless and teary as the sensation worsens. Which is to say, betters. 

He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face. 

"Why does it feel like that?" you ask. 

He drops his head, his nose level with your chin. "I don't know," he says, punctuating with a kiss right there, the closest bit of skin he can find. "Want me to do it again?" 

You swallow and he must see it. He says nothing, wrapping his arms around your waist as he waits for you to respond. Your stomach pushes into his, your arms braced on his shoulder so you don't collapse into his front, limp with touch. 

"Sweetheart, can I do it again?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say, quiet but enthusiastic. "Please." 

He's slower this time. Eddie leans into your neck and doesn't kiss you at first, his lips so close to your skin that you can feel their phantom. You skin tingles from his previous scandalising, and it doesn't beg, skin can't beg, but you can, you curl your arm behind his neck and hook his head there, crushing his hair to the crook of your arm. He doesn't take much convincing beyond that. His lips smush against your neck and you feel every millimetre as they part, heat and warmth and wet spreading like budding flowers come to bloom. You melt into him soon after, and Eddie takes your weight in stride, hand at the small of your back and pulling you in so hard you can feel his ribs. 

When you think you're used to it —not used to it, but expecting what can be expected— Eddie nips you. Tiny dainty kisses broken up with a nibbling you'd couldn't describe as anything but playful. He laughs at your gasping and does it again, again, giddy hot laughter mixed with one of the strangest feelings you've ever been subjected to. You're molten. You're dizzy with it.

Eddie pulls back enough to ask, "I'm gonna undo another button, okay? Just one. Is that alright?" 

"What for?" 

"So I can kiss your shoulder. Just your shoulder." He sounds pleading, desperately excited in a way you've never heard him and you want to know what it'll feel like, so you let him. 

This next button unveils the top of your bra and the soft hills of your breasts. He doesn't look, barely glances at his hand as he tugs your shirts down your arm, diving into the juncture of your neck like he needs it to breathe. His kisses are proper compared to some of the stuff he's been doing, but then he opens his mouth and the flat of his tongue wets your skin as he kisses kisses kisses down your shoulder. His hand is somewhere under your shirt, fingers slipped under your bra strap and pulling teasingly at the elastic as he eases you down in his arms. You're shorter than him where you'd started taller, totally compressed in his arms and at his mercy.

When he pulls back, the slimmest ribbon of spit shines between your shoulder and his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, his eyes glassy, and that hand cups your face. He pretty much grabs you, but there's not a lick of cruelty in his touch. Eddie's rough. Never cruel. 

"You're on fire," he says. It's objective rather than joking. "You're so hot. Do you want to stop?" 

"Not– not unless you want to," you say, trying to quieten your breathing. You sound like you've run a marathon. It feels like it. 

"I'm gonna give you a real one, cool?" 

"I didn't know they weren't real." 

"Oh, sweetheart," he says, and his eyes are damning, a loving pity in the black of his blown pupils, "I was just warming you up." 

Your mind blanks. 

"Make sure I can hide it," you say. 

You aren't thinking straight, concerned about hiding his hickeys but not what this means for the two of you. His unexpected hunger, and your willingness to let him eat you whole. 

"I don't think you can hide it anymore," he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

You look down at his lips. They're rosy, swollen from the pressure.

He sees you looking. 

He yanks you in by the waist and sizes you up, almost, like he's calling your bluff, not spiteful but something mean about him as he stares at your mouth in return. 

Like he doesn't want you to make the mistake. Like he knows you won't. 

His hand tips your chin up high and he ducks his own down. An inch and you'd be kissing. That's all it would take.

"Is that really what you want?" he asks.

"I don't know," you say. Is it what he wants?

It has to be. 

"Have you wanted to, before?" He draws a line down your cheek with his marriage finger. Fast as a heavy tear. "You want me to kiss you?" 

"Yeah," you whisper, trying to make sense of this, your sudden confession, a secret want pushed into the light. 

Eddie turns his hand and strokes down your cheek with the back of it, pushing any dampened baby hairs away from your skin. His gaze softens. 

"Was that so hard?" he asks. 

"You knew?"

He kisses you. He's smiling, and he doesn't take just one. He must kiss you four or five times, your lips parted enough to know he could push it further if he wanted, but he doesn't. These kisses are unhurried, missing the ravenous passion of his hickeying but not the fondness. 

"You don't know how hard it is," he says after he's broken away, his forehead tipped against yours, "how hard it is to have someone look at you like you look at me everyday, like I'm something you can't have." 

"I didn't know–" you knew. You felt the same. His kissing is evidence alone. it's confessional.

"I know. Guess I thought nothing good would come of it, but– but I don't want good. I want you." 

He pulls back quickly, like you've said something confessional rather than him. He surprised himself. 

"I'm not good?" you ask. 

"You're good. You'll ruin me, that's all." 

You don't have time to ask him what he means by that. He kisses you again, kisses your cheek, draws a line of crescent moons down along your neck to the mess he's made of you. He kisses– he sucks your neck so hard, so sudden, that goosebumps erupt and you can't stop yourself from saying, "Ohh," as you cling to his shoulders. 

This is the vampire thing he'd talked about, the points of his teeth stark against your skin even now. There's another layer of vulnerability unveiled here, knowing that he could really hurt you and knowing he never would. He kisses you until you're overwhelmed by him. Heat everywhere. Sweat shining on your skin. You don't want anything else but this.

You squeak as the pressure turns from pleasurable to too much. Eddie hears the pain in it and pulls away, instantly sorry and willing to prove it, his hands cradling your face. 

You pant. He shushes you gently.

"Sorry, baby." He pets your cheeks. 

Your head falls back, too heavy on your sore neck. You feel wiped. 

Wiped, but good. Lax. 

"That was nice," you say breathlessly. 

Eddie sits up and drags you with him, hand behind your neck to prop you up. He's laughing again, his awful sweet laugh that you've heard a thousand times before. It never fails to make you smile. 

"You're like a dead fish." 

You cover an eye with your hand. "I take it the romance is over." 

"You thought that was romantic? Babe, I'm only getting started." 

Eddie gives you a quick peck. Where his hickey had felt like the heart of a star growing hotter with each passing second, his smaller kiss feels like the sun through blinds, a dappling of warmth. 

"Are you messing with me?" you ask.

He pushes his arms over your shoulders for a hug. 

"No. Not messing with you." His nose rubs against the shell of your ear. "It's about time we talked." 

You let your hand drift down the dip of his back.

"Okay," you mumble. Talking. You need to talk about whatever it is that just happened. 

"...Maybe I'll get you a glass of water first," he adds.

"That's a good idea." 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please consider letting me know/reblogging, it means the world to me and makes a big difference!! ♡ NOTE: Eddie def pines back if that isn't fully clear, I tried to imply it with his date where he could've hooked up with someone but didn't go through with it, it was cos he's too in lurve

[stvrnioloslvt]

quiet - Chris Sturniolo

fratboy!chris × jealous!reader

(dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

disclaimer: the following content is not suitable for an underage audience. please, if you are a minor do not interact in any way or form. thank you. check the trigger warning before reading, enjoy!

t.w: inappropriate language, unprotected sex (don't), a tiny bit of degrading language, jealousy, alcohol, I think nothing more.

a.n: soo...i'm impatient. i had planned to post this story on the 31st, once the poll ended, but i really don't like to wait that much. however, the results are clear: chris smut won with the 52.9%!

when you spot your boyfriend chris flirting with another girl at the Halloween party, you decide to take the matter in your hands and make him jealous thanks to matt. what you don't know, is that chris is keeping a close eye on you.

“i really don’t wanna go to this stupid party, nick.”

“i know, but you know what?” nick put his hands on my shoulders, a gentle yet firm grip. he looked at me in the eyes, then said “at least you look hot as fuck, and that’s all that matters. walk through those doors as if your pussy is made out of gold, and see what happens.”

i smiled at my best friend. with new-found confidence, i walked towards the doors, swaying my hips in my skimpy DCC cheerleaders white shorts that left nothing to the imagination. nick followed right through, adjusting the fake fangs in his mouth. he was one hell of a hot vampire. 

as we entered the halloween-decorated fraternity of our college, we were immediately pulled aside by matt, who was waiting for us right at the entrance. blue and purple lights caressed his face, creating weird shadows all around.

“fuckin’ finally! what took you so long?”

“are your eyes actually open? don’t you see how hot we both look? good things are always the last to arrive.” i chuckled as nick pulled me in a side hug to prove a point to his brother.

i eyed matt up and down one last time. even in the weird colored lights, i noticed that something was off. “wait, why aren’t you dressed up?” 

“cause i’m getting the fuck out of here, i was waiting for you two just because i don’t want to leave chris here under the influence without one of us to check on him.”

“he’s already drunk?”

“yeah, you surprised?”

i looked around, trying to find that dumb-fuck, with no luck. 

“c’mon, let’s get the party started!” nick grabbed my hand, pushing through the crowd of sweaty and dressed up people to get us to the drinks.

“do you want to drink anything?” he screamed loud enough for me to understand him over the blasting music. i shook my head, still trying to find chris. i picked at my skin, worry eating me alive: where the fuck was he? he was drunk, what if he did something stupid, or worse, dangerous?

then, i spotted him: hidden in the corner of the room with some random girl, running his hand through his hair held back by the headband of his basketball player costume. she was talking about something, and i could see clearly the strand of blonde hair that he was playing with twirling in his hand as he leaned on the wall, with the cocky grin of someone who believes that he has the world at his feet.

i felt a wave of nausea hit me, hands shaking by my sides. 

nick followed my gaze, spotting his brother. his hand stopped midway, the red cup never reaching his lips. “no way…” he whispered. weirdly enough, i heard that. 

just as i was ready to leave everything and get the fuck out of there, nick stopped me.

“let me go, nick, i don’t want to spend another second here.”

“absolutely not.”

“nick, please.” tears pricked at my eyes, making it hard for me to keep them back.

“i can bet you a hundred bucks right now that he’s trying to work you up. two can play that stupid game, y/n, and you've got plenty of people who've been eyeing you up and down since we arrived. go out there and get him back."

i took a napkin, drying my tears before they could fall and ruin my makeup.

an idea popped up in my mind. i turned towards the door, spotting matt, ready to leave.

"nick, quick, how mean would it be if i took revenge with matt?"

"honestly? a lot", he begun, pulling out his phone, dialling matt's number. "but you know what? i support women's rights as well as women's wrongs. go do your thing, baby."

we watched as matt picked up the phone, turning towards us. nick told him to come to us before he left, and so he did.

"matt, go and dance with y/n. don't ask questions, we'll explain everything later."

matt looked at me with a puzzled look on his face, but he didn't complain when i pulled him through the crowd, right in the middle of the room.

"i'm sorry, matt, just a little payback to your dumb brother."

i briefly explained to him what happened, what we saw, and nick's idea, so that he knew what was actually happening.

"you know what? i need a tiny bit of alcohol in me, then we can truly give chris payback."

i watched as one of his friends brought him a red cup. he gulped it down, waiting for the alcohol to hit.

and when it did, we had the best night ever: we laughed, danced, twirled together. soon enough, everyone's eyes were on us, some were judging, others having fun with us. at a certain point i might have drunk something too, cause i found myself grinding against matt. and god knows how private we actually are around each other in our daily life.

i felt matt's hands travelling up my sides, pushing his hips against mine, making me feel his erection. i threw my head back against his shoulder as he placed wet kisses down my neck, hands squeezing me closer to him. soft breaths came out of my parted lips, losing myself in the moment: maybe it was the alcohol, or the music, or the knowledge that everyone does some dumb shit during halloween night and then act the next day like nothing happened, but i had a strong urge to grab him and kiss him, to feel his lips dance on mine, our bodies so close one another that they physically couldn't get closer.

just as i turned around, intoxicated enough to actually kiss him, a strong hand pulled me away from my friend.

"wha-" i turned around, welcomed by the sight of a pissed off chris: jaw clenched, eyes fixed on a spot in front of him, dragging me around the room, elbowing whoever dared to step in front of him.

i tried to free myself from his grip, pulling and tugging with all my might, but he didn't even bulge a tiny bit. "where the fuck do you think you are taking me-"

"quiet."

"chris i swear-"

"shut the fuck up," he growled. he dragged me up the stairs, stopping in front of a door. he opened it and pushed me inside.

he locked the door behind me, pushing me against it. his lips immediately found mine, kissing me roughly. it was an angry kiss, a forceful one. it was screaming vendetta, jealousy, hurt.

i tugged at his hair as his tongue made its way in my mouth. his hands gripped my hips, so hard that i was sure they would leave marks. he hooked his hand under my knee, pushing my leg up and around his waist. i tiptoed with the other leg, trying to gain a bit of height.

chris pressed his erection right against my pussy, grinding slightly to tease me.

"chris," i moaned, every little noise swallowed by his lips.

"such a whore," he growled, lifting me up. both my legs wrapped around his waist to steady myself, as my back hit the door behind me. from this new position, i could feel his tip pushing right at my entrance.

"you really had to go all out and fuck my brother, didn't you? such a needy slut."

"the only slut here is you, flirting with that little friend of yours."

he snorted, clearly pissed off at my comeback.

"you really have no idea of what is coming, ma."

chills ran down my spine at that threat, at his dark voice and blown out pupils. he had the look of someone ready to eat you alive, and that was probably his intent.

"how pathetic," he mumbled before ripping apart the tight fabric of my shorts, leaving me completely bare.

i gasped, trying to pull away. "my shorts!"

"oh please," he started, "they were covering nothing. you could walk out there like this and no one would notice the difference."

he pressed me harder against the door as he pulled down his pants, just enough for his dick to spring out.

"hope matt got you wet enough," he chuckled ironically, then pushed himself right in, to the brim.

a chocked out moan left my lips, as chris started thrusting fast and hard inside me.

"oh chris- fuck."

"yeah? feels good? bet matt couldn't fuck you like i do."

i threw my head against the door while i clawed at his back, his jersey stopping me from leaving marks all over his back.

"ngh- so big, chris...please," i whimpered, trying to adjust to his size and rhythm. chris's lips attached to my neck, leaving kisses all around. as his mouth travelled down to my cleavage, he started to bite and nip at my skin, making sure that it would bruise.

"fuck-," he pulled out, quickly putting me down and bending me over the desk right by the door. whose room was that, again?

he pushed himself right in again, gripping my hips. he pounded into me so hard that the desk was banging against the wall with every thrust.

the room filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together, moans and groans as the music resonated faintly.

"such- a whore, fuck!" i felt him shudder; his hand flew quickly at the base of his cock, squeezing slightly to prevent himself from cumming yet.

"you're fuckin'mine, got that? mine."

one hand grabbed my asscheek, slapping it right after. and then again, and again, until i was left trembling and crying, overstimulated from the pleasure and pain that he was inflicting me.

his thrusts grew sloppy and unsteady as he approached his release. "chris, please, please, i wanna cum so bad" i sniffled, gripping the desk until my knuckles turned white to ground myself.

"no."

"please-"

"you can hold it. you're not cumming until i tell you to."

i bit my hand lightly, trying to focus on his orders. but it was just so hard, and he was fucking me just so good, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, that i knew i couldn't last for much longer.

a low guttural moan escaped from chris's lips as my walls clenched around him hard, pushing both of us even closer to our orgasms.

with a particular deep thrust, he tipped over the edge, spilling inside me, filling me with his hot cum. he groaned relieved as he thrusted slow and soft inside me, riding the waves of his climax.

i screamed, unable to contain my orgasm anymore, shaking as i came down from my high. i whimpered, laying down on the desk, the cool wood making me shiver all around.

"good job, ma," he whispered, stroking my back and kissing my shoulder. "such a good girl f'me, hm?"

his arms wrapped around my waist, helping me up. i leaned into him, grabbing his jersey for support.

"was i too rough?" i shook my head, leaning back to look at him in the eyes. a question bursted out, unable to stay put anymore.

"who was that girl?" chris looked taken back by the sudden question, but he had no problem answering. he shrugged, "i have no idea, i just wanted to work you up. you always give your best with angry sex."

i looked at him flabbergasted, ready to actually pick up a fight. "chris i swear-"

"shush mamas, let's get you something to actually cover up, hm? don't wanna go out there covered in marks and with no pants on, right?"

「 ★ ★ ★ 」

yk what i should fly to the USA just to experience Halloween the American way, that shit seems so much fun i swear.

hope you enjoyed it! happy, spooky Halloween everyone!

love y'all,

-bree🎃🦇

MASTERLIST

[hairmetal666]

Eddie survived the Upside Down. The bats. Vecna. And after the hospital, the town recovery, the shady government agencies clearing his name, after all of that, he has the best year and a half of his life. A lot of it is due to Steve and Robin. Well. The whole group of them, really, but Harrington and Buckley specifically.

Except that, you know, he survived extra-dimensional horrors and now he's going to die anyway, brought down in his prime by his devastating crush on Steve Harrington.

It's a stupid way to meet his end. Even worse than going at the hands of a demented telepathic wizard named after a DnD monster. Though...it's not like he didn't see the crush coming a mile away. Eddie may not have any practical experience in matters of the heart, but he knows he likes a pretty boy and Steve is the prettiest of them all.

There is no dimension where his feelings are requited, so he flirts and he pines, and knows it means nothing when Steve matches him quip for quip, touch for touch. He keeps getting himself in these situations where he thinks--maybe--but Steve is straight, constantly goes out with pretty, bubbly girls.

The pining may kill him, but he's determined to leave this world with a little bit of grace.

Until Steve's Halloween party.

It's a whole thing. All the kids, the rest of their own group of young adults, plus the Hellfire Boys, and the actual adults. It's a weird mix, but Eddie figures that, well. It's a family thing.

Halloween is his favorite holiday, one he plans for all year, but this year he decides to take it easy, electing to do a take on the vampire gang from The Lost Boys. The party is in full swing when they walk in, Wayne quickly spotting Hopper and making his way to the kitchen, but Eddie doesn't see Steve in the chaos of kids and Jonathan and Argyle's dual Frankensteins.

He grabs a beer from Robin who keeps giving him this look all knowing and sparkling and he doesn't understand it, not until he hears delighted laughter and shouts in the main room.

Buckley squeezes past him, and he takes the moment alone to close his eyes, brace for whatever fresh, unwitting, torture Steve has in store for him tonight.

He steps into the living room and time freezes.

Steve's in the shortest shorts Eddie's ever seen, thick, muscular, bitable thighs on full display. He's wearing a pink sweatshirt, neon fingerless gloves that very distantly Eddie recognizes as belonging to El, and gold hoop earrings in both ears.

Eddie has to sit down.

Wham! Isn't his kind of music, and he finds George Michael grating because of it, but--he's seen men dressed like that in magazines he steals from bookstores in Indianapolis, had wondered if George Michael was gay too. And now here Steve is, looking like a fantasy ripped direct from Eddie's brain.

Before he can make an escape, someone turns on the Monster Mash. The two Frankenstein's lurch into the room and start dancing. The rest of them are quick to follow, even Wayne and Hopper, after some light cajoling from Joyce, Max, and El.

It's silly fun, the perfect way for Eddie to forget about Steve and the way his ass looked in those shorts. They dance and goof around, and Thriller comes on, so they all try to do the dance, him and Nancy laughing until their stomachs hurt with their stiff-limbed moves.

The song switches to Material Girl, making El and Max screech, and the next thing he knows, Steve is in front of him, shimmying along. It's the closest they've been all night and now Eddie can see the faint eyeliner smudged along Steve's lash line. Something low and hot tightens in his core.

Steve grabs his shoulders, pulls Eddie closer. "C'mon, Munson, even you have to dance to Madonna!"

He laughs through his breathlessness, can't believe he and Steve are dancing together, not with Steve looking like that, somehow innocent, sexy, and ripe all at once.

Their eyes meet and Steve smiles all slow and dangerous, knotting up Eddie's stomach with a wild kind of anticipation. He doesn't have time to stop himself feeling it, can only give himself over to the shrinking distance between their bodies, the way Steve is warm and muscular against him.

Eddie's not hearing the music anymore, unaware of all their friends dancing close by. He's hypnotized by the dark heat in Steve's hazel eyes, lets himself clutch at Steve's hip, drag their bodies together. He feels Steve's breath escape in a quick burst, and it's a crash of cold water.

He disentangles himself, rushes out the patio doors. The night air is bracing as it chills his heated skin, his burning lungs. He takes a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, lighting it with a shaking hand.

That was too much. He let himself feel too much; want too much. Got swept away by Steve in makeup and earrings and tiny shorts. On the street, he hears children laughing, music thumping from a passing car, tries to get lost in that instead of his embarrassment. It makes him miss the slide of the patio door opening again. Doesn't realize he's not alone until he hears Steve say, "Eddie? You okay?"

He nods, but doesn't turn. "Just needed some air." He lifts the smoldering embers of his cigarette before dropping it and stomping it out.

Steve stands close enough that their shoulders bump. Eddie forces himself not to flinch away. "What are you doing out here? You'll freeze." It's not all a deflection.

"I'm fine," Steve says. "Sweatshirt." He wiggles the sleeve in Eddie's face.

"Yeah, but your legs, man. C'mon." He pulls his jacket off his shoulders. "At least cover them up a little."

Steve gives him an annoyed smile, but takes the jacket, trying to settle the leather around his legs. It's kind of a losing battle, but it makes them both laugh.

"I'm sorry," Steve says. "For back there. I shouldn't have pushed."

"Pushed?" Eddie feels like he missed a couple of stairs on his way down. "You didn't--"

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I did, Eddie. And Robin said," he sighs. "Robin said to just talk to you but I'm shit with words, so."

"So?" He faces Steve now, completely perplexed about where this is going. "I'm the one who pushed too far."

"Of course you didn't." Steve laughs a little. "I wanted to dance with you. I wanted to be close to you."

Eddie takes a step back, nervous smile on his face. "Is this some kind of weird joke?"

"What? No! Why would it be? I'm trying to say that I like you, man."

"Wha--But you're--"

"Don't--don't say popular or a jock or any of that. I'm--you know who I am, Eddie, better than most people."

"I was going to say straight."

Steve stills, blinking. "I told you I was bisexual."

"You did not!" Eddie yelps.

"I did! After went to see The Lost Boys!" He grabs Eddie's leather jacket. "I said I thought Kiefer Sutherland was sexy!"

"I thought you were being hyperbolic!"

"I wore this for you!" Steve wiggles his naked calf in Eddie's face.

"I don't like even like Wham!"

"You stared at a picture of George Michael in this outfit in one of El's Teen Beats for fifteen minutes!"

"I did NOT!" Except now that Steve's said it, Eddie has a pretty good memory of doing that very thing. "Wait. You were trying to seduce me by dressing as George Michael?"

"Like you weren't doing the same with the whole hot vampire biker thing?"

"I didn't expect it to work!"

He doesn't--will never--know who closes the distance first, but they crash together in a clash of mouths and teeth and noses. Steve's hands fist into Eddie's t-shirt, Eddie yanking at Steve's belt loops, until nothing separates them.

The kiss breaks as Steve mouths along his jaw, down his neck, and Eddie's fucking helpless at the turn of events. Never in his wildest fantasies--

"Stay tonight?" Steve asks, voice muffled against Eddie's skin.

"Are you kidding, sweetheart? I'm going to tear these shorts off with my teeth."

[neckromantics]

Can we please talk about how often vampires are seen having infatuations with the living, simply because they’re… well, living? How Astarion's vampiric nature would have him frequently mesmerized by just how alive you are??

Pt1.

(nsfw warning. oops. It's mostly fluff tho. there is kinda breathplay in this. i didn't mean to, but-)

Astarion who, smitten as he is, rests his head against your chest during one of your regular lazy morning cuddles. He’s not so covertly listening in on the pounding of your heart. Bare skin sensitive to every brush of his fingertips as he traces them up and down the softness of your side, tapping along to each solid thud as it beats away for him. You try not to squirm too much in fear of jostling him out of whatever dreamlike state he’s fallen into, but you’ve no need to worry. Your soft breathing—the subsequent rise and fall of your belly— is only lulling him further and further into that rare state of tranquility.

After a while, he’ll relocate a little further down. One pointed ear presses tight to the tender skin of your ribs as he seeks to be even closer to the sound, and this time, you can’t stop yourself from squirming. It’s his hair that does you in. The pale curls at the back of his neck are so silky soft against your flesh that it just about tickles, and the goosebumps that start to crawl their way up your arms only get worse each time he readjusts. He sounds so drowsy when he shushes your giggles, and when you insist you can’t help it, that it's his fault, he shushes you a second time. As if the sound of your laughter isn’t precious to him all on its own.

Astarion, who often finds himself with his lips to your pulse point without really knowing how he got there. You’ll be sat by the fire having idle chit-chat, and the next thing you know, he’s pulling your joined hands up toward his mouth as it’s your turn to speak. The first time it’d happened, you thought maybe he wanted a bit of a snack or something (not that he’s really ever done so without asking, first. Even though you’ve said about one thousand times that the offer is always on the table), but when you turned to glance at him, there wasn’t an ounce of hunger in those ruby eyes of his. He was listening to you as intently as always. Even nodded to encourage you when your sentence trailed off a bit in your confusion.

You’re not entirely sure he knows he’s doing it, or why he’s doing it for that matter, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

There’s a general warmth radiating from you that, despite Astarion’s best efforts in the past, he’s always been magnetized to. But here? Where his mouth stays poised? It’s a heat like nothing else. The steady pulse of blood—of life—calls out to him like a siren song, and while the hunger is there (will always be there), there is also something else. Something more, perhaps? A feeling he can’t quite put a name to. It’s a comfort, maybe. An assurance, he reasons to himself. That steady thump of life beneath his lips is proof enough that you’re still here with him.

Anyway.

Conversations continue without a hitch now-a-days, despite his voice being a little more than muffled with his lips jammed against whatever pulse point he can find. But, you don’t mind because while you can’t see him smiling, you sure can feel it.

Astarion, who gets struck with such a strange, desperate need to feel your breath that he has to lift his hand to your lips as he sinks deep into your warmth. Mouth half-open from your previous slack-jawed whining, not even a moment passes before you’re pressing sloppy, wet kisses to the cool skin he’s offered up to you, lids heavy with lust as you try and fail to keep your eyes focused on your lover. It still baffles him how you never miss a beat—not with him, anyway—not even when he’s got the entire bottom half of your face cupped beneath a firm hand.

His own mouth can't stop exploring every inch of flesh it can reach. He says your name but it sounds more like a thank you, fangs pricking against the inside of the arm you've got wrapped around his neck as your heels dig into the meat of his ass to nudge him forward still. Your fingers curl into his hair, getting a good handful that you'd never dare to pull. It's a gentle guiding that drives him mad—the way you herd him ever closer with such a tender touch—as if he isn't pinning you into the mattress with the majority of his weight already.

While his breaths are unneeded, they quickly match pace with the ones you’re puffing against his hand. Hitching into a gasp that he can’t think to contain when your moaning sends vibrations all the way up to his elbow. Your quick gulps of air stutter beneath him as the two of you get your bearings, and your next exhale is so sharp as his hips jerk against yours that it practically whistles out between the spaces of his fingers.

Astarion doesn't think he's ever heard anything more perfect in all his undeath.

(Me quietly to myself: what kind of kink is this.)

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Releasing The Noctwind Brothers

Yandere Twin Vampire Brothers x Gender Neutral Human Turned Vampire Reader CW: Incest between the vampire brothers, mildly dubious consent, intoxication, reader initiated sex, threesome, spit as lube, cum as lube, biting, blood sucking, forced to drink blood, forced to turn into a vampire, bullying, bully gets killed, beating, reader has temporarily broken bones, temporary injury, overprotective yanderes, general yandere behavior, twin yanderes, surprisingly whole ending, surprisingly happy ending Word Count: 3.3k (I know this kind of fic isn't for everyone between the violence the bully receives and the incest, but I hope a lot of people like it anyway. I worked very hard. Also yes, this is a repost because the original had an accidentally gendered pronoun. I apologize if anyone read that and experienced dysphoria.)

You had made a mistake. One that would, soon enough, prove to be a fatal one. Not just for you.

In your haste to start a task you had as one of the town’s carpenters you had turned a corner and ran right into the town brute himself, Jorry. Running into him, at any time, could result in a punch from his large meaty fists, but he had been carrying eggs freshly laid from his hens. This resulted in egg yolk covering an outraged Jorry.

Jorry had bullied you for as long as you could remember, he and his friends pummeling you whenever you happened upon them while he was in a bad mood. Or in any mood really. He just really liked using you as a punching bag. Most people left such behavior in childhood, but not Jorry.

You wasted no time at all in fleeing upon seeing who you had ran into. You weren’t quite in the mood to be nursing a broken nose that day. Luckily he had to wipe egg goop out of his eyes and that gave you some crucial extra seconds to make yourself scarce.

Despite making it a good way out of your village, the angered Jorry pursued you. He was nothing if not persistent. You hesitated a bit, but decided your only hope was to flee into the cave that everyone in all the nearby villages were terrified of. No one could remember the truth of the matter, but it had long been forbidden to enter. Many superstitious folks wouldn’t even travel within viewing distance of it.

You did not put much faith in superstition though, and no matter what was in there it couldn’t be worse than how badly Jorry would beat you if he caught up to you. If you had just taken your punishment in town someone would have happened by or heard your screams and he wouldn’t have been able to do nearly as much as he would all the way out here.

Again, a truly fatal miscalculation. You damn fool.

Hoping that you were safe in the cave you crouched in the shadows. But, while absurdly violent, your pursuer was not particularly dimwitted. He pretty quickly surmised that the cave was the logical place for you to have gone. You heard him scream and call for you in the distance.

The only chance to avoid the beating of your lifetime was to retreat farther into the cave. You crept back as silently as humanly possibly. When you went as far back as you could you came across an old metal door, carved into the rock surrounding it were twisting serpents. An ancient rune of unknown meaning was etched into the door itself.

Staring at it filled you with dread and you were possessed with the all consuming urge to flee the way you had come, but it was forgotten as if it was never there when you heard Jorry again, this time near the entrance of the cave. If he entered it now he would be able to see you. Light still made it this far.

With the subtle magic of the rune no longer working on you, you slowly opened the metal door and entered into what looked like an underground mausoleum. An underground tomb long forgotten by the histories of man.

You found yourself between two large rectangles of stone. A chill ran up your spine when you realized they were sarcophagi. Evidently the final resting place for two souls left to the dark and dust of this cave. They were plain and unadorned, other than some words on the top. You leaned over and tried to make out the inscription on one when you suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of stone grating against stone.

The sarcophagus opposite of you moved before the one in front of you did. You tripped backwards in fright as the lids were pushed aside and two pale emaciated corpses pulled themselves up and faced your direction. You couldn’t quite tell in the dark but it seemed like their eyes were completely black, creating a chilling contrast with their pale skin.

The thin pale figures slowly began to pull themselves out of their not so final resting places as you got over your initial shock, got up, and got the fuck out of there. You sprinted past the metal door and back into the front of the cave.

You were so engrossed with the current task of running away from the corpses of the damned risen to do any manner of unholy things to those still living that you did not see Jorry as he entered the cave. For the second time that day you careened right into him, knocking you both out of the cavern and on to the dirt outside.

Jorry growled and grabbed your leg, pulling you over to him.

“You ran like a bitch, finally decide it’s better to face your punishment?”

“No, no, no, you don’t understan-”

He pinned you and began wailing away at your smaller body with his mighty fists. Blow after blow. Your nose was surely broken. Then he got up and started stomping on you with his powerful foot. Now some ribs were certainly broken too.

Suddenly you heard Jorry yelp and the beating stopped. Your face was swollen and bloodied, your mind consumed by the pain of broken bones. You couldn’t tell what was going on. Jorry was screaming, blubbering like a girl. The dearly departed had been slowed due to their time without feeding, but with Jorry distracted by his treatment of you he was easy enough prey.

The thin pale figures had him down on the ground, pinning him with less effort than he had pinned you. They bit into his body, ravenously drinking his blood. Not enough to kill him, but enough to reinvigorate themselves and make him weak and helpless. Barely able to move.

You had managed to wipe the blood from your face and saw what was transpiring. You tried your best to drag yourself through the dirt and put distance between yourself and them, but you only managed to get about a foot away before they finally noticed you.

“Alaric look! The one who saved us… they need tending to.”

The vampire evidently named Alaric joined his companion in looking over you. As injured as you were, you struggled to plea for mercy.

“Shhh, shhh. We aren’t going to hurt you. We’d never hurt our savior.”

“I’m Anthelm Noctwind and this is my twin brother Alaric Noctwind. We're going to help.”

Anhelm positioned himself so that your head was propped up in his lap. He bit at his wrist until blood was flowing.

“Here. Drink.”

You weren't sure what lore was true and what was merely myth, but you were fairly positive that it was universally agreed upon that turning into a vampire required the consumption of one’s blood. You struggled to turn away but you were powerless to do so. Alaric held your mouth open as Anthelm held his bleeding wrist above it.

Blood dripped in and you gagged as you were forced to swallow. It tasted the same as any blood, though perhaps a little sweeter. Shortly after you consumed it you lost consciousness. Both due to the blood itself and your rather severe injuries.

They took you and Jorry back into the cave. It would take the rest of the day and a lot of the night for you to turn and heal. Alaric carried you with the utmost care and consideration for your wounds while just picking up Jorry and tossing him in unceremoniously, causing him to cry out in pain as he hit the hard rocky floor.

“I’d kill you now and decorate this place with your entrails, but we need you for something, so just keep quiet.”

Between Jorry’s incessant pleas to be freed and his attempt to run out of the cavern while they were both busy watching you resulted in his clothes being torn from him and ripped into strips that were used to bind and gag him.

Alaric, the cruelest of the brothers, watched in amusement as their hog tied victim cried and shook in fear. The hulking peasant experiencing the fear of death for the first time. The amused vampire went over to him and pet him like he was a pet, in mock sympathy.

“Don’t worry~,” Alaric cooed, “You’ll be out of your misery soon enough.”

That prompted renewed struggles from the naked man. Alaric only laughed in a maniacal fashion as he returned to your side. They had removed their coats, still pristine as the day they had been sealed away, and used them as bedding for you.

They patiently waited for hours, Alaric occasionally taunting poor Jorry, until you finally stirred. The swelling had gone, your bones had mended, and they had licked up the blood that had covered your face. The only evidence that you had ever suffered at all were the bloodstains on your clothing.

It was well past midnight, the twins had lit a fire to keep you and themselves warm. You could see them clearly now that your face was healed. They both looked exactly alike, down to the same outfits. High class, but outdated, attire. They had pale grey eyes that observed your every movement, completely different from the black voids you thought you had seen earlier. Flawless pale skin with delicate, feminine, features. Their long straight hair accentuated their looks perfectly. They could certainly pass as women if they wore the right attire. Maybe they lured in victims that way.

You were confused and more than a bit groggy, but you managed to piece together all the events that had transpired before your rest. You jumped up and made for the door but they were quicker than anything, human or animal, that you had ever encountered. One got behind you with his hand on your shoulders and the other stood in front with his hand on your cheek.

“Don’t be afraid, dove. We aren’t going to hurt you.”

You whimpered as they each took one of your hands and guided you over to Jorry.

“You consumed vampiric blood, right now it has transformed you. Temporarily.”

“Yes, to make it stick you’ll now need to kill.”

“Technically it doesn’t need to be human, any mammal will do, but since we have this lovely volunteer we figured we shouldn’t waste it. ”

“Don’t really want him talking about us. Don’t really want him to live after hurting our dove. And, well, it spares some rodent that is more deserving of life.”

You shuffled nervously.

“I… don’t want to be a… vampire…”

You looked down at your feet, trying to avoid eye contact with them or Jorry who looked up at you with tears streaking his face.

“Sorry, but we aren’t really giving you a choice.”

“We didn’t mean to make it seem that way, please forgive us.”

“You saved us, you had enough magical power to open the door and ignore the rune. You will be a strong vampire, and we can tell a lot more about you by your scent.”

“Smell things like personality, even some thoughts. We know you will be perfect for us.”

“Uh… can’t I just stay with you and remain human?”

“No.” They both said in unison.

“Humans age and die.”

“Humans have betrayed us too. That’s how we ended up here. You broke the seal so we have to show our gratitude.”

You kept staring at your feet until you worked up the courage to ask the question you were afraid to hear the answer to.

“What if I refuse?”

Anthelm smiled and Alaric laughed as if it was a funny joke. Not that you could tell them apart yet.

“Not a choice sweetie, remember?”

“If you don’t do it willingly then I block the tomb entrance so you can’t go deeper.”

“And I guard the cave exit so you can’t leave. Then we leave you alone with your friend. Your hunger will grow. You’ll crave blood. Your senses will be unbearable.”

“You’ll hear his heartbeat, he will smell delicious, then you’ll drain him dry.”

“In more normal circumstances he could survive that, and the blood consumption without a death only prolongs the transitional period, it wouldn’t make you a true vampire. Go long enough without blood, have someone tie you up for a few days, and you’d turn fully human.”

“But he is weak and beaten. He won’t survive.”

You looked at them and stated boldly that you’d resist.

“You are more than welcome to try.”

They each took their agreed upon spots to guard against you fleeing. True to their word you did steadily become more and more hungry. Thirsty for blood. Your senses became acutely aware of the food that had been tied up for you. You tried to resist. Your body shook with the effort. You had a splitting headache and panted heavily. Jorry smelled so good, and the beat of his heart beckoned you towards him. Though you resisted longer than most, the outcome was inevitable.

You descended upon him, he squealed as much as he could with his gag as you bit into his neck and sucked him dry. His futile struggles getting more feeble by the second until they stopped entirely.

Alaric and Anthelm were behind you watching with wicked smiles.

When you finished your meal of Jorry you looked on in horror. But only briefly. You had over consumed and the effects were as powerful as they were swift. You were a bit dizzy and felt as though you were light as air.

“With his death you’ll be with us forever!”

You tried to get up but stumbled and nearly fell. One of the twins caught you. You smiled and nuzzled into his neck. There was a cute man holding you, why had you been so horrified earlier? You shrugged it off, if you couldn’t remember then it probably wasn’t too terribly important.

“Careful, dove. The first times on human blood and drinking to the point of death can be intense.”

“And we definitely let you drink too much.”

You giggled and stroked Anthelm’s soft black hair, not at all paying attention to his words.

“You’re prettier than any girl I’ve ever seen.”

He blushed and Alaric cackled at the spectacle. Until you kissed Anthelm deeply. Then Alaric looked a bit jealous.

You grinded your crotch against Anthelm and giggled at the face he made.

“Everything feels so… intense.”

“Ddon’t you want to go somewhere a bit more... comfy?

“Or romantic? We could find a town. An inn.” Added Alaric.

You ignored him, proceeded to unbutton his shirt and then rubbed your hands over his lean abs. He started returning the treatment, Alaric came over and helped him undress you. It didn’t take long for all three of you to be nude. They used the clothes to make an impromptu bed. Anthelm laid down, his erect cock on full display.

He pulled you on top of him, kissing and nipping at your neck while Alaric was behind the two of you. He pressed two spit-lubed fingers into both you and his brother. Both of you writhed in pleasure, but it simply wasn’t enough.

Alaric didn’t need to stretch either of you out, vampires wouldn’t be pained by something like a cock shoving its way in, but it would feel better with more moisture. He withdrew his fingers, making you pout, and lubed up his cock with saliva before sucking on his brothers for a moment to get it wet.

Then he guided his brother's dick into you before sliding his own cock into his brother. You pressed back against it, trying to get the girthy member as deep into you as possible. Anthelm humped into you slowly, timing his thrusts with your bounces.

Alaric gasped as his cock was gripped by his brother’s tight inviting insides, he gripped Anthelm’s legs for leverage as he drove himself deeper. Anthelm, in the middle of all the action, could barely think. Simultaneously making love to you while being bred by his twin had him drooling.

“Always so tight…”

“Alaric, h-harder.”

His sibling obliged him.

You were in a worse state than Anthelm. You were new to being a vampire and the blood drunkenness combined with your recent kill made every sensation indescribable. More so when the sensations were that of a vampire at your neck and a cock humping into you while you weakly continued to bounce on it.

Anthelm’s entire body shook as he came in you, shoving his cock far into depths before unloading his seed. He took a few moments to catch his breath, an orgasm evidently enough to tire a vampire. If only for a moment. He stayed hard and began fucking into you again.

“I think you were made for us, angel.”

The stimulation was just too much for you and you screamed as you had the most intense orgasm of your entire life. Your body relaxed as you lay on Anthelm, no longer bouncing on his cock but content to let him keep using you as long as he saw fit as you nuzzled into his chest.

Alaric gripped his brother’s legs tightly as he finally slammed in hard and filled him like he had filled you. Without missing a beat he slid out of his brother, covered his cock in the cum that pooled out of him, and slid it right into you. Both of there cocks now covered in a slimy mix of both of their loads, using it as lube as they thrust into you in tandem. You whimpered at the sheer immensity of the pleasure that was filling you.

The three of you spent the rest of the entire night, and a good chunk of the morning, engaged in a rapturous sea of sex. Eventually you all fell asleep on top of them. Given their recent centuries long slumber they stayed awake and idly toyed with your hair or caressing you as you slept soundly.

They whispered to themselves about what the plan from there was.

“There’s a stream outside we can clean ourselves off in.”

“Yeah, I can smell it. After that head to a town?”

“A large one where we can blend in. Feed on livestock outside the walls. Maybe rats too if necessary. Always rats in large towns.”

“What about humans? Always rapists and thugs in cities that need to be taken care of.”

Alaric looked at Anthelm hopefully.

“True. True,” Anthelm relented, “I suppose it won’t hurt to remove a few bad ones. On occasion.”

Alaric broke into a large grin.

“Yes! I love how our new partner gets when they are drunk on human life.”

You stirred a bit in your sleep though you didn’t wake, drool under your cheek and on Alaric’s bare chest.

“Quiet, they need their rest…”

“Sorry,” Alaric murmured sheepishly.

They continued chatting about the future until you woke up. With a clearer head you were once more traumatized by what you had done, but they calmed you down and explained how he deserved it and that you were not a monster. They would guide you in your new life.

They were eager to leave behind the cave that had held them prisoner for so long. Bidding the cave farewell with a piss on Jorry’s soon to be rotting corpse, the closest thing he would get to a burial, the brothers departed with you.

You made a life for yourselves in one of the larger cities. Anytime someone tried to hurt you they went missing quite fast. It would be many years still before you had the degree of strength and power that the twins possessed. And even once you did they’d always remain overprotective.

You quickly came to accept and love your new existence with them. Anthelm took up your trade with you while Alaric became a prominent cook and eventually owner of his own restaurant. Apparently the hypersensitivity of vampiric taste buds helped him make delicacies. There was always a need for carpentry and fancy food, so you never had any money troubles, (un)life was good. And you had an eternity to spend it with them.

[steddiehyperfixation]

with blonde hair and a tan

steddie brainworms so bad i wrote this silly little thing immediately after watching the rocky horror picture show for the first time the other night lol @steddie-spooktober day 30: "where in the hell did you find that costume?" | 1083 words | T |

Eddie can hear Steve and Robin squabbling as he makes his way up the stairs to Steve's room. 

“I just don't know about this, Rob.” 

“It was your idea!” 

“It's too much. I should wear something else.” 

“Little late for that now.” 

“Well-”

“Where in the hell did you find that costume?” Eddie stops in the doorway, frozen in a state of shock at the scene in front of him. His mouth hangs open, eyes wide, and a sudden heat rises in his cheeks. 

Because Steve is standing in front of his mirror wearing only a tiny metallic gold speedo and matching gold boots, his great expanse of tanned skin and muscles and body hair on full display. Robin stands next to him with a spray can of wash out bleach-blonde hair dye at the ready. 

Steve looks over at Eddie. “It's too much, isn't it? I knew it. I told you,” he says to Robin, gesturing at Eddie as if his reaction proves his point. “Look at his face, even he's embarrassed for me.” 

Robin snorts. “Yeah, I don't think that's why he's blushing, Steve-o.” 

“No one’s even gonna know who I am,” Steve continues to complain, thankfully ignoring Robin’s comment. 

“Rocky,” Eddie says. His voice comes out weird and cracked; he clears his throat. “You're Rocky, from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” 

“See?” Now it's Robin’s turn to gesture towards Eddie in vindication. “Totally recognizable. Totally good. It's just one party, and you've got all that unwarranted jock confidence, you'll be fine.” She pats Steve on the shoulder, then turns and tosses the spray dye at Eddie. “Here. You can take over spraying his hair. I have to finish getting myself ready.” 

Eddie fumbles trying to catch the spray can, his attempt to stammer out a protest falling on deaf ears as Robin pushes past him out of the room. “Okay.” He sighs. This is fine. He can totally handle being left alone with this literal golden adonis without getting heart palpitations. He can be cool and chill and normal. He can. 

Steve looks amused. “You don't have to. I can probably manage spraying my own hair just fine,” he says when Eddie still hasn't moved. 

“No, I got it.” Eddie shakes his head, shaking himself into motion. “You won't be able to get the back right on your own anyways.” He approaches Steve - with great restraint, he might add, because there's a part of his brain that's all animal right now and it's just raring to pounce on him. “So are you done trying to talk yourself out of this costume, then?” 

Steve chews at his lip as he studies his reflection again. “I think so,” he decides. His gaze flicks up to meet Eddie's eyes in the mirror. “You really don't think it's too much?” 

Eddie breaks the mirror eye contact before his face can turn any more red, fixing his focus singularly on starting to spray the blonde dye onto Steve's hair. “No, you uh, you look good. You really should've warned me- told me, I mean, what you were gonna be. I would've matched your theme, could've gone as Dr. Frank N Furter.” (His current costume in comparison is quite boring, just a basic vampire - albeit with some pretty impressive fake blood around his mouth if he does say so himself, but ultimately nothing special.)

“Now that would be something,” Steve mutters, the words a little breathier all of the sudden, but Eddie still doesn't dare let his glance wander from his hair. His voice is back to normal in a second anyway. “Well, there's always next year.” 

“Yeah, next year,” Eddie echoes. That really would be something, both of them in flamboyantly skimpy costumes. He's not sure if that would make this situation better or worse for him. 

He pushes up some of Steve's hair to make sure he's covered all the layers in the back, his fingers accidentally brushing along the skin of his neck, and Steve shivers. Eddie finds himself watching with an odd satisfaction as the goosebumps ripple up in the wake of his touch. 

“I think I might freeze to death like this, though,” Steve comments with a self-deprecating chuckle that just barely conceals that weird breathiness that's returned to his voice. “I probably should've considered that before I decided to go out half naked at night in the middle of fall.” 

“I bet you could easily find someone to keep you warm tonight,” Eddie tells him, forcing detachment. He locks his attention back on his hair dyeing work. “You walk in there looking like this and you'll have all the girls at the party falling at your feet. Probably even some of the guys too,” he adds, remembering Steve recently came out as bisexual. 

“Yeah?” Steve sounds like he's smiling, or maybe smirking. He tries (unsuccessfully) to catch Eddie's eyes again as Eddie moves in front of him to get to the last few pieces of hair. “And what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Would you be one of them?” 

Eddie finishes with the hairspray, nothing left to keep using as an excuse to avoid his attention. He finally looks at Steve's face and raises an eyebrow, deflecting. “You want me to fall at your feet, Harrington?” 

Steve shakes his head almost imperceptibly. He glances down for a moment, then looks back up at him from under his lashes and takes a step closer. “I want you to keep me warm,” he clarifies in a murmur as he reaches for Eddie's free hand and guides it to hold his waist. Eddie's blood ignites at the touch and the look Steve's giving him, flames racing along his veins. 

That's as good an invitation as any, and Eddie's restraint shatters. He draws Steve hungrily to his lips. How could he not? The spray can falls from his grip in favor of using both hands to pull Steve closer and roam his body. And if Eddie's wandering hands linger for a while in their investigation of that perfect gold-clad ass, well that's between them and the lovely little sound Steve makes against his open mouth. 

And Robin, who has the misfortune of poking her head back into the room right then. 

She yelps and jumps out of view of the scene, banging her fist against the wall just next to the doorway to get their attention instead. “When you guys are done being gross,” she shouts, “there's a party we're gonna be late for!” 

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 20

Word Count- 3.8k

Warnings- Swearing, injury, stick, Theo, Klaus, Theo and Klaus

“We’re going to go meet Bonnie’s birth mother. Want to join us?”

I blow out a low breath as Elena tells me her day plans over the phone. I ponder her question momentarily and then glance at Theo, who is currently curled into a sad ball on my bed.

“I would but…I’m on Theo watch duty. Gotta make sure he doesn’t have another mental breakdown,” I whisper the last part into the phone but Theo must’ve heard because I hear him mutter “bitch” at me.

“Yikes… How’s he doing,” Elena asks wearily.

I blow out another breath as Theo wails loudly, “You hear that?”

“Oh… definite yikes. Well, call us if you need anything ok? And, please stay inside, or don’t go anywhere near Stefan.”

I huff, “Ya trust me, I’m staying as far away from that bastard as I can.”

“You talking about Stefan,” I hear Theo growl out and I shush him.

“Tell Bonnie I’ll kick her mother’s ass if things go south,” I say into the phone and Elena’s voice gets muffled as she says something to someone near her.

“Bonnie says she will and she appreciates it,” Elena laughs.

We then say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone and remember the elephant in the room. 

“You’ve really got to move on dude. It’s not like he’s dead,” I sit down on the edge of my bed and my brother sits up and glares at me. He’s wrapped up in a fluffy pink blanket so his glare is more pathetic than scary.

“Mind yourself, woman,” He bites, “What if your Gilbert left you?”

I begin to roll my eyes at him but stop and frown. 

“SEE! You’d be in my position if your book buddy left you! So don’t come bitching at me because my SOULMATE left me,” He cries out and I let out a long breath.

“Can’t you have your mid-life crisis in your room?”

“The internet says you're not supposed to be alone in times of mourning,” He quickly responds.

“Ya well,” I rub my forehead, “You're giving me a fucking migraine.”

At the mention of my head, Theo frowns and leans closer to me inspecting my head, “How is your head? I swear to God as soon as I get my hands on that stupid bitchass motherfucking vampire imma kill him.”

I smile softly at him and sit back, “I’m fine now. And promise me if you see Stefan you will run the other way,” I say trying to hide the slight fear in my voice. 

“Y/n he hurt you, I’m not going to just-”

“Theo! Please! Do you see how you are acting because Jeremy left you? If something were to happen to you…I’d be one hundred times worse than this. I couldn’t live in a world where you didn’t exist, alright? And Stefan he’s… not himself right now. He doesn't care about me and he definitely doesn’t care about you. So, promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

Theo nods and grabs my shoulders, bringing me in for a hug, “I’d lose my shit too if you weren’t here. That’s why it sucks I can’t defend you. Seeing you in the condition you were the other night was horrible.”

I think back to when Klaus dropped me off, and Theo was right at the front door to see it and also see the absolute wreck I was. 

“I know and I’m sorry you had to see that,” I apologize. 

Theo shakes his head, “You have nothing to apologize for,” Theo stops talking and then side-eyes me, “Also… would you like to explain to me why exactly Klaus, the Original hybrid, was on our front porch dropping you off?”

“Well…”

Flashback

The dark forest flies by me as Klaus drives down the dark road towards my house. An awkward silence fills Klaus’ expensive SUV as I stare at my fingers that are resting in my lap. You would think for someone who loves to hear himself talk so much he’d be yapping away but after he practically carried me to the car, and placed me into my seat, he hasn’t said a word.  

After another moment I let out a sigh, “You didn’t have to take me home…I could’ve rode with Alastair.”

Klaus doesn’t move his eyes away from the road, “With Alastair’s track record of making sure you come to no harm…I decided I should start taking things into my own hands.”

I frown, “So what? You’re going to start stalking me now?”

Even in this poorly lit car, I can’t miss the small smirk on his face, “Hypothetically.”

“Great,” I say sarcastically.

Everything is silent for a moment until a car with its high beams on drives by us and I wince and let out a gasp of pain at the intrusion of light on my already pounding head. 

“Here,” I hear Klaus’ voice and a biting sound and have to fight the urge to puke again when I see him bite into his wrist.

“Hell no,” I shake my head, “I’ll live with the headache.”

Klaus pretty much growls, “Sorry to burst your bubble, Princess. But, that little headache of yours is most likely a concussion. And I can’t have you falling asleep tonight and not waking up because of it. So just drink.”

I shake my head defiantly and watch his wrist heal itself, “I’ll live.”

Klaus turns and glares at me and if I was in a better state I would glare right back at the bitch but I’m so worn down that I just stare back at him. Klaus’ glare drops when he sees I’m not glaring back at him.

“Y/n, just drink…”

“What’s a mate?”

The car swerves and I quickly grab the closest thing to me which happens to be Klaus’ hand that is lying on the center console. Images of Stefan and the bridge flash in my mind and I feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack. Or dying. I could definitely be dying too. 

“Y/n! Y/n focus on me,” I hear Klaus’ voice in my head but I can’t seem to focus on anything or stop the panic attack that is building.

“Fuck it,” Is all I hear before the air is being taken out of my lungs and my face is being squished by Klaus’ large hands. It takes me a moment to register why I feel a pressure on my mouth but when I open my eyes and see Klaus’ face before mine I realize…Klaus is kissing me. Klaus whatever his last name is, is fucking kissing me. His lips are on my lips at this very moment. Holy shit. 

I know I should push him off me but I’m going to blame it on my lack of consciousness right now because I’m leaning into him. I’m kissing him back. 

Klaus pulls away from me a moment later and I stare at him wide-eyed. I bring my shaking hand up to my lips and trace my bottom lip with my finger, trying not to think about how right it felt to be that close to him. 

“I’m sorry,  I shouldn’t have done that,” Klaus’ voice pulls me out of my stupor.

“Then…why did you?”

Klaus leans back and it seems like he’s trying to make as much distance between him and me as he possibly can, which sends a stabbing pain to my chest.

“You were having a panic attack. What I’ve learned over the years is that holding your breath will stop it.”

At Klaus’ reason, a wave of embarrassment flows through me. I can’t figure out why but, a sense of rejection fills me as well.

“Oh,” I softly say, “I’m sorry.”

I can feel Klaus’ stare as I look back down to my hands. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

I shrug, “For freaking out. And for making you,” I point to my lips embarrassingly, “Y’know.”

A bigger wave of embarrassment runs through me at the sound of Klaus’ laugh. 

“Trust me, Princess,” Klaus tugs on the end of my hair lightly to gain my attention, “Kissing you is the opposite of sorrowful.”

I look at Klaus’ who has a mix of a smirk and a smile on his face and I nod quickly before looking away, feeling a warmth build throughout me. 

I notice now that we’ve pulled off to the side of the road. 

“We can go now. I’m okay,” I gesture to the road ahead and try to catch a glimpse of Klaus out of the corner of my eye but he’s still staring at me. 

“Not until you let me heal you.”

I shake my head, “You vampires keep trying to get me to drink your blood and it’s weird.”

Klaus’ eyes darken, “What other vampires?”

I shrug, “Just like Damon, and,” I pause, “Your brother.”

“You’ve drank Elijah’s blood but you won’t drink mine?”

Klaus’ harsh voice bites at me and I flinch back in my seat. 

Klaus’ glare instantly drops as he runs a hand over his face, “You have no reason to flinch around me. I’d never… I’d never do anything like that to you.”

I frown at the man who has uprooted and ruined my friends’ lives over the past 4 months and shake my head, “Are you serious?!”

Klaus stares at me for a moment before leaning back in his seat again, “I’ve never laid a hand on you or your brother.”

At the mention of Theo I stiffen, “How do you know about him?”

Klaus looks at me with an “Are you serious” look.

“Alastair,” I say knowingly and growled.

“He’s not the best at protecting but he is great at getting information.”

I pause for a moment and then glare at him, “If you ever try anything against Theo, I swear to whatever Gods are out there I will-”

“Slow it, Princess,” Klaus raises a hand stopping me, “Your brother has nothing to fear from me. Hurting him is hurting you.”

“Why is not hurting me of importance to you? Because of what Stefan said in the car? We’re mates?”

My question has Klaus leaning forward and starting the car again.

“Seriously,” I exhale at him and he doesn’t spare me a glance.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I go to rub my hands over my face but Klaus’ hand grabs mine stopping me.

“You’re going to hit your wound. Put your hand down.”

“Why can’t I ever just know the truth? I’m so sick and tired of everyone hiding things from me like I’m so fucking kid! I haven’t been a kid in years and I can handle a lot more than you fuckers think I can.”

Klaus watches me for a moment and then shakes his head, “I don’t think you understand.”

“No, I understand you perfectly! I understand you’re just like the rest of them!”

“Y/n. Listen to me,” Klaus leans back over to me so my full attention is on him, “First of all, I’m nothing like anyone that you’ve ever met before, so don’t insult me. Second, I don’t think you’re a child. I can see it in your eyes, that look that mirrors my own. You and I are the same, Astin Min. And third, it’s not you that can’t handle it. It’s me.”

I stare at Klaus and he stares back at me. 

“Why can’t you?”

Klaus runs his tongue over his teeth before letting out a sigh.

“Question for question,” He shakes his head slightly, “Correction. Question for a favor.”

I narrow my eyes at him and frown, “What kind of favor?”

Klaus smirks, “You drink my blood. I’ll answer your question.”

I groan as I stare at him. The idea of drinking his blood disgusts me but staying in the dark pisses me off.

“Fine. Let’s get the over with,” I lean over the console toward him and open my mouth. 

Klaus seems to be almost surprised by my agreement as his eyebrows slightly raise. His eyes go towards my open mouth and for a moment in the dark car, I could swear a hint of red tints on his cheeks. But before I can stare too long Klaus bites into his wrist and presses it to my mouth. I think I’m about to vomit when the warm liquid hits my tongue but instead, I groan at the delicious taste. Embarrassment has me quickly pulling away and wiping my lips. 

Klaus on the other hand is smirking like the fucking devil he is, “It’s better than Elijah’s, isn’t it.”

I glare at him, “I’m going to swing on you.”

Klaus releases a hearty laugh and I feel my upper lip twitch at the sound. 

“It’s your turn Jackass,” I cut his laughing off and he rolls his eyes. 

Klaus puts the car in drive and for a moment I think he’s going to back out of our deal but then he clears his throat. 

“I’ve gone a thousand years without a weakness, Y/n. A thousand years with no one having any leverage over me, other than my father.,” He pauses at the mention of Mikael, “You threaten that. A thousand years, and now my biggest threat is an 18-year-old girl.”

He bitterly laughs out the last part as if he can’t believe it’s true.

“I’m no threat to you. You’re the great big bad hybrid. I can’t even run up a flight of stairs without getting winded. How could I ever harm you?”

Klaus turns to me and his eyes go towards my wounded head before turning back towards the road.

“You have no idea.”

—

“I’m not even going to ask how you knew how to get to my house without me telling you,” I say as I go to open my car door but Klaus speeds over to my side and opens it for me. 

Maybe he and Elijah are related.

“You can ask, I can’t promise you’ll like the answer,” Klaus says as he helps me out of the car. 

I get out and try to walk on my own but a wave of tiredness flows through me and I feel my knees buckle. Thankfully, I feel Klaus’ arm wrap around my waist to keep me up.

“What the hell?!”

Theo’s screeching voice has me cringing in pain and I can hear Klaus growl from beside me. 

I open my eyes to see Theo running out of the front door and down the steps to me, wrapped in my fucking comforter. 

“Unhand her you bitch,” Theo yells and points his finger at Klaus who looks entirely unimpressed with my younger brother’s antics.

“Theo, chill the fuck out and go back inside. I’ll be in in a moment,” I try to wave my brother away but he shushes me and grabs me out of Klaus’ arms. 

“What kind of brother and manly protector would I be if I left you alone with this,” Theo glares at Klaus, who still has a hand on the bottom of my elbow, “thing.”

Klaus’ eyes go from my brother’s face to the giant lavender blanket wrapped around him, “I would insult you, but I know about your lack of male figures in your life. So this,” He gestures to the blanket, “Is not your fault. It appears your sister has just raised herself a sister.”

I swallow a laugh as Theo looks like he’s about to internally combust. He lets go of me and if it weren’t for Klaus’ hand on my elbow I probably would have fallen. Klaus narrows his eyes at my brother because of his actions.

“Who the fuck do you think you are,” Theo puts his fists up and I laugh at the amount of stupidness.

I look over to Klaus who’s standing next to me and he meets my eyes for a moment and then rolls his own.

“Klaus.”

“Well listen here Klau-”

Theo stops. 

“Wait,” Theo’s eyes go from wide to wider as his mouth drops open when he realizes who he just tried fist fighting. Theo slowly drops his fists, “Did you just say Klaus?”

Klaus seems to be beside himself for getting this kind of reaction out of my brother and I glare at him, “The one and only.”

Theo stares wide-eyed at the Original for a moment before turning around towards our lawn. I think he’s going to make a run for it but he quickly leans down and then turns back. I watch in awe as he throws a fucking stick at Klaus, bonking the hybrid right in his pretty face. 

“Quick, sister,” Theo yells as I feel him rip me out of Klaus’ arms and starts to drag me up the stairs. 

“Theo! Hold the fuck on, you dumbass,” I pull away from my brother as we make it to the porch and he stares at me like I’ve grown two heads. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!?!?”

“He’s not going to hurt us,” I tell my brother, “Or at least he wasn’t until you threw a fucking twig at his head.”

I look down at where Klaus is standing. I try to fight it but a loud laugh escapes my lips when I see him glaring up at us with the small twig breaking in his left hand. 

“Luv, I know I made a promise about not hurting him, but I think I might have to break that,” He bites out and I instantly stiffen and move in front of my little brother.

“You’ll have to kill me first,” I threaten him and we glare back at each other.

“This sexual tension is freaking me out,” Theo’s voice takes my focus away from Klaus as I turn to glare at my brother instead. 

“Shut up, Theo!”

“Oh, let the boy continue,” Klaus snarkily says and I turn back to glare at him. Thankfully the dark look from before has vanished and is now replaced by his usual smirk. 

I feel Theo’s hand tug on mine and I squeeze his. Theo talks a tough game but I can feel the shaking coming from his hand. 

“He hurt you Y/n,” Theo whispers to me as he stares wearily at my bloody head.

“Did not,” Klaus retorts.

Theo turns his attention back to the Original, “Did too!”

“Did no-”

“Jesus Christ stop you two,” I groan and rub my temple with my free hand, “Theo it was Stefan who hurt me. Klaus actually…helped me. I guess.”

I turn to see my brother’s confused face and can hear Klaus mutter “She guesses” under his breath. 

“Stefan did this to you,” Theo questions, and as I nod his weary look turns to one of anger, “Fine. Then grab that stick we’re going to go stab Stefan instead.”

Theo begins to walk back down the steps and Klaus raises the stick up for him to take.

“I’ll join you, mate.”

I pull my brother back with a huff, “Theo go back inside. Now.”

Theo goes to argue but I glare at him.  With one last huff and an “I’m watching you” gesture to Klaus, he walks back inside. But I can see the living room curtain push open slightly so I know he’s still watching. 

“You two are definitely related,” Klaus growls as he looks up at me. 

“Sadly,” I respond. 

Klaus and I stand there for another moment just watching each other and I feel my face warm up. 

“Well…um. Thank I guess,” I say awkwardly and turn to the front door.

“Y/n,” Klaus’ voice has me stopping and turning over my shoulder to look at him. He looks like he’s about to say something else but then clears his throat. 

“Good night.”

—-

“YOU KISSED HIM?!?!?”

I roll my eyes as Theo stares wide-eyed at me. 

“Technically, he kissed me,” I respond and Theo shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh you kissed him back,” He says and looks at me like I just committed the worst sin imaginable.

I look down at my hands as a wave of shame washes through me. 

“You can’t tell anyone, Theo. Seriously. Not Jeremy, or Elena, or anyone,” I look at my brother worried.

Theo narrows his eyes, “Why not?”

I give him an “Are you serious” look.

Theo thinks for a moment and then nods, “Oh, ya. Crazy Pyshco that killed your best friend and is harassing all your friends now. Ya, secrets safe with me.”

I grab Theo’s hand, “Theo, I’m serious.”

Theo squeezes my hand, “I promise. Sibling pact and shit….Also,” Theo smirks, “Was it good?”

I frown, confused, “Was what good?”

“The kiss,” Theo smirks evilly.

I smile sweetly at my brother and then hit him upside the head with my hand.

“Ow, woman. Don’t be putting your filthy hands on my precious hair.”

“Your greasy hair,” I say back and he stares at me in shock.

“How dare you! It is not greasy,” He tries to fight back but when I raise an eyebrow at him he quickly stands up and runs to my mirror. The screech that leaves his mouth as he stares into the mirror has me rolling my eyes. 

Theo quickly drops my blanket on the floor and runs out of the room. Not even 2 minutes later I hear the water from the shower turn on. I quickly stand up, shut my door, and then lock it. 

—-

“Wait, so that means I can’t fist-fight Bonnie’s mother,” I ask Elena.

Elena called me as soon as she got home from her trip with Bonnie to meet Bonnie’s mother. I guess Bonnie’s mother ended up losing her magic when she did a spell to desecrate Mikael 16 years ago but is willing to try to get her magic back to help her daughter open the unopenable coffin or some shit. There’s so much going on in this town that everything’s starting to mesh together. 

“No…I mean at least not right now,” Elena jokes and I huff.

“Fine. But if she hurts Bonnie I’m throwing my fist right into her throat,” I pretend to jab the air as I put the phone in between my shoulder and ear.

“Are you fighting the air right now,” Elena asks and I stop.

“No….”

Elena laughs, “Well, if you do need to fight her I’ll be there rooting for you.”

I smile, “Thanks, I appreciate it,” I pull up my towel that is wrapped around my body. 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay,” I tell Elena and she agrees and I hang up the phone. 

My still-wet hair leaves shivers on my body as I open my bedroom door and walk inside. But when my Y/E/C eyes meet brown eyes I stop.

“Hello, Elskan. I think you and I are long overdue for a chat.”

[that-one-malereader-enthusiast]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐨

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐋𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬

cw : MDNI - , sub Lestat, top male reader, dom male reader, sub Louis, slight service bot Louis, nsfw, birthday sex, mentions of blood, soft dom male reader, marking, heavy biting, fang play, poly, slight brat taming, slight internalized homophobia, awakening, threesome, iwtv movie, Louis is a brooding baby, as always, brat Lestat, Brad Pitt Louis, Tom Cruise Lestat, not proof read, anon request, wc: 4.8k.

Thinking of how the two vampires who've adored you for over a year are now ready to claim you as theirs only. How they can't stand the idea of being away from you any longer.

How they'd get on a bended knee for you, that behind closed doors the power switch was immense. How someone as cocky as a peacock suddenly becomes as domesticated as a house pet.

But you didn't just serve them. They served you. They loved you, and they wanted to grant you more of that obsessive love on your special day.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

After cleaning the main lounge, you found yourself ready to retire to your quarters for the night. It was odd at the start, to now serve two men who’d claimed to be new owners of the estate and to finally be working inside the home instead of outside of it. You were just a simple gardener who tended to the Lord's yard whenever he asked. You were paid less than most of the staff — no matter the color of your skin or where you originated from — but it was the only task anyone would grant you, even though you were more than capable of doing more.

Much more.

The last thing you'd expected was to suddenly find yourself ambushed by a well dressed blonde nobleman one night. He had a certain charm that swooned you immediately, though he was just as surprised when you retaliated — amusing him so.

But you were unaware that you were nothing but prey in the eyes of the nightly hunter.

He was more intrigued by your presence than most he'd encountered during his nightly prowls. He captured your attention for most of the night before disappearing with a promise of meeting you again, and the next day, the original Lord and Lady of the house seemed to disappear without much of a trace.

It was only the next night that Lestat informed all servants and workers that the Lord of the house handed it to him while the two went away for a while, not to return for a season or two. In some ways, you were not as alarmed as others were from the sudden news.

It was only then that you'd been visited nightly by the new Lord, Lestat de Lioncourt. Even though you found it odd how he only visited you in the gardens during the nighttime, it was comforting to have someone spend time with you, shamelessly at that. For another man to spend time with one another in such a way — in that day and age — you'd be ridiculed or worse. Far worse.

It was only later that you’d found yourself introduced to the second new lord of the house, Louis de Pointe du Lac. He was rather standoffish around Lestat, as if he was simply tolerating to be around his blonde companion rather than enjoying his company. Everytime you happened to see him during the night, the brunette was brooding somewhere in the garden or isolating himself within the house. As if he couldn't stand to be around people.

Slowly but surely, you surprised the brunette — just as much as he was surprised Lestat kept you around. Every night you'd find yourself trying to get in good graces with Louis, from bouquets of flowers to small notes you'd write on parchment.

Unfortunately, he wasn't as willing to spend time with you as Lestat was. His companion simply stated the man was too busy mourning a previous life, had been for quite a while.

What he didn't explain was that the previous life in question was Louis’ own.

Lestat de Lioncourt — the man who could talk his way in and out of both heaven and hell if he wanted to. The man who had you wound tightly around his finger. You'd long since waved away the thought of never seeing the two men in the daylight hours, just as no other servant had, deterring them. But what seemed to confuse you most was why blonde individual seemed so intrigued with you alone.

Some nights he'd be away with Louis, sometimes leaving out without him — either way — he'd always make time for you. Whether that was to dine in the house, dance with you out in the yard, or even playing you a musical tenure he stated he learned some years ago, he was almost attached to the him with you.

It wasn't until he'd lead you inside and to his own private quarters that it was revealed to you what he truly was. A man who's only seen at night, whose words are like sultry whispers that wrap around your mind, who sleeps in a coffin of all places.

A vampire.

The night you'd indulged in the sinful desire, laying with Lestat as you were seduced into bed with him, you were both left in a daze of emotions. A buzzing high you'd never experienced lingered within you as you took the vampire that night, and in return it made him desire your presence even more.

Your blood was indescribable, but at the same time, the most alluring he'd had come across in some time, even within the bliss of the night. It was almost too much to resist the first time he'd fed from you.

Now Louis, Louis was a much harder catch. Of course Lestat flaunted how great you were, how much of a flame you were to him compared to the harlots he'd normally pick up — though in no way was he calling you that or lowering you to those standards. Even teased the thought of having you as an additional companion.

That scared Louis to wits end. He didn't want anyone else to have to suffer a fate similar to his own.

Though when you stopped leaving him flowers, notes, letters, he seemed to almost yearn for that attention back. Lestat and himself didn't exactly click, only in certain moments, but otherwise they were as different as black and white. He'd take quiet strolls in the garden some nights when Lestat was gone, leaving Louis to feed on whatever doves or rats he wanted to feast on. But instead, he watched you from afar, admiring you in the darkness.

He was one to leer and loom around, watching as you delicately handled all the flowers that bloomed, shaping and trimming the hedges, and by God he adored hearing you sing to yourself. Sometimes it was a hum of a tune he didn't recognize, sometimes it was simply a melody you'd made up yourself.

He was completely entranced with you. But he wasn't as sneaky as he thought to be, which is why you left little clues. Single roses in the gazebo that sat in the yard, folded sheets of loving words hidden in the bushes — you knew he appreciated them. The smile on his face said it all, even it was the smallest of gestures.

And you had to admit, Louis looked much better with a something other than the depressing look he carried around. At one point or another, you assumed they may have gotten tired of you and were simply going to make you disappear like the other servants of the house did. Just as the previous Lord and lady of the house did.

Yet here you are, a year later, still taking care of the garden as well as the house, all while maintaining a relationship with the two vampires. You were being paid handsomely — even though you were one of the few servants still left — ate at the table, and even had your own sleeping quarters inside the house rather than in the slums of the city.

You couldn't ask for a more perfect life especially with the attention you'd gained from the two men.

But what you least expected was a sudden barrage of gifts at your bedroom door.

You blinked a few times to make sure that you weren't just seeing things, but there were in fact gifts, from a beautiful bouquet of roses, to divine chocolates that you'd only be able to get overseas. The gesture was sweet and all, but you couldn't understand why it was at your door this time of night. Wouldn't it have made sense for whoever to have given them to you by hand?

“Odd…” Bundling the gifts into your arms, your was then hand fixated itself on the door handle before twisting and pushing it open. It was only then that you were even more confused with the assortment or rose petals leading up to your bed. There were candles decorated throughout the room, settled on the dressers and seals within the room. You barely caught that your sheets and covers were replaced with what looked like silk instead of your normal cotton sheets.

“Bonsoir ma chéri!” You felt someone drape onto your body, purring against your neck by the time you had two feet in the door. The accented voice was a dead giveaway to who'd invaded your quarters, though you were still befuddled.

You'd done nothing in recent times that would cause this sort of extension of affection — other than perhaps granting Lestat the pleasure of taking him while in his coffin.

“Monsieur Lestat?” You turned your head towards him in order to question what the meaning of the gifts were, but your voice was silenced by the feeling of his lips against yours. His fangs gently poked against your bottom lip, and tilting your head, you'd done due diligence to deepen the kiss. Your tongue played to gain access to the other's mouth before the vampire suddenly pulled away.

“Ah, you know how I feel about that toi ma douce. We're rather far from formalities, oui?” Lestat seemed to tilt your chin to his own height as he spoke, all before closing the door and sauntering his way into the room and effortlessly sitting on the edge of the bed. By the time you'd made your way into the rest of your room, settling the gifts on a vacant space, you turned and noticed Louis.

He was draped against the loveseat that sat some distance away from your own bed. His piercing, alluring eyes peered at you from afar before they shifted to the glass of red that was held between his hands, babying it as Lestat continued to speak to you.

“Do you like it mon cher? It was all planned for you! I know you barely come up to your room after you've gotten ready for the day, tu es un homme si travailleur, but it was the perfect time to assess your room before you come back. It didn’t take much to get inside without peeping eyes.” Lestat was right when it came to your schedule, working till late to make sure the house was in the best shape, all before coming to your room to rest or letting Lestat drink from you when he wasn't in the best of moods.

“I appreciate the gesture, but…I don't quite understand — why? I-I haven't done anything out of the ordinary lately, nothin’ that ain't what I normally do.” You watched as Lestats' brows furrowed and he looked over at Louis, the other looking right back as if he was a lost puppy.

The blonde gestured towards yourself as he spoke to his companion that laid across the room. “Louis, you said that it was today, did you not?”

“It is today, I made sure of it Lestat,” he replied reassuringly, only for the two to glance over towards your form, watching the clueless expression on your face.

“What…exactly is today?”

Standing to his feet almost immediately, Lestat grinned and strutted over till he was pressed against your body, holding your face with a fanged grin on his lips. “My hardworking charmeur, it is the day of your birth! If I remember correctly, you spoke of it being around this time of the year…unless you misspoke.”

It was only then that the dots connected all at once. You hadn't truly celebrated your birthday in years, not like much of the staff did unless they had families to go to and days off. Unfortunately for yourself, you had no family left to celebrate the day you were brought into the world.

“No, no — you’re correct! I just…I ain't ever see no reason to celebrate it. Haven't thought about it since I was younger…” Your eyes drifted over to Louis to see if he had any input, but he seemed as quiet as ever. At least he wasn’t acting like a brooding mess like normal. “Though I appreciate the gesture, of course.”

“Oh, it was just as much of Louis' ideas as it was mine! He practically begged for everything to be perfect for you mon cher, isn't that right Louis!” Lestat teased and called out the man from across the room before turning his attention back to you. “Of course I contributed to such efforts to make this night one that you would remember, pour toujours!” Guiding you towards the bed, he watched as you'd sat against the edge and looked rather unsure of yourself.

“Mons—er...Lestat, I haven't even gotten out of my work uniform. I didn't expect such a gesture today, not at all, but I do appreciate it.” Just as you began to unbutton the black vest over your dress shirt, Lestat crawled into your lap, straddling you and removing your hands before ripping your vest open, popping a few buttons off completely.

“Well, you can show your appreciation towards us tonight. As always, you never disappoint, not as far as I know.” Lestats' last words were drawn out as he dragged his hand down your stomach and down to the crotch of your pants, feeling the half chubbed appendage that appeared due to his sudden spur of boldness.

It was only then that you looked over to see Louis almost clenching his jaw while watching on, privy to the fact that Lestat would be laying with you again. Unfortunately, you were not the only one to notice Louis' sudden expression.

With a sharp grin, Lestat then slowly ripped your white dress shirt before looking towards his companion. “Isn't this what you were hoping for Louis? To surprise our darling on his special day? Oh — oh,” he gasped in feign surprise. “Don't tell me you've gotten shy all of a sudden, that doesn't much seem like your style, wouldn't you agree?”

Seeing as Lestat always liked to pick a fight with Louis, you took matters into your own hands. With your hands gripped around his waist, you practically rolled to pin Lestat down to the bed, silencing him with your own mouth on his. “If this is my birthday present, I'd rather you use that mouth for the better…’oui’?” You quoted, muttering such words with the little space he granted you before crashing his lips into yours again.

And just like that, you were straddling over Lestats' body and now attacking his throat. His eyes rolled back with each harsh bite and nip you placed up on his skin. The blonde fumbled to practically tear off the rest of your dress shirt from your arms before throwing it in the corner of the room and leaving you bare chested.

Even as you were mentally drawing out that you were exhausted after working all day, you could never resist Lestat. He was like a drug you couldn't get away from.

The vampire rolled his hips out to your with a half baked whine as he grew somewhat impatient with the fact that you had foreplay in mind. He understood why you were so gentle with him, but even as a vampire he'd informed you that he could take much more than normal.

“Louis, are you going to just sit there all night? Like a dormant animal and continue to stare?” Lestat was definitely looking at Louis out of spite, seeing as the man refused to move from the loveseat since the two of you started. “Ah, à moins que je me trompe, is this what gets you going,” he asked, letting out labored breaths as you assaulted his neck. “Watching? Mmmh…waiting in the winds and wishing you were in my place while you sit idly by?”

It was only then that Lestat cried out, feeling your teeth bite down against the flesh between the crook of his neck, much harsher than you'd normally be. “Stop be’n so rude Les…if he don't wanna join, you ain't gotta mess with him,” you muttered out, grabbing his jaw to gain some sort of control.

And Lord did he love when you got this way.

Before he could let out another snarky remark, you locked his lips in a heated, hungry kills, as if you'd been craving him all week. Lestat found one hand against the back of your head and the other trying to find its way into your pants.

Louis on the other hand seemed surprised to hear you put the blonde in his place so quickly. Not only that, but you weren't forcing him to join in the activity, even though there was a wave of arousal that overwhelmed him the moment you looked back at him with such lust in your eyes. So strong he could practically feel it radiating off your skin.

Slowly but surely, he'd made his way off the couch and crept over towards the bed, his eyes staring at the claw marks that adorned your back, most healed from various times, some as fresh as a day ago. He couldn't help himself from reaching out, gently brushing his finger tips against your warm skin, watching in awe as your back flexed into his touch while keeping your lips locked with Lestats'.

It was only after you pulled away that your eyes locked on his curious gaze. It was almost as if he was shy in some way, or maybe he just didn't like the idea of Lestat seeing him in such a state. Reaching your hand out, you touched against the top of Louis’ before looking up to him. “You don't have to be a part of this if you don't want to. It ain't right to make you do something you don't wanna be a part of. After all, you ain't make me do anything that I wasn't comfortable wi—”

Your rambling was cut short as Louis pressed his own lips tenderly against yours, his nose nudging against the side of your own as he kissed the side of your lips. He peppered small kisses in which you retaliated and gave him just as many before you two were locked in a more needy kiss.

By the time he'd pulled away, it was slow, just as his kisses were tender. His eyes scanned your face for some type of rejection, just as yours searched his for any sort of stress indicator. “I want this,” Louis started, that low solemn tone of his occupying the now quiet room. “I just didn't know how to express it to you.”

Grinning, you'd brought his hand up to your lips before kissing against his knuckles. “We can take our time, Les won't mind.”

“C'est si audacieux de votre part de prétendre, you do know that I am right here.” Lestat wasn't the least bit impressed, but his back arched the moment you used your other unoccupied hand to grip against his blonde wavy locks before yanking them back.

“I know you're here Lestat, I didn't go blind. But I know how you are.” You fisted into his blonde hair even more before biting near his Adam's apple, drawing out a guttural moan that shocked even Louis.

The brunette would admit it, but the way you went from your normal ‘happy to serve” attitude to this more dominant persona, putting Lestat in his place as well? He could practically feel himself pitching a tent at the sudden change of time you took between the two vampires.

It was even more shocking that Lestat was allowing someone like yourself — someone who was simply a human compared to the monstrous beings the two were — to work him up as so. Not that Louis was complaining, he quite enjoyed it.

“This is for me, correct? A birthday surprise? I assume you'd let me enjoy myself Les,” you purred against his marked up throat. In the next few moments, there was a flurry of clothes thrown onto the floor before both Lestat and yourself were completely nude. Your own erection practically overwhelming the vampires — though his own was just a bit above average and aching to be handled.

Louis had unbuttoned his blouse and stripped it off his own shoulders, but he seemed almost out of place. There was only so much he'd been experienced with, especially with women. After all, he had a child and a wife at one point in time, but this was different. Yes, there was a point in time were Louis fell victim to Lestats' alluring words of nightly pleasures, seeing as being his immortal companion had it perks.

But the clash between his humanity and Lestats' lack of it made the two repel each other.

You however, might just be the key to keeping their bond.

Hearing your name get called, your head lifted from assaulting the vampires neck again, looking over at Louis for him to continue. His quite demeanor was normal for you, but to see this sudden shy side seemed to make you want him just as badly. “Are you sure this is…what you want? The both of us?”

“Of course? You two have treated me so kindly for so long. Who would have imagined I'd have such feelings like this. I'll admit, I didn't expect for you to jump me like that, but it was a pleasant surprise!” It wasn't everyday you had two vampires at your disposal, though you wished it was everyday.

“But…since I know Lestat can wait his turn, how about you let me take care of you Louis?”

Thus leading you here, to a fucked out Lestat and an even more disoriented Louis in your lap.

You could feel yourself slowly tiring between treating the two vampiric beings who had enough energy to extend throughout the night. It was starting to seem like this was more of a gift to the both of them rather than yourself.

Your hips were starting to bruise but it didn't matter at that moment, not while Louis was practically drooling over you as his hips rolled against yours, feeling your bulbous tip grind against his prostate perfectly, back and forth. He moaned out your name like a montra, his own leaking tip ready to spill after his nth load.

“I..I know you two haven't went out tonight,” you stuttered out, trying to guide Louis to a slower speed, but it didn't seem as if he wanted to go any slower than the pace he set himself. “If you don't mind, you can take from me.” You knew that the two avoided your neck the entire time, and getting fed from one vampire was already a hard task.

But two?

“I..I won't—I can't,” Louis tried to argue, his mind as blank as parchment as he fucked himself onto your cock, dragging against his walls and nailing his prostate perfectly, causing him to crying out as he was steadily making his way towards another orgasms.

Lestats was laid out beside you, having had his fun and rather enjoying seeing Louis in such a distraught state. His ass was just as tainted red as the others, his body still buzzing from the aftermath and his cock standing as firm as it was before.

“Louis, it is his request! After all, we are to celebrate him! And don't forget our last surprise for them as well!” The blonde reached up to run his fingers up the nap of the other neck, threading them through Louis' hair before forcing them to face him. “I'm not asking for this Louis, nor am I demanding it. Our corbeau here has given us the pleasure. I imagine it is better than the rats…”

Louis whined out, trying his best to shake his head as he let out a garbled cry. “I..I don't wanna hurt him Lestat!”

Rolling your hips in sync with Louis’, you could feel his walls tightening up yet again, as if he was trying to milk you for all its worth. “Louis, I know you,” you cooed, hand now cupping part of his ass while the other grabbed the side of his thigh. “You wouldn't hurt me. I believe you have more control than that. Are you…going to deny me this-this one wish?”

Lestat released his grip on Louis before nuzzling his face into one side of your neck. He could tell Louis was fighting to succumb, but he also knew you were the only one out of the two of them that could persuade the “vegetarian”, to switch for one night. Before Lestat could get anything out, he felt your hand grab against his shaft, slick with his previous load.

Lestat groaned out as your hand enveloped his own cock, thumb rubbing across his leaking slit and slowly pumping him in a teasing fashion. It made his walls clench around nothing and his face hiding against the crook of your neck.

Louis found himself creeping towards the edge of his awaiting orgasm as he continued to ride you, hips stuttering at a hiccupping pace. “Gonna—gon’na cum, please, please—” He muttered your name like a prayer, feeling your hand guide his head down to your neck.

“Go ahead, I promise…I'll hold strong.” Having been fed on by Lestat before, it was easy to say that if too much was taken, you'd easily black out or die. But you weren't worried such a thing would happen, not with how good they'd been treating you. You could feel their labored breath against your throat, one contemplating to bite, the other ready to dine within seconds.

“Louis…” Lestat urged, feeling close to his own orgasm as well, your hand squeezing against his base which in turn made his hips thrust upwards.

The brunette whimpered a small apology to you as much as himself before he felt the familiar ache in his fangs. Both vampires could feel your heart racing as well as well as hear the flow of blood within your veins.

Your mouth opened to a short groan as you felt two sets of fangs pierce into your flesh almost simultaneously. It wasn't painful, in fact it nearly made your eyes roll back. Your hips thrusted harshly into Louis, feeling his let out a wet moan and spill over himself again, some landing on your own chest. Only then did you release inside of him, rutting into his ass with rapid wet ‘slaps’ behind them.

Lestat moaned against your throat as well, having to pull away the moment your blood landed on his tongue and slipped down his throat. He'd came just as hard into your hand, coating it in his release as you continued to pump him without stopping. A wave of ecstasy seemed to engulf all of you at once.

You could feel their lips against your throat and hearing them both drink from you was a new experience. As intimate as it was, to be cooing them both, you could feel yourself start to grow light headed. Your movement slowed and your words slurred as you called out, “Lo..Louis…Lestat…I…” As your eyes fluttered — struggling to stay open — the edges of your vision started to dot with darkness.

The thrumming of your heart seemed to slow tremendously, having raced from the adrenaline of sex and now slowing as it struggled to pump more blood throughout your system.

The world blurred, your lips parting to speak but the world around you seemed to go quiet. There was muffled arguing as you felt the warmth start to leave your body entirely. What sounded like Lestat scolding Louis and Louis yelling back made you huff out. As much as you wanted to stop them, you felt completely sapped of all your strength.

Suddenly, you felt a wetness against your lips, dripping down into your mouth as you were forced to swallow. Flesh was now pressed against your lips, a metallic taste flooding your taste buds, though the more you drank, the stronger you suddenly felt. It was to the point where you couldn't get enough, gripping into whoever's arm and holding it down against your mouth as you groaned towards the addicting taste.

The arm was then snatched away from you, now finding yourself laid back, eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling. Your skin buzzed and your heart throbbed as an unknown feeling came over you. It was as if you'd been underwater your entire life and suddenly you'd surfaced, and taken a breath of fresh air.

You felt anew.

Out of breath and exhausted, Lestat grinned before croaking out, “Happy Birthday, ma chéri.”

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[moonstruckme]

vampire!james is such a fun concept!

what about if reader was a newly turned vampire too and James lets her feed on him

like the scene with elena feeding on damon in TVD?

because blood sharing is intimate :P

Hi lovely! I don’t really remember what this was like in TVD because I last watched that show probably 10 years ago and I don’t think I finished it but hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking, thank you for requesting <3

cw: blood, feels mature at times but no smut (vampires are just hot idk)

vampire!James x fledgling!reader ♡ 1k words

James hates seeing you like this. He remembers what it feels like—being aware for the first time of every nerve ending in your body, your mind whirring at a thousand miles a minute, everything worse and louder and so much more than it had felt when you were human. 

He’d warned you the transition would be like this, but you’d wanted it anyway. You keep trying to act like you’re alright even now, trembling from head to toe in the corner of the bed, eyes darting towards every sound and movement like your body thinks you’re under attack. The three bags of blood you’d gotten from the butcher lie empty on the floor. Normally James only needs one every few days, but this is one thing he’d forgotten about the transition, he supposes. The hunger is intense. He won’t be able to get you more for at least a few hours.

“Sweetheart,” James says softly. You still flinch as though he’s shouted. “You should try to go to sleep. It’ll help with the cravings.”

“I don’t think I can.” Your lisp is sort of cute. You haven’t been able to retract your fangs yet, have pricked your own lip more than once. “I can hear so many hearts. They’re loud.” 

James nods. He’s learned to tune them out, like the hum of electricity or the rush of wind outside, but he knows what you mean. If he focuses, he can listen to the beating heart of the bird nesting in the tree by your window, the neighbor’s cat, the woman who lives at the end of your street. Sometimes they seem synchronized together, the unceasing, steady beat of life in the world. It gets louder when he’s starving. 

“The butcher won’t be open until morning,” he tells you, though you know already. You nod, wrapping your arms around your legs. “But I can try to help, if you want. You could try feeding from me.” 

It’s an idea James has been toying with since you said you wanted to turn. He doesn’t think you could survive off each other forever—he’s not sure if he still makes new blood, if his body works that way anymore—but he doesn’t have need for his blood the way a human does. Maybe he could sate you for a bit. 

You give him a look of wary surprise, but James knows how you feel well enough to recognize the hope behind it. Any chance of feeding will sound good to you right now. 

“Can we do that?” you ask. 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I don’t think it’ll hurt to try. Might taste a bit stale, though.” 

It’s a lame joke, and you don’t laugh. Your trembling worsens, your restraint barely holding out against your cravings. Your voice is small. “I don’t know if I can be gentle. I feel…weird.” 

James offers you a smile. “I know, honey. It’s okay. Can I touch you?” 

You nod. James is careful about it, not wanting to overstimulate your sensitive nerves. He takes your hands in his, slowly guiding you onto his lap. 

“You’re alright,” he promises. “Let me help.” 

Your brows crease, and your lip starts bleeding again when you prick it with your fang. James gently thumbs the droplet away. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you whisper, scared. 

“I’ll be fine.” He looks you in the eyes, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks calmingly. “You did it for me, right? That wasn’t so bad. Just…” James palms the back of your head, bringing it to the crook of his neck like an embrace. “Take what you need.” 

James doesn’t have a heartbeat for you to hear, but that doesn’t matter; once you’re close you can’t restrain yourself anymore. You bite into his neck eagerly. 

It feels like you described. Part of James worried that you were stretching the truth, trying to make him feel better, but the places where your mouth connects to his skin are suddenly the center of James’ universe. He can feel his blood rushing to meet you, to sate you, fill you up and be everything you need. Your low moan vibrates against his skin, and James laughs, dizzy and drunk on you. 

One of your hands fists in his hair, pulling his head further to the side. He bears his neck to you readily. He hopes you glut yourself on him, stay here with him, keep your mouth suctioned to his skin until you both die whatever deaths immortals can. 

He feels a bead of wet roll down his chest. You make a soft, thoughtless sound in the back of your throat, leaving his neck to chase it. Your tongue licks a stripe up James’ left pectoral. 

He blinks slowly as you wipe your mouth, breathing hard. It feels like waking up from a dream. You have blood smeared around your mouth and nearly dripping from your chin. You look embarrassed as you catch it with your fingers and lick them clean. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“It’s okay.” James smiles at you. He still feels slightly doped up, but it’s also sweet to see you like this, pupils still blown from the taste of him and shy about it at the same time. “You were right, that was nice.” 

One side of your mouth tilts up tentatively. “I didn’t hurt you? You were so controlled when you fed from me.” 

“That’s not your fault, honey, you can’t be controlled this early on.” James kisses you, pleased to find your fangs are starting to retract. “It’s not possible. But no, it didn’t hurt.” 

Your smile blooms with relief. “You didn’t taste stale,” you reassure him. “You sort of tasted like yourself, if that makes sense.” 

He nods. You’d tasted like yourself, too, all sticky sweet and addicting. 

You let your breath out in a whoosh, sagging in his hold. “I’m…god, how do you manage to walk home after this? I’m so tired.” 

“It gets easier with time,” James reassures you. He pets the back of your head, turning you both around so his back rests against the headboard of your bed. “You can sleep, though. We’ll clean you up tomorrow.” 

There are no arguments from you. You’re fading fast, head falling naturally back into the curve of his neck. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I wasn’t as nice about it as you were with me.” 

“Sure you were, sweetheart. You’re always nice, I don’t think you can help it.” 

“Yeah, well.” You turn your head slightly to mush a kiss over the puncture marks you’ve left him. “Thanks.” 

[explorevenus]

my soul to keep ♡ vampire!leon kennedy x virgin!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors. dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 6.4k

tags/warnings: romantic vampire leon, virgin/innocent f!reader, leon turns reader into a vampire, some religious allegory, bloodplay (obviously), gravedigging, some gory descriptions but not a whole lot, one instance of overeating (reader's learning, leave her alone </3), manipulation kinda, praise, fingering, p in v, creampie

description: leon creeps into your village at night for a quick drink, only to find himself infatuated with an angel like you. it's a good thing he possesses the means to preserve you for himself.

a/n: yes this is the vampire leon fic i started like a year ago don't look at me <33 i'm just proud of myself for getting it finished before halloween this year AAAAAAAA

divider by @saradika-graphics !!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

The last time Leon remembered feeling this alive, well… he was still living, and that was a long time ago. When lonely and undead as long as Leon has been, it can be difficult to show restraint upon first contact with anything that evokes such emotion. 

But he did, for a while. You were just too cute, he thought as he stood over your slumbering body that first night. It wasn’t something he liked to make a habit of, but a light hunting season for him meant starvation through the winter, and he didn’t have much choice but to go wandering into the nearby little village for a quick bite to eat. 

Until he found you. 

You looked like a cherub sleeping there in your plush little bed, buried beneath a quilt he could only assume you made yourself. Precious, fragile. You looked especially fragile. 

And humans are so fragile, he thought. You smelled so sweet, it made his teeth ache just standing there staring at you without acting upon his festering need to sate his appetite, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to scare you, or worse, lose control of himself and kill you. 

He wandered silently around your little cottage in hopes of learning more about you. It was tidy but lived in, well-kept in a way that made him think you were probably a good homemaker. Your old leather boots sat by the door, dirtied by years of garden work and general wear. There was a little handmade ceramic candle holder on your bedside table, the candle in it burned nearly down to the base, and he wondered if maybe you’d held onto it because the piece was sentimental to you. Carefully arranged bouquets of flowers were strung together and hung up above the cracked window, likely to dry them out and preserve them. 

And suddenly he realized that maybe he would like to preserve a flower for himself. 

He couldn’t allow himself to feed from anyone in your village that night. If word spread around about a vicious animal attack or some other form of brutality, it would only hinder his ability to ultimately get to you, and he couldn’t risk that. Weak and delirious and ravenously hungry as he was, Leon forced himself to bid you adieu and stalk off into the night, back to his crumbling old castle in the middle of the woods… but not before leaving you a gift. 

His gift. The gift.

Your lips parted in a dreamy sigh as you slept, rolling over onto your back. He admired your face for a moment before he couldn’t take it anymore— if he didn’t leave now, you were going to become dinner, and he couldn’t have that. Hastily, he bit down on the meat of his palm and squeezed, watching as his old crimson blood bubbled up to the surface, and then he held it up over you.

Drip. Right between your rosy, plush lips. Even in your slumber your face scrunched up at the foreign taste, your heavy arm coming up to swipe at yourself like you were just trying to get your hair out of your eyes.

And just like that, he was gone, having taken his leave through the very same open window that gave him the idea. 

He wasn’t a monster, of course. He kept an eye on you as you experienced the very same pain he felt decades ago. 

The next day, you woke up later than usual feeling quite lousy. Your whole body was sore and weighty and, reasonably enough, you chalked it up to poor form while tending your garden the day before. It was an easy mistake to make from time to time, after all. But as the day dragged on, you only felt worse, so you retired to bed right after supper that evening. 

The day after that, you woke up in the early afternoon feeling awful. Your head was screaming with a migraine and your heart was beating slow and hard in your chest. You were sweating and shaking and could barely even open your eyes because the light hurt so bad. A friend stopped in to check on you after noticing how late of a start to the day you were getting, and almost as soon as she stepped in the door, she was rushing back out to the apothecary, begging the village healer to come check on you. 

The village healer loaded you up with tricks and tinctures and anything she could think of to break your fever or at least ease your pain. Dried herbs and poppyseeds and fungus ground up in the mortar and pestle, the paste slathered under your nose, on the bottoms of your feet, steeped into tea that was too hot for you to drink. None of it worked. At a loss for advice to give, the village healer urged you to drink plenty of water and rest, and to quarantine yourself. Couldn’t risk passing whatever you had to the rest of the community. 

You woke up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night and didn’t even have time to throw your quilt aside as you doubled over the side of your bed and vomited. This continued for a few moments until you could barely breathe, tears dripping from your eyes as your face reddened with strain and you inwardly resented yourself, knowing you would have to drag your sick body out of bed to clean up the mess you’d just made. You struck a match and lit the candle at your bedside and hesitantly peered down to survey the damage, only to be met with the image of your beautiful wooden floors drenched in blood. Reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand yielded the same result. 

As you stared at your own blood in horror, Leon stared at you in adoration from the other side of the window. For a moment your bleary eyes caught on the glass and he wondered if you saw him, but if you did, you didn’t react. 

Even at a distance he could hear your heartbeat continuing to weaken. Soon enough you would be just like him, a beautiful preserved flower, and better yet, you couldn’t be harmed. You wouldn’t change, you wouldn’t grow, you wouldn’t die.

Although your village certainly thought you did. It was a dreary, overcast day when the village healer decided to stop in and check on you, only to find you completely lifeless and splattered with blood where you laid. She had to be the one to break it to your family that you had lost your battle with whatever illness plagued you. Leon watched from the shadows as your father lifted your limp, blood-soaked body from your bed and held you close, sobbing, hesitating to admit to himself that you were gone.

By the end of the afternoon, as the sun went down and the drizzling rain refused to let up, the entire village was standing over your grave, watching you get lowered into the soft, soggy ground. 

Once everyone had paid their respects, Leon watched them all retreat to share a drink in your honor, hushed whispers revealing just how unsettled everyone was by your untimely demise. You were so young, they said, so bright and healthy and undeserving of your fate. They wondered what it meant for themselves, and only Leon knew it didn’t mean anything at all. Your illness wasn’t going to spread because he had what he wanted now, and that was you. 

As soon as the final candle was blown out for the night, Leon took a shovel from your garden and began to dig, the metal piercing easily through the soaked earth until it revealed the handmade box you’d been laid to rest in. He popped the top off and looked at you, your arms still crossed delicately over your chest with a beaded rosary tucked beneath your palms, a pale flower in your hair. Your family didn’t need to know they’d be spending the rest of their lives praying over an empty coffin in the ground. 

Leon scooped you up into his arms, cleaned up after himself and set off into the woods with you clutched to his chest like a princess.

It was a few days before you finally roused. Leon had barely taken his eyes off of you the entire time you slept, and admittedly, he was a bit grateful it had taken you so long, for your own sake. He watched over you and cared for you as the last of your body heat drained out and your fangs descended behind your lips. From what he remembered, that was the most painful part of the transformation, and you were lucky to have slept through the worst of it. 

When your eyes finally shot open, he could barely contain his excitement. In one swift movement you sat up on the couch, bringing one hand up to clutch at your pounding head, the other massaging your sore jaw as your worried eyes darted around the room to drink in your surroundings. Then and only then did your gaze finally land on Leon. 

The fright and confusion on your face were evident. He knew you would have a lot of questions, and he was prepared to answer them. 

“There you are, darling,” he greeted you warmly, the first words he’d ever spoken to you. “How are you feeling?”

"W-Where am I?" You rasped, throat sore and shot from vomiting up blood the other day. Once your new condition fully set in, you would heal, but for now you were still a touch miserable. "Who are you?"

“I’m Leon,” he was gentle in introducing himself, taking your cold, shaking hand in his own so he could brush a polite kiss over your knuckles, “and this is your new home.” 

You blinked slowly at him, brows furrowed as you mulled over what he meant, and you came up short. Tears welled up in your bloodshot eyes and you hesitated for a moment before asking him a question you were afraid to know the answer to; “Am I… Did I die?” 

Leon wasn’t quite sure how to answer that at first. He imagined that question being posed much later in the conversation, so it sort of caught him off guard. He took a breath and then replied gently, “Something like that, yes.” 

“Huh?” 

“Shh, don’t worry,” he whispered, kneeling on the floor beside the couch so he could get on your level, his cold, pale fingers tracing gently over your lifeless skin. “You’re safe, your family is safe, your village is safe. I’m just here to take care of you, my beloved, to guide you in this tricky space between life and death. Do you trust me?” 

Strangely enough, you did-- or, rather, you felt compelled to. 

But that didn’t make the implications of your condition any easier on you. You were such a frightened little lamb, your cheeks hollowing and your eyes glowing like rubies and your skin tone taking on more and more of a pallid quality by the day as you refused to feed. He knew you would have some difficulty with this at first— after all, you were just far too sweet to kill anything— but he also knew you would only become weaker and more agitated if you continued to starve, and perhaps more grim, you would remain stuck in this odd limbo between death and vampirism. 

He tried everything he could think of. You wouldn’t drink animal blood, from the body or in a glass, and you certainly refused human blood in either form too. Every time he broached the topic of sating your hunger you would cower away from him and shake your head, eyes screwed shut as you continued to deny the reality of your situation. Starvation brought forth only misery, that much Leon knew, misery and longing and weakness and worse, everything he didn’t want for you. 

For two weeks you pushed back on the topic, insisting that if you couldn’t truly die, you would rather starve than take the life of another. As much as it pained him to see you this way, Leon appreciated that you could be so stubborn about your morals. He just wished it wouldn’t come at the cost of your own well-being.

He left you at the castle one night to go hunting himself. It wasn’t often he’d stumble into humans in these woods, especially during the winter, but he hoped he would get lucky for himself anyway. Leon burned a few hours stalking through the trees and all he had to show for it when he returned home was a few small animals that wouldn't last him more than two light meals, but it was better than nothing, he thought.

Then he stepped through the creaking castle doors and his nose perked up to the familiar rich scent of human blood-- thick and heady in the air, cloyingly sweet and indulgent. Intoxicated by it for the moment, it didn’t really dawn on him immediately what that meant… until he followed the scent from the foyer to the living room and found you. 

You were on your knees in front of the fireplace, hunched over the writhing body of the village healer, her eyes wide and glassy as she choked out gurgled sounds of agony and clawed weakly at you to let her go. You didn’t even seem to notice Leon as he entered the room, a concerned grimace on his face, though it was accompanied by a tangible sense of relief that you were finally feeding. 

“Sweetheart,” he said lowly, causing you to blink with confusion and look up at him through your lashes, the poor village healer’s carotid still clenched tightly between your teeth. “Easy now, you’ll make yourself sick.” 

Your brows furrowed and you bit down a little bit harder, siphoning out a few final greedy gulps from the woman before dropping her from your grasp, your eyes still trained on Leon as her weak body flopped limply to the floor. His eyes softened with empathy as he looked you over, gore dribbling down your chin and the front of your white dress, your stomach puffy like an engorged tick. Now that you weren’t feeding anymore it would seem you made the same realization he had, the fog of desire clearing in your brain to make room for the shame and discomfort. With a soft whimper, you reached for him with both arms outstretched, but otherwise didn’t move. 

Leon gave you a nod of understanding before scooping you up into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he carried you out of the parlor. “My poor baby,” he sighed softly, “It gets easier, I promise. I’m so proud of you.” 

He ran a hot bath for you and left you to soak for a while as he got to work cleaning up the mess you’d made. The village healer was barely clinging to what remained of her life, and while he was extremely tempted to nurse her back to health and keep her around to continue feeding on, he knew it would hurt you. He could already tell you hated yourself for victimizing her in the first place, the very same woman who’d tried so hard to save your life just weeks ago and who was responsible for ensuring the health of the entire village, which included your friends and family. 

So he mopped up the blood, bottled what he could and wrapped her wounds to the best of his ability before compelling her to forget, dumping her just at the edge of the trees outside the village so someone would find her in the morning.

When he returned again, tired and dirtied from hauling an unconscious woman through the woods on your behalf, you were still relaxing in the tub. The water was tinted pink from all the blood and you still looked a bit swollen in the middle, but the color was returning to your skin and the expression on your face was one of such complete exhaustion that he wasn’t sure if you were actually conscious at first, until your gaze fluttered up to meet his. 

Leon let out a deep, sweet sigh, sitting on the bench beside the porcelain clawfoot bath as he took your hand in his and whispered, “What am I going to do with you, huh?” 

“I-I’m sorry,” you said just as quietly, bottom lip quivering as you continued to drift back down from your blood-induced daze. “I d-didn’t want to h-hurt her…” 

“Shh, shh, I know, darling,” his other hand came forward to pet gently through your wet hair. “She’s going to be alright, I made sure of that. But this can’t happen again, okay? I’ll help you get control of your urges, I promise, but you have to listen to me.” 

You were nodding along as he spoke, clutching his hand and shivering in the hot bath. Even transformed you were still fragile. Leon wanted nothing more than to care for you like the fine china you were.

It was fun watching you learn how to walk, so to speak. You were like a baby deer, taking careful steps and looking back at him for reassurance after each one, like his guidance was all you could think to cling to. While your gingerly approach to things was incredibly endearing, he loved watching you grow to love your new abilities with an innocent sense of excitement that he hadn’t seen in a long time, not in himself or in anyone else, really. 

You’d taken to exploring the rafters and the view of things from the ceiling, leaving the candles in your room unlit all night just so you could bask in how odd and cool it felt to see so well in the dark. It scared the moonlight out of him every time, when he would scour every inch of the castle in search of you just to find you perched criss-cross on the ceiling, lost in a lengthy novel in a pitch black room. 

But he would never scold you, never tell you ‘no.’ In his mind that was a very important lesson for you to learn, one that would open you up to endless possibilities and happiness in an otherwise bleak state of consciousness. 

So, when your small voice chimed in from the parlor ceiling one night and startled him more than he’d like to admit, and you asked him a deceptively simple question– “What now?”-- he knew exactly how he wanted to respond. 

“Indulge,” he said just as simply, sitting calmly down on the chaise lounge to look up at you, hanging from the rafters by your knees. “Let me ask you this. What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”

You took pause, humming in thought for a moment. All your life you were never much of a forward thinker because you didn't really have to be. You lived your little old life moment by moment, taking extra special care to appreciate the here and now. You had good friends, a loving family, a beautiful community, food on your plate and a warm bed to return home to every night. That didn’t leave you wanting for much.

Finally, you spoke shyly, "I guess I always wanted to fall in love."

It was so quiet, if he was still human, he wouldn’t have heard you. But he wasn’t, and he did. The corner of his lip tugged up into an endeared and somewhat amused expression, baring the sharp edge of his right canine. 

Leon adjusted his posture, sinking back into the couch to gaze up at you, trying to pretend like he wasn’t looking between your legs where your upside-down position left your skirt flipped up nearly to your waist. He cleared his throat softly and cooed, “You poor thing, you’ve never loved before?” 

Your face burned and you avoided his eyes, stretching your arms out toward the floor just to give yourself something to do. “N-No,” you began, smoothing your skirt out over your thighs just to watch it ride up again. With a short huff of breath you pulled yourself back up into a normal sitting position on the rafters, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I just never had the chance.” 

“What, not enough fish in your little pond?” He teased, quirking an eyebrow at you. 

You laughed, appreciating the way he eased the tension, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I mean, yeah, the dating pool made for a better puddle.” 

“I figured as much.” 

A comfortable silence blanketed over the parlor, broken only by the gentle crackling of the fireplace. You swung your feet idly back and forth, watching the warm flame as you asked aloud, “So… What does it feel like, then?” 

“What does what feel like?” He responded, but he knew what you meant. He just wanted to hear you say it. 

“Y’know…” You kicked your frilly socked feet, “Love?” 

“Well, sweetheart, that’s quite a broad question,” Leon began, patting the space next to him in an attempt to beckon you down from the rafters, and to his delight, the gesture succeeded. You dropped gracefully to the ground and fixed your skirt before curling up beside him on the other side of the couch, your legs tucked up beneath you. You couldn’t possibly be more adorable if you tried.

As you situated yourself at his side, he continued, “There are many different kinds of love. You love your family, and you love your friends, but you don’t love your family in the same way you love your friends, and vice versa. Correct?"

He watched your expression for a moment to ensure you were following along, and surely enough, you were. Your posture was relaxed but you remained dutifully at attention, just like a good little doll should.

Leon felt a pang of pride when you nodded.

“It’s the same thing, just a different kind of love. I’m not sure I know how to describe it, really,” he said, tracing his fingertips along your knee casually. “But I could show you?” 

“Show me?” Your head tilted with that innocent curiosity he loved so much about you, and his heart melted all over again. “Show me how?” 

He said something lowly and it took you a second to register it because right after, he took your chin in his hand and drew you in for a kiss. Only after your lips collided did your brain recognize his words as, ‘Like this.’ 

With one hand cradling the back of your head and the other still tracing little shapes on your leg, Leon’s embrace felt all-consuming and overwhelmingly safe. Through it all, you really did trust him. Your fangs knocked together as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss, making your head spin and your brows furrow in concentration. It felt incredible, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, but the nerves kept you tense and you couldn’t help but fear you were doing a poor job. 

So you let him lead. You resigned yourself to the feeling of his cold lips on your own and his tongue exploring your waiting mouth, his broad hands keeping you pressed against him and feeling slowly up the length of your thigh. His touch made you shiver and tingle in unfamiliar but exhilarating ways and when he eventually pulled away, you were left panting for breath and wanting for more. 

He watched your face in an attempt to gauge how you were feeling, and it was evident you enjoyed it. Leon felt a rush knowing he had effectively just turned a new leaf in your training. 

You had finally learned to walk. Now it was time for you to sprint. 

Leon brushed your hair away from your shoulder, baring your neck to him. He’d waited so long for this moment, for the chance to sink his teeth into you. He wished he could have tasted you fresh, when you were still living, but he would settle for the alternative, and truthfully, it didn't even feel like settling. Especially not when your syrupy sweet blood hit his tongue and pulled a deep, guttural moan from the core of him, his pearlescent eyes rolling back in a display of momentarily mindless rapture. It was unexpectedly hot to see him react to you in such a way. No one had ever expressed such intense need for you, and you were so hung up on it that you barely noticed your thighs subtly shifting together.

But Leon was observant as ever, of course, the movement in no way making it past his keen attention-- you were too precious, too virginal for your own good. He wanted to ruin you, he wanted to tear you apart piece by piece and savor you like holy communion, to pump your undead heart with his own two hands until the end of time, his beautiful baby, his fragile little doll, his corpse bride, his darling and beloved consort.

You were both gasping for breath as he pulled away from your throat, remnants of your tart cherry blood smudged around his pallid lips. Blessed be the gift of undeath, Leon thought to himself, for it granted him the ability to feed from you without consequence-- and vice versa-- to strengthen your bond in the most intimate way imaginable time and time and time again. It still made you dizzy, of course, light and a bit tingly all over, but Leon didn't see that as a bad thing, and as it stood, you didn't seem to either. 

He was just trying to come up with a smooth way to tempt you into tasting his own blood, but found himself pleasantly surprised by your initiative. 

"Can I try?" You practically purred, your sweet voice all hushed and breathy as your dainty little hand crept up his shoulder, palm coming to rest at the leftmost side of his strong neck. 

As you caressed the pad of your thumb over the icy expanse of his skin, you couldn't help but notice the faint, scarred over marks that were dotted about, barely-there dips and craters telling a story that suggested decades of indulgence like this, decades of past lovers, and your heart inexplicably clenched in your chest. Suddenly you were overtaken with the desire to leave your own mark there, much more prominent and recent than any of those faded old others. 

Leon was quick to give you his consent, of course, and that was all it took for your mind to snap into a completely different mode of function. The highest points of your mouth were flooding with saliva and the lowest points were pooling with it, slicking your puffy lips as your tongue fell forward to drag a deep, wanton lick up the length of his cold carotid. Then, as anticipated, you helped yourself to a healthy bite of him. 

And just like that, you had discovered a new infatuation, as he knew you would. You were bonding yourselves to one another in real time, creating a connection that not even true death could break. 

You nearly went weak with how overwhelming it felt, like drinking down pure heaven, hardly even noticing you were moving for a moment as you crawled mindlessly into his lap to straddle him, grinding deep and slow. The pheromones in his sap made your head spin, bringing about the kind of spontaneous sensuality that you'd only ever felt after one too many glasses of mead, the kind that loosened your bones and tinged at your cheeks, the kind that called warmth to bloom at the pit of your stomach. 

The flavor of him was coppery and rich, but balanced, a bit dull from undeath but otherwise magnificent. That it was faint only made you want for more. 

"Easy, easy," Leon grunted quietly in your ear, reaching a hand up to card through your hair at the back of your head. "Don't drink too fast, little princess... just breathe..."

But it would seem you weren't really listening to him, and that needed to change. Thankfully, Leon knew just the way to grasp your attention. 

Letting one arm slip between your two bodies, he wedged his hand down, down, down, until it dipped beneath your skirt to close his palm over the sticky cotton of your panties. That you were already leaking through the fabric like a busted faucet was perfect. You were an absolutely perfect little untouched virgin, and thanks to him, your body would remain that way forever, ripe for his plucking.

Bringing down some pressure on your clit with the base of his palm, testing your reaction, he reveled in the way you whimpered on his throat and unlatched to finally suck in a breath, rutting to meet his attention without a second thought, so easily captivated by such slight stimulation. He couldn't wait to show you more, but he'd need to work you open first. He didn't want your first time to be painful, after all. 

Leon took you at the waist and moved to put you on your back, hovering above your spread out form on the chaise lounge and pinning you there in the most delicate way possible. Every bit of that attention to detail paid off. 

"My precious doll... my most delicate princess," he sighed reverently, stooping low to breathe you in at the neck again, laving his tongue over the bite he'd left just moments ago. "This is what true love feels like, and I wish to share it with you for eternity..." 

He let you ponder that as he continued, working you carefully out of your clothes, finding it cute how you seemed to shift and arch along with him to help him get you naked, like you just couldn't wait. In your pretty doe eyes, your undead life had just begun. 

It was a bit strange at first, feeling his finger sink into you, but it wasn't long before Leon was seeking out your soft spots and doing an excellent job of it, no less. He curled and pumped one finger carefully in you until he was sure you were comfortable, until he felt any remaining tension in your muscles melt away, and then he introduced a second. You were so wet and so absorbed by the feeling of it all that you almost didn't notice at first, but that delicious stretch was impossible to miss. 

"O-Oh," you quivered, head falling back against the plush velvet beneath you as you bucked into his hand. 

With an appreciative hum, Leon allowed himself to become a little less careful with his ministrations, watching your reactions with interest as he worked you open on his fingers, his infatuation with you growing more and more with every moan and whine, every flutter of your silky walls. 

"There you go, little one," he cooed, "you like that, don't you?"

Your response was barely more than an airy nod, but it delighted him anyway. How could it not? You were just too sweet for words, too cute to handle. You could've done or said anything in that moment and he would have adored it all the same. 

Nipping playfully at your throat, fingers still pumping dutifully in and out of your drippy cunt, his lips trailed up to your ear so he could ask in a sultry whisper, "Think you can take more?"

The next several seconds were a blur of impassioned movement, each of you weaving around one another to shed the elder vampire of his own ensemble, revealing his carved marble frame piece-by-piece. You were amazed by the strength in his shoulders, how smooth and soft his skin was from being kept away from the sun for so long, the dark blonde trail of hair that disappeared below his belt, only for its path to be revealed upon the long-awaited removal of his trousers. 

Leon's cock was painfully hard, tip flushed red and weeping with milky beads of precum as he freed himself from his confines at last. He felt the intense need to give it a few strokes with how pent up he was at this point, but he didn't see a point in wasting any time pleasuring himself when you were right there, skirt hiked up to your waist while you laid there panting and leaking your arousal all over his nice furniture. With a pout that pretty, it would be a disservice not to fuck you until you cried. 

He angled your hips with one hand and lined himself up with the other, pushing in slowly. Your expression screwed tight for a short moment as the swollen head of him caught at your hole, an opportune moment of distraction for him to sink in deeper, stretching you out until he hit the root, drawing a shocked cry from your throat that gave way to a pleasured whine just as quickly as it came. 

So he began to move, wanting to draw out that gorgeous sound for as long as you would allow him to hear it. Your cunt was so fucking tight, pulsing and squeezing around his shaft like you were made for it, made for him, delivered to him by fate so that he might just get to fuck you like this forever and ever, and in that moment, he knew he made the right choice in sharing his gift with you. For the first time in recent memory, the future felt bright. 

"L... L-Leon..." You babbled, hooking one leg over his hip for purchase just to find out it allowed him to prod that much deeper. You went boneless at the feeling, finding strength only in your ability to claw at his shoulders for dear life, the faint scent of his blood lingering in the air and making your head spin. "Feels... g-good... so good... don't stop..." 

He wouldn't dream of it. 

Fingertips printing into your thighs, he pulled your legs up to rest over his shoulders instead, driving you down into the soft couch in a firm mating press. You were nose to nose, needy lips catching and fangs clacking between filthy words and gasps for breath as you felt his presence envelope you fully. Leon was in you, on you, around you...

Leon was your home now. Leon was where you laid to rest. 

For the first time in your undead life, you felt your body licking with heat, temperature rising steadily at the pit of you and threatening to hit a fever pitch. Every inch of him lit you up from the inside. 

"Oh, my baby," he groaned, letting go of you with one hand just to swipe his silvery blonde hair away from his face so he could gaze at you like a work of art. "You're getting close, aren't you? Squeezing me so tight like that..."

"Yeah," you whined, even though you weren't fully sure what it even felt like to be close. You weren't dumb, you knew what orgasms were, you'd just never had one yourself, and as such, you had no basis for comparison. 

Leon aimed to fix that, to make damn sure you familiarized yourself with the feeling over the course of your shared eternity. 

His thrusts picked up with renewed vigor, the legs of the old chaise lounge scratching against the hardwood floors with every push forward, and he didn't even care. Everything else about life felt so worthless in comparison to you, the new center of his universe. The whole entire house could collapse and he would still be content, so long as he had you. 

And every time he remembered that he did have you, that you were here with him right now, squirming and rutting on his cock so beautifully, that he was all you had... it just drove him that much crazier, made him that much more determined to make your first time one you would never forget. He couldn't be happier to spend the entire rest of his endless life topping the last performance. 

You were losing your grip, struggling to keep your eyes open and eventually sinking your itching fangs into what you could reach of his throat just to push yourself a little higher, a little closer. The flavor alone made you purr against his skin, jaw clenching tighter, and the delicious sting of it was pushing him forward too. Now his biggest concern wasn't just making sure you came, but making sure that you came first. 

So he withheld, even as his balls drew up tight and ached to release, focusing instead on getting you there. 

"Don't be shy, princess, I've got you," Leon moaned into your ear, "let it happen... just let it happen..." 

Tears pricked at your eyes, the overabundance of stimulation rendering you down into a tearful little puddle, but it wasn't until he spoke up to encourage you that you realized you really were holding back, stalling yourself at the precipice like it was wrong to let go.

But it wasn't wrong. It was divine. It was indulgent.

Sucking back a mouthful of his blood, you unlatched from Leon's neck just to press your forehead against his own, your jaw stuck open in stilted whines and gasps for breath as that molten heat in your belly finally boiled over, and you discovered exactly what it was you were close to. 

Your spine drew up into an arch, toes curling over his shoulders as you came on his length with a cry, thighs trembling with strain. Leon had never been baptized before, but it felt like he was just now. He'd never felt so close to God as he allowed himself to finish deep inside your perfect pussy. 

You collapsed together in the afterglow, the parlor going quiet again as you both caught your breath and your bearings, a heaping pile of mess on velvet.

"Leon," you whispered, kissing some of the excess blood away from his cold skin as you innocently and earnestly admitted, "I... I think I love you." 

He cracked a fond smile at this, if only because he knew you would catch up in time. After all, you still had much to learn, and he didn't want to overwhelm you more than he already had for one evening. 

"I love you too, little one."

[dubina-dawkins]

WINCHESTER'S PICKUP, INJURIES AND CLUMSY KISSES

~1k words

>you get hurt while hunting with your uncle, John Winchester and his son. Dean can't help but help.

pairing:teen! dean winchester x teen! reader

warnings/notes: basically a really tooth rotting fluff, first love and first kiss trope, vague descriptions of reader's past (like death of their family), few but subtle descriptions of injuries, john winchester mentioned (and i mean he's a real trigger so that's important), gn reader, no usage of y/n

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

Minnesota. A werewolf hunt. Ordinary case-- boring, in a way. Just had to catch the bastard and shoot it through the heart with silver.

It seemed normal even to you, even though you weren't even an adult yet. Had to grow up early, huh? God, you hated that phrase. It sounded like you were feeling sorry for yourself. And self-pity is weak, very weak! At least that's what your uncle, the hunter who raised you since your family died in a vampire attack taught you.

And besides, you and your uncle weren't alone on this case, but with "family friends" - the Winchesters. Were they considered family friends if every time John needed help hunting and Dean was busy, your youngest son, Sam, was left at your and your uncle's house? Hell if I know! But at least you got a good memory of that family. And the older son's face, his cocky grin, his brilliant green eyes, his perfect nose and distinct freckles...it was all getting to your throat.

But damn it, it had to be some old, abandoned house. Protruding nails, scattered things, wood that left splinters in fingers - it would be dangerous here, even in daylight, without the risk of having your heart eaten...and when there was that risk, every step was tense.

Especially when the "hunted object" - you tried not to think of them as people, or else it became too hard to hunt - had run right into your path. The rumble of falling things, the pop of missed shots. This werewolf was physically strong and dexterous, so it was hard.

Like when he threw you into the wall and some protruding, crooked, rusty nail pierced your shoulder. It's okay, we've been through worse injuries, you'd think. Until Dean ran up to you, completely ignoring his father's scolding.

"Hey, are you okay? Ooh..." He seemed to swear, but it was quiet, a whisper he didn't want his father to hear. Dean sharply threw your arm, whose shoulder wasn't injured, over his neck and lifted you up, not listening to any of your complaints about not needing help.

"Dad's gonna kill you- sshhiit..." You hissed as he pressed his shirt, previously hanging over his black T-shirt, against your shoulder, treating the wound. The fabric was soaked with whiskey.

Hearing your sounds of pain, Dean lifts his emerald eyes from your wound to your face. His gaze is piteous, concerned, and his thick lashes glisten in the moonlight.

He was too handsome. Objectively, of course.

"Like the first time I'm going to get a punch from him... All right?" He squeezes your healthy shoulder in the palm of his hand, then puts his hand on the collar of your t-shirt, and...stops. "I... Can you slip your arm out of your sleeve?"

All his arrogance evaporated, there wasn't a particle of it in the air. And it was cute.

"You want me to take my clothes off? Pervert," you laugh, but your face immediately frowns as you raise your arm. Dean doesn't waste a second and starts helping you.

And God, the touch of his somehow warm fingers - there was a cool breeze outside, by the way - send shivers down your spine, making you dizzy. But you don't think about it. At least you're trying.

A low whimper escaped your lips as he tightened a piece of cloth, torn from your shirt and soaked in alcohol, on your wound. Maybe it wasn't unusual, but it still hurt.

"You're gonna stay here, you hear me? There's no way in hell you're going to go fight that big guy again right now. I won't let you," Dean said, glancing outside his dad's pickup window. His dad and your uncle were still in the house with a werewolf, apparently. You two could have been alone...for a little while. But of course that didn't excite you at all. You and Dean were just friends, right? Hunting bros. Nothing more.

And the fact that your gaze fell to his lips, then to his cheeks, covered with freckles, sharp cheekbones, ash-black long lashes, brilliant green eyes.... It meant nothing. At all.

"Whatever you say, sir," you quipped, rubbing the wound under the piece of cloth with your hand. Dean just gently pulled your hand away, "Don't make it worse for yourself, buddy." And oh, his tone is so gravelly. You're absolutely done.

But he won't let go of your hand. And you don't want to pull away.

His green eyes came up to your face, and he suddenly just froze, as if he couldn't look away. Dean stared at you as if you were the most brilliant and expensive gem, as if you were a living angel he hadn't believed in for a long time.... Like something unearthly. It would be foolish not to admit that you looked at him the same way.

Dean squeezed your hand lightly, and slowly - yes, very unusual for Dean Winchester to do something slowly - moved closer, but in a friendly way for now. In the same second, however, he remembered who he was, and his hand went up to your neck - still tentatively, of course... "Listen, buddy-..."

"Dean, please..."

And that did it. Dean's one word was enough for him to press his lips lightly against yours. He wasn't pushy, he wasn't rough, he didn't even let himself try to deepen the kiss. His lips only phantomly touched yours, guiding you, somehow even mentoring you, gently (still unusual for Dean Winchester himself!). His lips were matte, a little dry, but damn it, you liked it better than the sweetest meals of your life.

He pulls back, takes a deep breath and leans into you again. You're so cooked.

Dean can't help but marvel at your ineptitude at kissing- God, he could have sworn it made it the best kiss of his life. His lips move hotter, feistier, more needy, but still tentative, dipping down a little to leave a few quick nibbles on your chin and on your jaw--

Until you start hearing John and your uncle's voices outside. Oh, God, not now!

"Sorry, baby, sorry-" the nickname slides off his tongue so tenderly, lovingly, as he quickly pulls moves away from you.

Because after today, the chance of Winchester allowing you to see Dean earlier than after few months was close to zero.

a/n: i needed to think about little dean that haven't experienced hell already (on s4 currently yaaay). young jensen on header only because i can't think of teen dean looking as original cast actor for this role. and because i love young jensen. like really much. think im starting to get a lil' bit too much obsessed with dean

[amberluvsbugs]

Recovery

I've been having a lot of brain rot over @xitsensunmoon vampire AU. One mainly of how Moon would be if Y/n came home one day very weak from the blood they had to give? Knowing that he does not show his tender feelings behind his teasing gestures.

Short Drabble on this idea is down below.

Moon has always been a bit of a teasing, cocky, gremlin most of the time, always pushing you and just being the chaotic character that he is. Despite him being such a tease, he does care about you. Especially when it comes to your health. Knowing that you push yourself so far for giving blood to those in need, including the two vampires that now reside with you in secrecy, it does worry them at times with how tired you are when you finally return home from work.

One particular day, however, you push yourself a little too far. Giving more blood than you should have. But despite your health, you knew it would save so many people in the long run. “I’m home.” You state out begrudgingly before turning and weakly closing the door behind you. Your arms feel like lead and are a struggle to lift. 

Moon made his way over to you, his eyes boring into you as he grinned his sharp fanged teeth at you before stopping short. His features quickly changing into something a bit more of an underlying sense of concern as he studied you with his bright red eyes, brows slightly furrowed. “What? Is there something wrong?” You raised a brow. “You look terrible.” Moon spoke out.

“Well yeah, I just got back from the doctors, you know how the deal is.” You shrug out. “You look worse than the other days.” Moon gives deeply. You let out an annoyed sigh. “Moon I don't have time for your snarky remarks right now. I have shit to do and I don't need-” As you started to make your way around Moon, your balance started to drift and suddenly felt a sudden weakness in your legs. Dark spots started covering your sight as things started to drift lower, and lower and lower. Where you getting shorter than Moon? Your mind fuzzy and not catching up with what was exactly happening. Something moved on the edge of your vision, you saw a flash of blue and your body jerked slightly. You felt something from under your arms. When the dark spots in your sight started to disappear, you could finally see what happened in your daze. Moon’s slender hands were under you before you could fully hit the ground and risk any more damage. His expression was now one of wide-eyed worry as he looked over you. His eyes flit from your face to your chest, then back. His smile was no longer present as it was now in a concerned frown while his stature easily loomed over you in his squatted position. Moon had rushed over to catch you.

You shifted a bit by a means to sit up, looking anywhere but Moon’s face as he still carefully held you. “Sorry, ‘m fine. It’s just a sleep spell that caught me off guard is all.” You mumbled out. There was a beat of stillness before Moon moved one of his hands to drift down your arm. You tensed as he gently pressed your wrist. He was being mindful of his claws as he pressed his thumb to the pulse point on your wrist to feel the thump of your now weak life force. “You pushed yourself too far. You are weak.” Moon softly scolds you. You let out a huff at this, weakly tugging your hand away from his grasp. He was right but this was normal for you. You just went only a touch overboard it’s nothing serious. Moon sighed and moved to bring his hands back under you to pick you off the ground. Your side pressing to Moon as one hand wrapped under your back and the other under your legs, holding you in a signature bridal style as his long cape dragged with him in his movements. “Wh- what are you doing..?” You tensed at the close contact as he moved to walk over to the living room. “Carrying you.” “You know I can walk Moon-” “Do you want to have another sleep spell and fall again?” He looked at you with a sharp expression in his red eyes. “….No.” You grumbled out and begrudgingly looked away. You hated how he had a good point. “But I need to clean n’ finish up some things.” You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but his arms easily held you firm. Your whole body was just so difficult to move. “Later.” Moon flatly stated before moving over to the couch and carefully lowering you down on it. “You need to recover and rest.” You grumbled and your body simply melted to the couch. You were still trying to move to get up but even your body just wasn't listening while you laid down. “You're so stubborn.” Moon chuckled slightly in a tease. He boops you with a clawed finger on your nose as he bends over you with his face cocked to the side. Softly amused by your antics while he sharply grins at you. “And you're a prick.” You deadpan. He smiles cheekily at you before looking over and walking out of your sight. His footsteps and the bells he adorns fading out as he goes to get something. Your eyes already threatening to close in waves of tiredness. God, you had stuff to do, why was your body like this?

The jingle of bells prompts Moon returning back to where you were. He lays a hand on your shoulder to get your attention, being mindful of his claws as he quietly sits in front of your weak form on the side of the couch. Your eyes opened slightly at the contact and seeing him. His head on level with your own in this position while his fluffy cape draped over the back of him. “Here…Drink.” He urges as brings a glass of water over to you. His other hand helps guide you to sit up. You gingerly take the glass and sip the water down while Moon continues to stare at you with his sharp red eyes. Flitting from your face to your chest, and then back again. Concern laced in his features. Once satisfied and swallowing the last of your water, you handed the now empty glass back to him. “Thank you.” You quietly give. He hums in acknowledgment as he sets the glass on the ground beside the couch before you laid back down. Shifting one of the pillows that was on the couch to be under your head. Moon's head now resting on the couch on level and particularly close with your own face, watching you with an unreadable furrowed expression. His clawed hands rested under his faceplate as if pouting or being hesitant over something. It was starting to worry you now. “What's up wit’ you, I don't think I’ve ever seen you like this before.” You questioned sluggishly. Moon looked away slightly as his brows furrowed more, grumbling a bit as his fingers tensed a bit in the cushion. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

He releases a huff in slight embarrassment. “I’m worried…about you.” Concern filling his answer. “You’re… worried about me?” Your sleepy brain was trying to process his answer. He nods once.

“Why? Imma be fine.” You state as if it was nothing but a simple thing. Moon eyes looks back at you for a few beats before moving slightly closer to you. Sliding one of his slender hands to be under the pillow you lay on for more support and brought his other free hand to grasp one of your own that was lying on the couch between you and Moon. His slow and careful grasp engulfing it entirely as he looks back at you once more. One of his fingers pressing to your pulse point once more.

“You need to take better care of yourself….You push yourself too hard.”

You sigh sleepily. “I know Moonie… But every time I do this, I help so many others. You both included. Don’ want you guys to starve.” You mumble as you blink heavily.

“You are just as important, Starlight.” Moon whispers as his concerned eyes flit around your face once more. He gently released his hand that held your own and brought a careful index claw up to tuck a strand of hair away from your face. “Please promise me you won’t push yourself like this again.” He softly asks you.

“Mmmmnnnn..” You mumble out, your brain starting to quickly go into sleep mode.

Moon’s bell on his hat rings softly when he leans his face closer to you, the fluff of his hat brushing up on you with how close he is. “Please.”

“Mmmm okay, okay…” You managed to get out sluggishly.

Moon lets out a huff in relief before looking over and reaching for a blanket that was folded on the other side of the couch. Draping it over your small form before looking over you again.

Letting out another soft sigh he leaned in and nuzzled his faceplate onto your forehead. His arm wrapped around your torso.

“Don’t do it again or you will regret it.” He scolds lightly.

“I woonnnttt.” You drawl out. Defeated in the exhaustion and Moon’s hold on you.

Moon's presence holds you softly and securely as sleep washes over you in seconds. You had seriously pushed yourself too far today as your pulse was just barely thumping under Moon’s touch. He does not have a desire to lose you. You mean too much to both him and Sun.

Moon’s form stays by your side as you sleep deeply, his eyes closed as his faceplate nuzzles you. Whether it be in content or by means of comfort, he lets out quiet deep purrs to try and aid in your recovery. Still paying close attention to your pulse as he rests with you on the couch as if it could stop at any moment.