#ikemen vampire le comte x mc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gunraekae · 7 months ago

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love transcending time - aka the ikevamp prologue still unnecessarily narrated

>ikemen vampire

>everyone x reader

>a/n: here are chapters 3 and 4 of the prologue. it's about 5k words long, so sit back and relax, and I hope you enjoy. i have some shorter works coming soon!

Chapter III: The Hourglass

Outside the lavish mansion where a puzzling banquet was being hosted was a lush coach stopped just past the grand gates. The coachman turned towards his passenger, a rose-haired man who donned a thousand masks. The man, who sometimes played the part of a king, a prince, a lover, but always in all, a liar. He spoke with the ambiguous tone of someone who could laugh or cry at the next word, “... I apologize my good sir, but I have decided not to stay after all.” He faced away from the cruelly smiling crescent moon to re-enter the coach.

The baffled coachman asked, “But Monsieur, what about the banquet?”

The mysterious passenger ominously chuckled in return, “Capricious Fate has invited a guest of fairer mien than mine to take my chair. Hers is centre stage tonight, though I shan’t stay to see how she performs.” His eyes were of opposite colour—the right eye a misty green, the left a bloody red. The coachman shivered at his gaze; this was the first time in their evening he had donned an expression that felt… genuine. And it was genuinely dark. “Let us depart anon.”

The coachman quickly hurried the vehicle off through the night, while its passenger relaxed into the velvet cushions. With only the laughing moon as his companion, he spoke to her—a bard playing to a lone audience, “O, what upturned expectations have come at the arrival of this new player?” The bard had seen MC but for a spare moment, and yet, he found himself haunted by her vision. “No devil can beguile men to persuasions more than she with an angel’s form. Or be she one of heaven’s messengers behind the horns and wings of temptation?” The coach jolted as it hit a divot in the path, sending the bard’s scripts scrawling to the coach's floor. Visible on the cover was the distinct signature of William Shakespeare.

“Sebastian, if you would make us a cup of herbal tea? I think anise would be—”

“None for me, it’s okay.” As expected, dinner had ended with none of my questions answered. Le Comte remained true to his promise, however, and invited me to his office for an explanation. Still, my anxieties were left rampant in my head, and I could find no energy inside of me to remain courteous after such an absurd banquet. As Sebastian quietly closed the door to retrieve the tea, Le Comte looked at me with a sympathetic mien. “I just want to know how to get back. My aunt, she must be so worried,” I weakly muttered.

“I presume you wish to exit through the door back to the Louvre? I’m afraid doing so will be difficult. You see, it only opens under very specific conditions.”

“What conditions?”

“The specifics are difficult to explain.” Le Comte rose from his large mahogany chair and stopped in front of a grand hourglass. It was unusually large and had gold furnishings, the top half full of sand. “The door will open once all the sand in this hourglass has fallen. It’s quite precise and I match that timing with the door’s opening myself.” I don’t like how much sand is in there. And how slowly it’s falling if it even is.

“... How long does that hourglass run for?” I croaked out in a panic.

“It takes a month, on average.” A MONTH?

“Pardon me? I must have misheard,” I laughed in incredulity. I could feel my sanity crumbling between my fingers like the sand in that hourglass.

“It typically takes a month for all the sand to fall. Doesn’t it, Sebastian?” I didn’t even notice the butler come in with the tray of tea.

“Yes, M. le Comte. Meaning she will not be able to return for another month.” I squeezed my eyes, hoping this was all some sort of nightmare.

“We’re in Paris, yes?” I asked in trepidation. There has to be another way to leave. As le Comte sipped his tea, he nodded.

“I’ll just leave through the front door. How far are we from the Louvre?” No one said I had to leave through that strange door. Why would I need to use that to return? I can just get back to the hotel and apologize to my aunt for being gone for this long. Le Comte picked up a newspaper from his desk and gently placed it on my lap.

“I’d like you to look at the date.”

I looked at the date and grew cold. This didn’t feel fake—the news articles, the feel. It was genuine.

“This is from this morning’s edition. As you’ve no doubt gathered from the date, we’re in the nineteenth century.”

“There’s no way,” I whispered under my breath.

Le Comte spoke in the same soothing tone, “We’re in France, but not the one you know. You arrived at this mansion by travelling through time.”

I don’t understand. No words came to my mind. There was not a single statement he said that could be serious. And yet, everything I’ve witnessed so far could attest to what he’s been saying.

“You look like you’re struggling to believe it.”

“I’m really quite sorry, you’ve been very kind to me. But there is absolutely no way I’d believe time travel before any number of explanations.”

“It’s true that a newspaper can be easily faked. Perhaps this will convince you?” Le Comte moved towards a window where an old-fashioned brass telescope was pointed outwards. He gently beckoned me over.

“What an excellent idea, M. le Comte. Seeing is believing, they say.” Sebastian said.

“It is our good fortune that, owing to the genius of one of our guests, this telescope provides an excellent view of the city.” I let them guide me to it and peered within. Sure enough, when my vision cleared, the entire view of Paris turned back in time and greeted me. No neon signs. No skyscrapers. No cars. I turned the telescope around, hoping to see any glimpse of a modern city, but only Paris of a hundred years ago was present. Gentlemen in morning coats escorting ladies with bustles. There was no prank elaborate enough to dress an entire city.

“So I’ve really travelled through time?” I gasped in disbelief.

“There’s a phrase you use in Japanese. Do you recall it, Sebastian?”

“Yes, we call it a ‘time slip.’” The name hardly matters, we’re facing the impossible!

“That door connects to both the past and the present. Like me, you used it to travel here, to the past. You may have read or seen stories about time travel, but in my experience, it is neither a simple nor an everyday occurrence. Time travel has very particular rules. And in this case, you cannot return for the next month.”

“When the sand in the hourglass falls, can the door take me back?”

“Yes, when that time comes, either you or I could open the door. Like so, I must also follow the rules. It remains sealed to me for a month as well. If the door hadn’t shut, you could have passed through it exactly the way you came. However, once it’s closed, that passage ceases to exist. And the door requires time before it can open that passageway again.” I could have walked back if the door hadn’t closed. I degraded myself in my head. It was my own stupidity that really got me in this situation.

“Likewise, all the men you’ve met tonight were gathered here by way of that time slip. That is why people from such diverse times and countries are all here, living in my mansion.” So the men I met at dinner are actually legit? Names from history, famous throughout all the world, transcending time in their glory—and they all live together in this mansion. “I can see you still have some doubts. But I assure you, you’ve just met the real van Gogh, the real Mozart, and the real Napoleon.” If time travel really isn’t out of the question, then I suppose it’s not unreasonable to assume that all these men are the real deal. Still, it’s truly unbelievable.

“And who are you, Comte, that you were able to collect some of history’s greatest figures to live here in your mansion?” I looked at him, fully admiring his figure. This ineffable gentleman who said that people CALL him Comte de Saint-Germain.

“I promise I’m not trying to evade your question, but in truth, it’s getting quite late. Please, stay the night. Sebastian will prepare a room. In fact, you’re welcome to stay here for the entire month at no cost. It’s the least I could do to land you in this predicament.”

“For the night perhaps, but I can’t possibly ask you to welcome me for a whole month,” I fumbled over my words at the Comte’s generous offer.

“You do realize you can’t return to your time for another month, don’t you?”

“There’s no need to worry, I can make my own way. I’ve done it all my life.”

Sebastian regarded me with a severe look, “I believe you’ll find that difficult. This is France at the turn of the century. How do you intend to ‘make your way?’”

“I-I’m not quite sure yet, but—” He has a point. I knew nothing about this place. I didn’t even know what currency they currently used. But I can’t possibly stay here. There’s something they’re not telling me, but I can’t reveal my suspicions, it’d be rude. “I really don’t want to impose after you’ve been so generous,” I finished.

“You’re not imposing at all, chèrie.”

“It’s just that you’re offering me so much and asking for nothing in return.” That’s what scares me the most.

“Please, take this as my apology. If you’re truly that concerned about it, Sebastian could use a hand around the house. The other residents try to do as much, as well.”

Now I was faced with two choices. Risk spending a month in a house full of famous, time-travelling figures, who most definitely are hiding a secret. Or make a run for it and face the risks of the nineteenth-century Parisian streets at night. I squeezed my eyes as images of my worried family and friends flashed by. Staying with Le Comte really does seem the safest option right now. I turned towards him with a newfound strength.

“I accept your gracious offer. Thank you, Comte.” I’ll trust them. For now.

“I’m pleased we’ve come to an agreement. I wasn’t able to answer all your questions tonight, but we can continue tomorrow if you’d like. I also have something important to tell you, but that too, can wait for the morning.” I looked into those golden eyes that first sold me at the musée, and for the first time this evening, found contentment.

“I look forward to it, Comte.”

“I will inform the others that you will be staying with us and are to be treated with courtesy. Two of them did not join us tonight, but I expect you’ll have the opportunity to meet them soon.” Even more famous names? Having adapted to my expressions, Le Comte assumed my curiosity. “One is Jean d’Arc.” Joan of Arc? The Maid of Orléans who led the French in the Hundred Years’ War?

“Finally, another woman,” I sighed in relief, “that’s reassuring.”

“I’m afraid our Jean is a man, though I can see how you’d make that mistake.” At my baffled expression, he added, “As to that, truth and history have a curious way of becoming distorted in the telling.”

Whispers of the past unheard by anyone but him, haunted the air like the specks of dust that floated in the light. The whispers, often cruelly mocking his soul, rightfully punished his monstrous existence; but tonight, a new voice urged him toward the window. An eyepatch covered the left half of his face, concealed by his long, dark hair. Jean d’Arc was the subject of the crescent moon’s mockery tonight. He watched the moon’s smile morph into a bow, bent to release its message of death, then to a sharp blade mid-slice.

“La lune se moque de moi ce soir.” His voice became lost within the ghosts’ many whispers, but the moon’s mocking laughter remained. “There’s a curse on this night.”

“Besides Jean, there is one other who did not join us tonight—” Le Comte was cut off by a dull thump, like something heavy falling against the door. “And that’s probably him. I’m sorry to trouble you, MC, but could you get the door?” He smiled almost knowingly while he gracefully held his cup between his lithe fingers.

“Alright.”

I opened the door of Le Comte’s office, expecting a man but encountering none. Warily, I stepped out of the hallway, only to stumble on something heavy. Before I met the floor, I landed on the lap of a large and hunched-over man. While I toiled in humiliation, strong arms tightened around my waist. The sweet scent of cigarillos and amber engulfed me.

The velvety rumbling voice of the man hummed in confusion, “... never seen you here before.” Looking at him now, there was no way he could be comfortable like that. Is he sleeping? Finally, he cracked an eye open. His wolfish eyes were the colour of burnt gold. His lips formed a smirk as he observed my features with the same attention a sculptor might have given his subject. “Thought I’d wait patiently until you were done. Took so long I fell asleep.” A huge, brown, leather jacket lined with fur served to make his figure even larger, but the rest of his clothing was unmatched and messy, albeit in a charming way. The delicious drawl of his voice made me shiver, but his lupine gaze had me guarded. “So, you’re the one he was talking to?” He asked me a question but no words came to mind. He wasn’t letting go. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted him to. Then, as if waking up from a drowsy stupor, he realized the provocative position we were in. With one hand pushing him up to the ground, and the other supporting my back, we were finally upright. At my wide-eyed expression, he chuckled warmly and murmured an apologetic “scusa” in a deep Italian accent, “Did I surprise you?”

I nodded wordlessly.

He hummed again, “heh. Your words. They match the look on your face. How adorable.” His arm lingered around my waist, and at our close proximity, I caught the pleasant aroma of tobacco lingering on his clothes.

“And here he is. The last of our residents.” Le Comte emerged from his office with a fond sigh.

“Hmm? Are we introducing ourselves now? I’m Leonardo da Vinci.”

“Along with Sebastian and myself, nine of these great historical figures reside in this mansion.” Le Comte finally concluded with the introductions.

Leonardo ran a gloved hand through his brown hair, his voice tinged with that rough, sleepy quality, “I don’t know what happened, but your luck ran out for you to have wound up in a place like this.”

“W-why would you say that?”

“Simply put, Cara Mia, I don’t think you’re going to enjoy it here.”

Chapter IV: Somnum Exterreri

It was not only the residents of the Count’s mansion that relayed the passage of time with the shadow-cleft moon. Ropes of moonlight from the High Gothic windows of the church illuminated the hallways, leaving behind the shadow of a darkly cloaked figure. The innocent humming of an old Romanian lullaby betrayed the blood-eyed creature with the heavy boots traversing the light. The snow-skinned creature gazed at the laughing crescent moon, the light reflected off his softly lucent smile.

His childlike voice contrasted the vile thoughts that swirled behind his blood eyes, “Though it is doomed to the ugliness of utter obliteration, it remains such a beautiful world.” The man, if he could even be called that, crossed under the nave, where two shadows at the end stood obediently waiting. His eyes remained on the cruel moon, but his words were directed to his companions; they were used to his dream-like antics. “Have you seen it? The crescent moon is so beautiful tonight. Let us look at it together. Faust. Charles.”

The imposing and brutal figure of a priest cast his cold gaze on the man. A frosty German voice muttered in distaste, “...Hmph. All the time at your disposal and you waste it in folly, Lord Vlad? We should make the church an almshouse if it’s to host the senile.”

A great contrast to the priest Faust, the syrupy voice of Charles-Henri rose up in defence of their master, “Docteur, le Voïvode wasn’t idle, you know that. He was simply doing his job as a florist.” Charles was luscious candy personified; fluffy locks and innocently dressed with a cherub face and a sinful smile. “I’d love a job like that! So many pretty living flowers that all smell so nice and everyone loves you for what you do.” He turned to his friend, Faust, with a gleaming naïvete, “I want to be loved like that! I want everyone to love me more and more…”

“You do the word ‘love’ no favours, muttering it constantly like a curse. Hungering for it like a depraved beggar. Then again, you do the very concept no favours, you mercurial nagetier.”

Charles playfully interjects in a sing-song tone, “We humans need love. We crave it. It’s one of our most moral desires.”

“Did I hear you say ‘we’ — and ‘human?’”

The creature the two called ‘Lord Vlad’ hunched over in laughter.

“Euer Hochgeboren?” Faust asked.

“...Did something I just said make you laugh?” Charles questioned.

“I simply remember how easy it is to forget my troubles around you two,” Vlad fondly answered, “then I remember how even the good times are destined to come to an end and I become sad.”

“You feel sadness?”

“I do. I feel sadness for the moon in the sky, the flowers in the soil, and the humans who walk between them in ignorance. I want to protect them all so they don’t have to ever feel that way.”

“You love humans more than anything, don’t you, Voïvode?” Charles giggled.

“Of course. I love them more than anything.”

He who felt nothing but love, only love, looked out the window and up to the beloved moon. However, it was not just the moon his depthless blood eyes saw, but something beyond sight. More than human eyes can capture.

“I’m in love with the world. That’s why as the unwilting flower called a vampire, I must bear this garden into eternity.” The vampire’s confession of love was released into the darkness, a promise that his beloved subjects were unaware of, with only the cruel moon to bear witness.

Finally, I’m alone. The fluffy white sheets of the bed that Le Comte provided for me enveloped me in their plush embrace. I sank onto the bed in bliss, gaslighting myself into believing this was simply a hotel in present-day Paris, and not a mansion full of history’s greatest figures. I closed my eyes and the image of my worried aunt flashed in my head. I can picture her panicking at the Parisian police and contacting my mother and father. I can see my younger sibling, eyes brimming with tears at the thought that their sister was in danger. My family… My best friend’s face appeared next, her livid voice demanding where I was and why I’d left her. If only this was all a dream. I was willing to accept that I’d travelled back in time with everything I was shown. But the fact that I’d just had dinner with a bunch of time-travelling artists and scientists and musicians? It was harder to believe. I tried to recount everyone I’d met—if they were all truly who they said they were, I’d be damned not to remember.

Vincent van Gogh, the gentle angel who paints masterpieces.

His brother Theodorus, the enterprising devil that sells them. The brothers were complete opposites, but they seemed incredibly close nonetheless.

The frivolous playboy, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who created the beloved character, Sherlock Holmes.

The indulgent charlatan, Osamu Dazai, who penned “No Longer Human.” They were both attention-grabbing, seemingly overcompensating for a secret they were hiding.

Sir Isaac Newton, who was so shy he couldn’t look me in the eye. He was legendary in name, but his presence seemed so small.

Jean d’Arc, who I haven’t met. I couldn’t even picture what she’d—he’d be like.

“Heh. Your words, they match the look on your face. That’s rare.” The dulcet voice of Leonardo da Vinci made me lose myself so easily, but what did his last words mean?

“...As if the banquet wasn’t bad enough.” Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who made the most beautiful music but had the most rotten attitude.

And of course, my saviour, Napoleon Bonaparte. The one who tried so hard to rescue me, and protected me until the very end. But what was he protecting me from?

I couldn’t picture any of them trying to fool me, and honestly, they all seemed so earnest. Besides, what would any of them gain from lying to me? I wasn’t anyone influential or wealthy; there would be no benefit to keeping me here. Having realized all of that, the reality of my situation finally came into perspective. All of this is real.

“I need to stop thinking,” I muttered to myself. Even though it was midday for me, the crescent moon outside my window brought a wave of drowsiness over my body. I slipped off my jacket and kicked off my shoes across the room. My foolish outfit, what was all of this for? I think back to this morning when I was getting ready in front of my vanity in the hotel with my aunt—joking between ourselves. It wasn’t so long ago and yet everything was so different now. My room had an ornate little vanity by the window, with a mirror that had engravings around it and empty drawers underneath. I sat before it and saw my reflection—my makeup was the same as before, but my face looked as if I’d aged ten years from exhaustion. The glint of my amethyst earrings caught my attention; these stupid earrings that got me in this predicament. Le Comte’s golden eyes flashed in my head—those depthless glinting eyes that I could get lost so easily in. Removing them from my ears, I threw them down on the vanity and stalked towards the bed, my bed now, I suppose. Not even a minute in, the heavy embrace of sleep wrapped around me and pressed me down on the bed.

The soft crumple of the thick duvet woke me up. Blinking open my eyes, the bleariness showed me the crescent moon beaming down on my room, stretching the shadows. I thought nothing of it until I heard the creak of the bed frame. What the hell? Every drop of blood in my body turned ice cold. Someone else was in the room with me. And they were on the bed.

“W-who’s there?”

“...”

My eyes cleared and showed the shadowed figure crawling from the foot of my bed. It isn’t safe here at all. I lurched upright, but the figure shoved me back down on the sheets. They crawled on top of me, the heavy figure pushing down my arms away from my body. I was fully trapped.

“Stop!”

“Don’t move.” Their whisper felt like a serpent slithering up my body. Their breath was in my ear. They stopped, and for a few seconds, I wondered if I could force it off of me. Suddenly, sharp teeth sank into my neck.

A pain unlike any other surged from my neck throughout my entire body. And then, the pain quickly subsided and turned into something indescribable. It’s so… hot. My limbs felt like lead; as if they weren’t my own anymore. Heat flickered across my vision like the fading of a desert mirage. Each warm breath that billowed over my neck made the heat even stronger. A strange longing manifested inside of me, the same emotion I felt when I looked into Le Comte and Leonardo’s eyes. It felt intoxicating. I tried to scream, but instead, a groan laden with ecstasy sounded out. I felt the heat in my core, a slow throbbing pulse that edged me further into blind pleasure. I need to snap out of it! I struggled to open my eyes, which had been rolling back in bliss. Dark red rose petals strung around my bed, snapping me out of my stupor. These weren’t rose petals… They came from me. Blood… That’s my blood! The sight sent my head spinning, but before I lost myself in the void, I heard the figure’s voice.

“I want it all. Your body, your heart… and your destiny.” NO!

I scrambled out of bed, furiously grasping at my neck. No blood on my fingers, no puncture wound on my neck. My gaze wildly darted around the room. Empty. No shadowed figure. No one who bit me.

“There’s no one here,” I cried out in relief. That felt too real. My fingers shook as they clutched the sheets. I was shivering. My throat was dry from sleep. My mouth felt balmy, and when I tried to move, everything felt heavy. I need water.

Though it was difficult to navigate, I retraced the steps I took from the room to Le Comte’s office, and eventually to the kitchen. There were electric lamps that illuminated the room. Sebastian was still up, washing the dishes. After that nightmare, the sight of him almost brought me relief. My footsteps caught his attention, and he turned around.

“Is something the matter?” He asked in concern. Perhaps my appearance exemplified how I felt.

“Could I bother you for some water?” Sebastian quickly poured me a glass. He guided me to a small table and sat me down, taking the chair beside me. His inquisitive glance obliged me to share my problem. He listened patiently as I recounted my nightmare, leaving out the more inappropriate aspects. “There was someone in my dream,” I began. I told him how this figure was and how he held me down to bite my neck. “...sort of like a vampire would,” I finished. Having confided in someone else alleviated the heaviness in my head. In fact, the more I told him about the dream, the sillier I felt. “Dreams can feel so real at the moment, but talking about them afterwards shows you how absurd they can be,” I chuckled humourlessly. Sebastian didn’t indulge in my laughter. Instead, he seemed quiet in thought. I grew worried he thought I was prattling on. “Anyway, thank you for listening to my silly dream. I hope you don’t find me childish for dreaming about vampires.”

“I don’t find you crazy, nor do I believe it was just a silly dream,” Sebastian unexpectedly replied. My brows furrowed. “Indeed, it’s a good sign.”

“How is my bad dream a good sign?”

“I believe you saw that dream because you’re here in this mansion.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand.”

“The dream serves as a warning… That you are to give them neither your body nor your heart.” A pang of unease hit me. This must be the foreboding feeling I had earlier. This must be the reason why even the kindest residents seemed to be hiding a terrible secret.

“The residents of this mansion, everyone you’ve met tonight…”

“No,” I whispered under my breath.

“They are exactly what you saw in your dream. They are all vampires.”

#cybird ikemen #ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire x reader #ikevamp x reader #ikemen vampire comte #ikemen vampire sebastian #ikevamp comte #ikevamp sebastian #ikemen vampire comte x reader #ikemen vampire sebastian x reader #ikevamp comte x reader #ikevamp sebastian x reader #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen vampire leonardo x reader #ikevamp leonardo x reader

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chirp-a-chirp · 10 months ago

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Unwind

Ikemen Vampire: Le Comte X MC; Word Count: 415

…

Sunlight peaks through the windows, illuminating Le Comte’s body between crumpled bedsheets.

“Good morning,” Mitsuki whispers in his ear. A few strands of hair fall, caressing the side of Le Comte’s cheek. The corner of her mouth twitches as Le Comte pretends to sleep. A small smile forms on his lips as he waits to see what she’ll do.

“One of my duties is to ensure you wake up at the proper time.” With Leonardo and Napoleon in residence, Mitsuki certainly had experience with this task. But now, she performs it exclusively for the one she loves.

She brushes a few bangs from his forehead. By instinct, Le Comte leans into the touch, but then recalls he is feigning sleep. “It appears I’ll have to use non-traditional methods of waking you.” Mitsuki pulls a feather from a nearby pillow and begins using it to caress his neck and exposed chest.

There’s no time like the present. A gift Le Comte now cherishes thanks to Mitsuki. He tries to keep his lips from curling upward but fails. With great effort, he remains still, his cheeks growing hotter.

“I must double my efforts!” The blanket covering Le Comte is lifted from his chest as the feather (and a few kisses) skate along his stomach. He moans quietly at the feel of her lips, skin prickling. His eyes remain stubbornly closed.

“Could it be my lover is deceiving me and is AWAKE?” The blanket is now completely off Le Comte. Mitsuki’s fingers massage the inside of his thighs as she continues to kiss his stomach.

Adorable girl, how I cherish this—and you. His hips jerk with her fleeting touches, the bedsheets curling under his fingers.

“I must resort to drastic measures!” She leans over his naked body, beckoning lips just out of reach. Her breath ghosts his face as she hovers over him, legs straddling his waist. “You said you would guide me. Let me be the one to guide you today.”

The time for waiting is over. Sturdy arms wrap around Mitsuki as Le Comte pulls her down on him. His mouth presses hungrily on hers, licking the seam between to part her willing lips. “Ma Cherie.” His golden eyes open, blazing with heat. Their positions flip as Le Comte moans into her mouth, hands roaming her supple curves.

“We still have your watch to wind.” Mitsuki smiles against his lips. “But,” her fingers drift down his chest.

“I’d rather find ways to unwind with you instead.”

#ikemen vampire le comte #ikemen vampire mc #ikemen vampire #le comte de saint germain #ikevamp le comte #soft and fluffy #otome fanfic #otome

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y4h3l1n · 9 months ago

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Amigo, no puedo parar de imaginarme a Mozart escuchando la música de la actualidad, o Napoleón enterándose sobre la reliquia de su pene 💀 Digamos (En el Universo de Ikemen) que al final alguien hizo pasar el miembro de alguien como si fuera de Napoleón, yo lo nombraría la gran estafa...

Puedo oír las voces de Arthur, Dazai y los demás residentes riendose de esto, también me uno a la causa. Principalmente Arthur y Dazai, Sebastian estaría contando sobre eso alegremente, mientras atras de él se estan cagando de la risa.

Le Comte lo sabía antes definitivamente. Se esta riendo detras de su taza de té.

De seguro le hacen burla a Napoleón por una semana. Isaac se siente aliviado por que deja de ser el foco de atención de las burlas, pero también se siente un poco mal al ver que se burlan de Napoleón como el con las manzanas. Recurre a Sebastián para sacar datos vergonzosos de Arthur o Dazai, no sabe por qué no se le ocurrió antes...

Después de eso dejaron las bromas a parte no solo por los datos vergonzosos, si no mas bien por qué estamos hablando de Napoleón Bonaparte, el tipo que lleva una espada con él a todas partes, el ex emperador de Francia, blabla, le temen como también lo respetan de alguna manera.

Ahora nos vamos a enfocar en Mozart escuchando la música de la actualidad, reggaeton, metal, Hip Hop, etcétera.

Hay dos versiones de él, hechando espumarajo por la boca, o neutral.

Imagina el nació en el 1756 y murió en el 1791, y fue revivido por finales del 1886 por ahí (Creo, no recuerdo muy bien su ruta) me baso en la exposición Universal de Paris en los 1900 del 15 de abril hasta el 12 de noviembre que aparece en la historia de Interlude. (Cumpleaños de Leonardo el 15 jiji) Así que ambientado a la música de los 1900 debe estar.

Me esta dando ganas de hacer un fanfic, Ikemen Vampire x reader, pero que todas las rutas esten en una sola, Reader se quede un año en la mansión, y sería tan entretenido, los cumpleaños, eventos importantes, etcétera en uno solo, los pretendientes compartiendo Mc, conviviendo juntos. Me imagino que el Mc llega a comienzos de Enero o Febrero en los 1900.

Avise si hay algún tipo de error ortográfico, o comenté sobre esto, apreciaría mucho su opinión. 💕

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alby-rei · 2 years ago

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I created 37 posts in 2022

Given how busy this year was for me (graduating uni), I'm pretty happy about that :3

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@namine-somebodies-nobody

@ana-thedaydreamer

@readerinsertfanfiction

@nad-zeta

Most frequent tags in 2022

#ikevamp art - 147 posts

#ikevamp leonardo - 120 posts

#ikevamp writing - 94 posts

#leo for comfort - 65 posts

#ikevamp comte - 52 posts

#ikevamp arthur - 52 posts

#😂😂😂 - 51 posts

#😍😍😍 - 48 posts

#ikevamp theo - 35 posts

#ikevamp vincent - 34 posts

Longest Tag: 90 characters

#also also the i hope he goes easy on me / i won't go easy on you made me chuckle hueheuheu

My Top Posts in 2022:

Late Night Lullaby (Mozart x Reader)

a/n: In which a sleepless MC stumbles upon the equally sleepless resident composer, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Requested by @celmanics once upon a time ❤ Happy reading~!

Wordless ‘I Love You’ Prompt #15: Calming them down when they have a bad dream.

[Characters]: MC, Mozart

[Genre]: Fluff, Comfort

[Word count]: ~900 words

110 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

Whatever It Takes (Leonardo x Reader)

a/n: Remember when Leonardo’s family was a major obstacle in his route? Me neither! So now they’re a problem. It’s about time we brought it up with Leo. Different from my usual, which is all about the ✨ UwUs ✨ but I thought I’d give it a shot hehe. Inspired by @xxsycamore’s and @chaosangel767’s Be My Valentine, Prompt Feb. 14: “No matter what anyone says, you’re perfect for me.”

[Characters]: You, Leonardo, Comte

[Word count]: ~1200 words

[Tags]: Hurt/comfort, marriage, family, drama, anxious reader

121 notes - Posted May 18, 2022

Arthur’s Pillow (Arthur x Reader)

a/n/: In which the resident mystery writer discovers his new favorite pillow... but at what cost? (Ans: MC’s patience)

[Characters]: MC, Arthur

[Tags]: Sleepiness, Comfort, Fluff

[Word Count]: ~1000 words

147 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

The Scent of Home (Leonardo x Reader)

a/n: written as part of @xxsycamore’s and @chaosangel767′s Be My Valentine event! I’ve been watching way too many cat videos lately :3 Happy reading ❤

[Characters]: MC, Leonardo, Lumiere

[Prompt]: “Again with my clothes?” / “They smell like you”

[Genre]: Fluff, naps

[Word Count]: 470 words

177 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Ikemen Vampire RPG [Fan-made]

Hey friends, I decided to challenge myself in June to create a short game, and what better way to do that than to bring our favorite mansion to life! This challenge was a learning experience for me to learn the basics of game dev, which I enjoyed tremendously and hope to do more of!

✨ Play as the housekeeper of le Comte de Saint-Germain's mansion, who is left alone to do as they please. But there is work to do, and the residents have left notes in their respective rooms of their requests!

✨ Finish them all to gain access to entries from Sebastian's 'Oh no, they didn't!' journal and learn something new about the boys we know and love.

✨ For more info, head over to this link! (And do let me know what you thought of the experience!) 💕 💕 💕

362 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

I'm so so happy with how well-received my little game was!! Thank you to everyone that played it, reblogged, liked, and sent me feedback 🥺🥺💕💕💕💕 I hope to return to the RPG workshop again sometime!!

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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niphredil-14 · 3 years ago

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Hello! Can you do a Tomboy MC with Comte, Leonardo, and Shakespeare?

Hello, dear! Of course I can do this for you! I wasn't entirely sure where to go with this, so I mainly focused on fashion sense. I hope you enjoy!

Comte, Leonardo, and William With a Tomboy! S/o

Le Comte:

For starters, Le Comte respects and admires women of all kinds, whether they be feminine, masculine, or androgynous. Seeing your sense of style, I think that he would immediately get you an entire wardrobe full of clothes of your preference. If you wanted to attend a ball with him, he would be more than willing to have you a custom suit made if you'd prefer to not wear a dress.

Leonardo:

Leonardo is one of the most chill people I have ever heard of, and I doubt that he would be phased, much less care a whole lot, about your choice of clothes. So what if you preferred a more masculine style? It looked good on you, and so long as you're happy, he's happy. If anyone dares to give you shit about it, he will have some very choice words for them.

William:

As both a playwright, director, and an actor, he is no stranger to one gender wearing the clothes most associated with another. If anything, he finds it very attractive that you are so comfortable with yourself as to wear what makes you happy despite some people disagreeing. He loves your style, and ill not hesitate to tell you so!

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ohtomatotome · 2 years ago

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Watch

—----------

Title: “Watch”

Characters: Comte de Saint-Germain, Sebastian x Female Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

Word Count: 1,598

Rating: E

Tags: Jealousy, Unrequited love, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex

Trigger Warnings: Broken Trust?

Author’s Note: Part of #VisionsOfTemptation2022 for Kinktober (prompt credit to @xxsycamore ). This one is angsty. Why do I hurt Comte? I certainly don’t hate him. In fact, he’s my favorite character in the game. It seems like everything I write for him has him either panicking, pining, pouting, or putting an end to a fight. Perhaps because in the game he appears serene and capable on the outside, so I enjoy seeing him struggle with something that really challenges his composure.

Prompt Used: Voyeurism

—----------

It had started out so innocent, so seldom, so unattached.

When you arrived at the Parisian mansion in the 1890s, le Comte was the perfect host. He had assumed the father-figure role for most of the vampires there, and that same paternal regard was extended to you. You felt safe within his careful gaze. How could you know heat lurked beneath the gentle smile?

The truth was far more expansive than you ever realized. He was always watching.

When you were receiving idle flirtations from Arthur and Dazai, he had seen your flustered blush.

When Napoleon surprised you with his innocent morning kiss, he had been outside the door.

When you were relaxing in the thermae, he had hid himself in the corner obscured by steam and plants. Later that night would be the first in a countless string of nights he had jerked himself off while picturing you.

When you were trying so hard to impress Sebastian, he saw the determination on your face.

When you had reached a boiling point of frustration with trying to understand your feelings for Sebastian, he watched you run to Leonardo for consolation.

When a special spark of electricity passed between your gaze with Sebastian one evening at dinner, he didn’t miss it.

When you and Sebastian were working side by side in the kitchen and exchanging lingering glances and quick little kisses, he had been watching from the hallway.

He had been a silent witness to all your important moments in the mansion. He had held his tongue for too long and let the chance slip away. He could have easily made a romantic impression on you from the very beginning, sweeping you off your feet and making sure you looked at no one but him.

But he hadn’t.

That would have been selfish.

Besides, you would be leaving in one month, so what would have been the point to secure your affections?

How was he to know that the Door would malfunction for so long and trap you here in the past?

In the interim, you fell in love with Sebastian, and he with you. Everyone was happy for the both of you. It seemed only natural for the two humans to pair up.

It would have been unnatural if you had chosen a vampire, to say nothing of a pureblood.

Unnatural, indeed.

Never had jealousy felt so personal to le Comte.

When your relationship was becoming more intimate, you began fretting over the plain and matronly state of your underthings. They had been a bulk delivery of identical pieces that Comte bought as soon as you arrived. You hadn’t had a say in it. You were grateful at the time, but now you wish you had something a little more exciting to wear, since there was someone in your life who was going to see you naked. Eventually.

Le Comte watched you grumbling as you pawed through her dresser. Of course he was there, out in the hall, watching. “Would you like something new? Any particular item in mind? Let me buy it for you. Come, ma cherie, let’s go shopping.”

He watched you run your hand over the silk drawers and camisoles in the shop. His vivid imagination pictured your shapely form being hugged by that champagne fabric, visualized your hand gliding down his own bare stomach and reaching lower, the new light of dawn dappling your skin.

“Monsieur?” Your perky voice brought him out of his reverie.

Of course he had to have you try them on to make sure they fit. He insisted on standing guard right outside the dressing room. He smirked as he heard the rustle of fabric and your delighted cooing. There was immense pleasure to be taken in the knowledge of you wearing the lingerie at his request first, before Sebastian ever got to see them. And even greater pleasure knowing that he was the one purchasing the items that would be closest to your nakedness.

—------

He also happened to watch as you boldly led a red-faced Sebastian into your room one night.

Le Comte decided to indulge his own selfish fantasies for once. As soon as you closed your door, he silently locked himself in the room next to yours. This unused room held a secret known only to him: a peep hole through the back of the closet that was hidden behind the tapestry hung in your room, threads strategically thinned out in that exact spot. The surveillance was originally needed for a suspicious house guest Comte did not trust. He hadn’t used it in decades.

His watchful eyes were on your every move as you began to loosen your layers of constrictive clothing, shimmying out of them until you were only clad in the very same lingerie he had bought you. Le Comte observed this fact with pride and satisfaction. And envy. Always envy, that ever-present thorn in his heart.

You encouraged Sebastian to undress next, kissing him as he undid his many buttons and snaps. Now the two of you are just in your underwear, the candlelight and moonlight cooperating to give your curves the most delectable shadows and highlights. You made a slow show of removing the silk slip until the only thing touching your skin was the pale light.

Le Comte longingly contemplated your bare beauty and silently cursed the butler for not grabbing your hips to see how the plump flesh gave under the pressure of a squeeze. He heard you say something in a low, sultry voice, but even with vampiric hearing could not make out all the words. The hungry tone, however, was unmistakable. It waltzed down his spine deep into his belly. That tone was the last inducement he needed before unbuttoning his pants and taking out his member, already stiffening and begging to be stroked.

Sebastian didn't need any further coaxing either. After you laid on the bed he began working between your legs with his mouth and fingers, making up for with enthusiasm what he lacked in experience. Le Comte watched your lips with rapt attention, how they opened and closed around silent gasps. Each inhale of yours was matched with a stroke of his hand down his cock. Sebastian continued until you were mewling and your thighs started to twitch involuntarily with pleasurable spams.

You pleaded in a husky voice for your lover to fill you, clutching at his hair and tugging him up towards your body. Le Comte had to be careful now, his heavy breaths were difficult to keep silent. He strained to see your face as Sebastian entered you. Exquisite. Sublime. Perfect. The low moan you let out was enough to shake Comte so badly he had to hold onto the wall for support before he erupted. He was close, but he wanted to hold out as long as possible and cum at the same time as you.

Sebastian staggered the pace of his thrusting, sometimes fast and hard, sometimes slow and deep. Comte tried to time his fist strokes along with your sounds, imagining it is him that was making her sound so wanton and needy. In his fantasy, you had always come to his room when you needed consoling. It was his shoulder that you had cried onto. It was his arms that you found solace. It was his eyes that you desperately wanted to capture. It was his heart that you fought to uncover. It was his soul that you had desired. It was him that you loved. Him. Not Leo, not Sebastian, not anyone else. He was the only one who gave you everything you needed.

Right at that moment, he closed his eyes as his mind was painting a picture of the two of you making love in the garden gazebo at midnight. He could almost smell the night-blooming phlox and hear the crickets. You’re lying beneath him, gazing up at him with eyes full of love and lust. Oh! If only you had ever looked at him like that, just once. Just once. Just…

Your sighs and gasps turned breathier and higher-pitched. Le Comte knew you must be close to a climax. He resumed a rapid motion on his shaft, eagerly awaiting that triumphant sound. He peered through the hole once more to see your back arching off the mattress, legs wrapped around Sebastian, mouth open in a silent pull of air, and then – your little shriek that almost made his dick jump out of his hand. Your following moan was all he needed to chase his own finish. He had a handkerchief ready and caught every drop as his chest shuddered with shaky breaths.

The guilt was immediate. He felt dirty and despicable to his core. A sudden gloom overtook him as he splayed a palm out against the wall for support. The elegant mouth turned down in utter disgust at himself.

What was he doing?

You had trusted him. You looked up to him as a benefactor, as the respected master of the manor. As a friend.

And this was how he repaid your trust?

Deplorable. Sickening. Unforgivable. Reprehensible.

Self-hatred and self-pity overwhelmed him. He buttoned up his fly and stuffed the soiled handkerchief into a pocket.

He could hear the couple renewing their love-making as he silently moved out of the closet and into the dark room. Anguish pierced his chest. Shame soured his mind. He didn’t know how long he sat in that room, letting the sounds of bed springs and pleasurable grunts float over him, wishing for something that would never be.

#ohtomatotome #my fanfic #ikevamp #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #visions of temptation 2022 #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp sebastian #ikevamp sebastian x mc #ikemen vampire comte #ikemen vampire le comte #le comte de saint-germain #ikevamp abel #ikevamp saint-germain #ikemen vampire saint-germain

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scribe-of-the-gods · 3 years ago

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Nibble | Le Comte x Reader

hey. This character is from Ikemen Vampire. He’s the newer route that was released, I finished it just a couple of days ago. There aren’t any spoilers in here, just his name. I’m using his real name so yeah. Also I’m on mobile so don’t mind some of the errors. Especially formatting issues. Genre: smut, drabble?? (962) Extra: minors dni, tiny spoilers?

You smelled so sweet to him it was practically irresistible. As a vampire, he often had the intense urge to sink his fangs into your soft neck. He wanted nothing but the crimson liquid to pour down his throat and satiate his deep hunger. But as a pureblood, he knew the consequences of those actions. Abel hadn’t decided whether he wanted you to become a vampire and you were the same. The only thing that wouldn’t change was whether YOU wanted it. If you wanted to be a vampire then he would mull over his own feelings. But if you wanted otherwise, he wouldn’t dare.

Of course, there were days where his desperation grew further than he could handle. His senses were heightened, he noted every shiver, whimper, and twitch that you produced. He knew what every action would cause; every touch and kiss. He knew the way his words made you feel. Every reaction was pretty predictable.

His lips dragged across your bare skin while he desperately tried to bury his primitive desires to drink you dry. You sounded so wonderful under him, asking for more. He gave you everything he had, everything he was.

“Abel…” you whispered, reaching down and letting your hand brush against his head. A loud moan escaped your lips as you felt his warm tongue drag against your folds. You arched your back, trying not to tug his hair too much. You felt his warm hands slide against your calf up to your thigh.

His movements were slow at first, but as the moment progressed, his pace became sloppier. He needed more of you and his patience was thinning. Abel’s sharp fangs slid against your soft thighs, begging for a bite. He closed his eyes, a soft moan escaping his lips at the thought of your blood grazing against his tongue. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? In your delirium of pleasure, you had no idea what the pureblood vampire was going through.

His hungry eyes watched every movement as his fingers gently slid in and out of you. Slow and steady because it made you react better. Slow and steady drove you both to madness but it was worth it.

“Mine…” Abel whispered against your thighs, dragging his tongue across your skin while inserting another finger inside.

“Abel!” You cried, feeling his tongue returning to the most sensitive spots. There was no more waiting now. He couldn’t hold back with such sweet sounds coming from you.

Standing up, Abel leaned over you, his golden eyes meeting yours. However, you noticed a slight orange in them, a sign he would lose control. But you trusted him enough, knowing he would’ve left the room if there was such a danger. However, even if the opposite was true, you didn’t mind if he bit you. Staying with him for an eternity was your dream. You heard plastic tearing but were too lost in your pleasure.

A euphoric gasp escaped your lips as you felt him push into you. The pace was sickeningly slow, but it gave you time to adjust. Abel shut his eyes, a deep groan slipping from him at the warmth your slick walls provided.

Your hands tightened around his bicep as you felt him push all the way in. There was an enticing tightness that you felt, one that you adored more than you cared to admit.

“Are… you ok?” Abel asked, taking a few breaths. You nodded, unable to speak as his fingers laced with yours. His other hand brushed against your hip before moving to push your hair out of your face. “So messy…” he mumbled, mesmerized by the way you looked right now.

Your half lidded eyes that revealed your deepest desires, your mouth slightly ajar as you breathed in and out, your hair strewn about, your hands clutching his while shaking just a bit. All of it drove him wild- this is what he needed. As promised, he would no longer hide his feelings for you. Or his greediness.

A loud cry came from you at his experimental thrust, before he started moving at a steady pace. His needy golden eyes stared down at the way you arched your back, revealing that soft neck of yours. His gaze traveled downwards across your supple breasts and stomach where he could spot a few dark bruises he’d left earlier. Marks only he could see.

His large hand slid across your chest, as if he were a first time explorer of your body. He still held that excitement, no matter how many times he’d already done this. His slow strokes started to get faster as his desperation for relief grew.

Your cries of pleasure were music to his ears. He knew just how much you loved it, he knew just how good he was making you feel and that made him proud. His own deep moans melted with yours as the two of you neared your relief.

“S-so good- more!” You demanded, opening your eyes to look at him. You could see his sinful gaze; sharing his thoughts you tightly held onto his arm as his pace became sloppier.

As you neared your climax, your cries became more desperate. Finally, both of you felt your relief, holding onto each other as tightly as you could. Abel held himself up breathing heavily, much you were below him.

His fingers traced your jaw before he leaned down to your neck. You giggled as you felt him nibble the skin, but wrapped your arms around him.

“I could‘ve turned you today…” he whispered, finally laying on top of you.

“That’s ok,” you said, running your hand through his hair, “I would’ve been ok with that.”

“You wouldn’t mind living with me for an eternity?”

“Nope.”

#ikemen vampire x reader #ikemen vampire x mc #ikemen vampire smut #ikemen vampire le comte #ikemen vampire le comte x reader #ikevamp x reader #ikevamp le comte #le comte de saint germain x reader #♤─ sins of ares

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shookspearewrites · 3 years ago

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Shookspeare Royal Romance: Comte

Upload 4 of #ShookspeareRoyalRomance is here my loves and I am so so excited to share this with y’all! It’s Comte’s turn and I have just started his route recently and I am loving it so much ^^ I hope you all enjoy this writing and have a wonderful day~

Also bonus points if you know what the title of it inspired by!

- JJ x

~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha & Anatole, le Comte de Saint Germain

Le Comte de Saint Germain smiled warmly at the enchantingly beautiful woman sitting in the private box at the opera from where he stood in the grand circle below, bowing lowly and winking at her before he strode confidently up the aisle and out of her sight.

The princess blushed softly, turning her attention away from the stage and towards the door of the box before she rose to her feet and pushed it open, peeking out and down the hallway. The blond count walked up the corridor towards her, grinning when their eyes met and quickening his pace until he reached her. He closed the door behind himself and took the beautiful woman’s hand in his own, kissing it gently, “Enchanté,” he paused, smirking down at her, “‘Natasha’.” He used her codename which they had devised for whenever they met in public, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to themselves by using their titles.

“The pleasure is mine, ‘Anatole’.” Princess MC giggled at her lover, using his codename in return and tugging him carefully onto the elaborate, comfortable sofa with her, snuggling up to his side, “You are so wicked, sneaking me out like this!” Le Comte let his gloved left hand find MC’s hair, twirling a strand of it around his long index finger, “What if my father finds out?”

The man brushed his nose against the princess’ neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume, “Hush, ma chérie.” He pressed his lips to her skin, eliciting a soft gasp from the princess who blushed deeper by the second, fanning herself with the ornate silk fan that she held. Le Comte pulled away from his darling’s neck, smirking at her with mischief and pride, “Are you enjoying the opera?”

“I find myself,” her eyes glimmered with naughtiness when they found her lover’s own and she dropped her volume to a whisper, “Distracted.”

“Is that so, princess?” The gentleman continued to smirk to himself, drawing his gentle hand from her knee and up to her thigh, delighting when the princess sighed pleasantly, “Perhaps if you are distracted you’ll join me for a walk? Delight in the autumn night with me, mon ange.”

“Perhaps I shall,” MC stood herself up and took the hand that le Comte offered to her, giggling as the pair of them snuck out of the full opera house together and escaped into the pleasantly warm night air, the twinkling lights of Paris gentle in the darkness, “Where will you take me, mon chevalier?” The princess’ heels clicked upon the pavement as the couple walked alongside the Seine, the water rippling quietly as the river flowed.

“If I were my lady’s chevalier, surely I’d have a horse and armour, non?” The count queried softly, knowing he was the only person in the entire world who could question Princess MC in such a way and not lose his head, “Would her majesty not prefer a better equipped man to be her knight?” MC’s arm rested in le Comte’s own, her gloved hand grasping his toned bicep as they walked together, the gentle breeze slightly tousling their hair.

“Non,” the young lady replied simply, smiling coyly at her lover when they stopped in the middle of a stone bridge, gazing over the water calmly. MC’s eyes found le Comte’s and she smirked at him, her voice barely a whisper in the wind, “Another man couldn’t love me the way you do. Nor could he satisfy me the way you do, Comte.” The princess’ eyes were sultry and seductive in the way that she looked at the now blushing man who stood by her side, her grin widening when his hands both found her waist and squeezed softly, “If only I could sleep in your arms tonight.” She sighed deeply, disappointment flooding her heart at the realisation that she and her lover would have to part ways in just a few hours so she may return to the palace - She was sure that her father, the king, would not be happy if she did not return on time and alone.

“Ah, ma chérie," the handsome count smiled slyly as his left hand found MC’s hair and brushed it behind her ear, lingering to caress her cheek carefully, “You forget that I am an expert in persuasion.” His voice was a low, suggestive purr in her ear and his fangs glinted in the moonlight, leading MC to gasp in both shock and excitement, “A vampire can be ever so convincing you know,” the pureblood took the princess’ hands in his own and kissed her palms gently, “Will you allow me, your grace, to enter your bed? To persuade your father to allow me your company tonight?”

“Yes,” MC exhaled sweetly in response and without waiting for le Comte to offer her his arm, the princess began to walk back towards her home - or at least, to where her carriage was parked to take her home - unable to wipe the grin from her face, much like her lover who followed quickly behind her, “Viens maintenant, Comte. I won’t waste a moment out here when we could be snuggling.”

“Oui, ma chérie."

Not even an hour later, le Comte was hanging up his coat and removing his shoes as he stood in Princess MC’s bedroom at the palace of Versailles, a gentle smile on his lips when she emerged from her bathroom wearing only a pink silk nightdress and matching dressing gown, her smooth hair brushed and free from the confines of the updo she often wore, “Trop belle, votre Majesté.” The count approached the princess and knelt before her, taking her right foot into his hands and kissing the top of it carefully before repeating the action with her other foot.

“You don’t need to worship me so, Comte,” MC almost cooed to her lover, dropping to her knees to meet him at the same level, her silken dressing gown fluttering around her as she moved, “I’ll only expect this treatment from my subjects when I am queen …” she trailed off for a moment, “And even so, you’ll not be my subject then.”

“Q-quoi?” The vampire found himself caught off guard, his golden eyes widened with surprise at his lady’s words, “Whatever do you mean, MC?”

MC grinned at the man before her, cupping her delicate hands around his cheeks and leaning forward so they were barely an inch from each other, her whisper hot on his lips, “You’ll not be my subject, mon cœur, for you’ll be my king.” The princess let her lips meet the count’s, her pretty eyes fluttering shut when he returned her kiss, soft and sweet with the slightest hunger of desire in his movements. MC tangled her fingers in le Comte’s honey blond hair and gasped against his lips when he bit her bottom lip teasingly, breaking their kiss to chuckle,

“This is the first I’ve heard of your plans to make me king, princess.” The count never normally found himself at a loss for words but, this was one of those rare occasions where he couldn’t seem to find a response anywhere in his vast, intelligent brain.

“Thought I should tell you sooner rather than later,” MC purred, standing herself up and in turn helping her lover to stand before she sauntered towards her four poster bed, swaying her hips as she walked, “Gives you time to ask my father for my hand, non?” The princess slid underneath the covers and met the vampire’s gaze from across the room, “Come to bed, Comte. You wouldn’t want your wife to be cold and lonely, would you?”

“Not in a million years, ma belle.” The handsome count doffed his waistcoat as quickly as he could, not even bothering to fold it before he climbed into bed beside his beloved, taking her into his warm embrace and pressing a kiss to her soft hair, “Your husband will keep you warm tonight, I promise.”

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kaeyas-beloved · 4 years ago

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Ikemen Vampire Masterlist

Navi || Rules

Multiple

Chubby!Confident!Reader/MC HCs (Mozart, Arthur, Isaac)

Romantic/Married Life HCs (Vincent, Shakespeare)

Napoleon Bonaparte

The Emperor’s Daughter in Wonderland (Fic) || Pt.2 Meeting MCs Dad

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Those That Can Play (Fic)

Leonardo Da Vinci

“Thanks Dad” (Fic)

General Adoptive Daughter!MC/Reader (Headcanon)

Sleep/Happy/Angry/Family/Friendship Headcanons

Arthur Conan Doyle

“No Shit Sherlock” (Fic)

“No Shit Sherlock” Angst Version (Fic)

Quotes (Fic)

Fracture (Fic)

A Writer Worn Thin (Fic)

Cooking/Food Headcanons

The Rotten Flirts of Paris, France (Fic) - wip

The Novels That Healed Me (Fic) - wip

Vincent van Gogh

Similarities In Art (Fic)

Shooting Stars On An Indigo Canvas (Fic)

"I'm Fine" (Fic) - wip

Theodorus van Gogh

Right To Her Side (Fic)

A Newborn’s Smile (Fic)

Sleep Headcanon

Forever Yours (Fic) - wip

The Rotten Flirts of Paris, France (Fic) - wip

"I'm Fine" (Fic) - wip

Isaac Newton

A Stranger’s Party (Fic)

Astronaut!MC (Fic)

Jean d’Arc

Warm, Spring, Kitten Cuddles (Fic)

William Shakespeare

Will Reacting/Comforting S/O / MC Who Self-Harms (Headcanon)

Le Comte de Saint-Germain

And As Time Ticks, Stay In My Arms (Fic)

The Vampire Masquerade (Fic) - wip

1410 // 1650 // 1890 (Fic) - wip

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikemen vampire mozart #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikemen vampire arthur #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire theodorus #ikemen vampire vincent #ikemen vampire isaac #ikemen vampire dazai #ikemen vampire jean #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikemen vampire le comte #ikemen vampire sebastian #ikemen vampire x reader #ikemen vampire x mc

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maladaptivedaydreamsx · 4 years ago

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Sweet Rendezvous

Pairing: MC x Arthur x Comte (pov: 2nd)

Word count: >1k (drabble)

Rating: nsfw (better safe than sorry)

Warnings: Implied sexual content (threesome)

A/N: Mind you, it's around 4am as I write this and I just woke up from the dream I mentioned having earlier so... anyway here's a snippet of a fic I may someday write more for. Basically just wrote out a little something based on the aforementioned dream. Not proofread, but hopefully it'll be alright since it's fairly short anyway (under 1k). Implied sexual content but nothing explicit actually happens, but either way, as usual for this blog, minors please do not interact, thanks!

───────── 〔🌼〕 ─────────

Sweet dreams are made of these, who am I to disagree? I'd travel the world and the seven seas, everybody's looking for something . . .

───────── 〔🌼〕 ─────────

After having awoken late into the night from a rather odd dream, you go out seeking the source of your troubles, and thankfully, your search doesn't take too long. Spotting the blue haired writer in the low light of the library, you carefully make your way over to him.

"Oh Arthur, I'm so glad you're still awake, I was hoping to find you."

Looking over from where he was just putting a book back into a shelf, he quickly eyes your disheveled-self in pajamas before replying, "And to what do I owe the pleasure, luv?"

"If it's not too much to ask for a little help, I promise I'll return the favor." You bat your eyes innocently, hoping to come across as meek as you can before dropping the metaphorical hammer on this conversation.

"What is it, were you just dying to finally sleep with me?" Arthur jokes, and for once, he's not far off on the ball with his offhand remarks.

"Actually-"

A voice interjects from nearby, humor tinged with concern. "My apologies, am I interrupting something?"

"Oh Comte, not at all, I'm so glad the man of the hour is here as well." This couldn't have been more perfect, it was all playing out just like your dream! Now all that was left was to rope these two into your grand scheme for the night.

"Wait a moment, weren't you just asking me for a favor?" Arthur nearly pouts, lower lip jutting out just enough to show how glum that your attention is no longer hyper focused on him now.

"Yes yes, all in due time, Arthur." You chide, working up your charm as you prepare to lay it on thick for Comte, blinking up at him as you gently begin to slide your hand up his arm.

"Then what seems to be the matter, ma cherie?" Comte pats your head lightly, looking down at you with those curious golden hues, made even warmer by the low lamplight.

A deep sigh, still lost in your dramatics, speaking in as distressed of a voice as you could muster. "I woke up from a dream, a nightmare, if you will... I dreamt that the three of us lay in bed together, and it was a nightmare to wake up all alone... You gentlemen could really be of some help right now, so, what do you say?"

Both gentlemen glance at one another before nodding silently, then glancing back over at you, simultaneously stalking towards your form.

Arthur takes a step forward, "You know I'm always game, my little dove, for how can I refuse when your body calls out to me so." He runs a gloved hand through some strands of your hair, pressing a kiss to it with a cheshire grin, although it looks less like a smile and a lot more like the way predator would eye prey.

Not missing a beat, the golden-haired man takes a step forward, wrapping an arm around your waist from behind. "Anything for ma cherie," says Comte before his voice seemingly drops an octave, "anything at all." He places a seemingly innocent kiss to the hollow of your neck, the smirk indiscernible in the dim light of the library, yet still carried through his featherlight love bite.

And this was how you found yourself having the night of your life with two of the finest men of the bachelor pad vampire mansion; it was everything you could have dreamed of and more. For who could deny oneself the pleasure of such attentive lovers, when they seek not to deny themselves of their insatiable attraction to you?

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fandom-collective-writers · 4 years ago

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Vampire in a Bottle (Le Comte de Saint-Germain x MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Le Comte de Saint-Germain x MC

Prompt: cursed object

Warning: Smut!!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 7,251

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsister/@lordsisterxotome (Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3)

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: I legit expected this to be 5 maybe 6 pages long. Was not expecting it to end up being 15 whole ass pages long.

She’d heard stories about creatures tied to objects, bound to them my wizards or witches or priests. Everyone had. The djinni of the lamp, silkies and their skin, even myths of demons lending their bloodlust to legendary swords.

The vampire stuck in the wine bottle though, now that was a first.

It had come as a surprise when MC had first stumbled upon the mansion on one of her hikes outside the city. She must’ve hiked the same path a hundred times and never had she caught so much as a glimpse of the sprawling estate, even if it was only a shell of its obvious former glory now. Had she taken a wrong path somewhere? Drifted away in her thoughts too much and unintentionally wandered away into the bushes? Looking back the way she’d come, she realized that no, she hadn’t veered in any way from her usual path, which made the sudden appearance of the mansion especially strange.

It was quite the complex, all graceful arches and columns, reds and whites. A massive fountain topped with a headless statue centered an overgrown path, and even from her vantage point still a ways away from the building, she could tell that what was once a manicured garden lay behind the mansion. It was like something out of a fairy tail; she wondered about it’s story, who lived here and what events had taken place within its walls. Now, the place was positively decrepit, still somewhat majestic, but old and creepy nonetheless.

So, doing what any normal person would do, MC thought, ‘Very old and creepy,’ and turned back the way she’d come. There was no way in hell she was going to wander in like some airheaded protagonist out of a horror movie and get pestered or possessed or who knows what else. Nope. She was going to choose life today.

It seemed her fears about the place being somewhat supernatural were true though, because a few minutes later, when she was sure she was about to step back onto a more familiar leg of the path, she emerged right on the same cliff overlooking the estate as before. The mansion sat there expectantly and she almost imagined it was saying, “Oh, you’re back.”

Blinking, she stared for a moment before scoffing and shaking her head, soft mutters of “no, no, no, no, no,” falling from her lips as she turned away and rubbed her eyes. Her heart was beating a little faster now, sweat forming on the back of her neck. This was too strange. She’d hiked this path a hundred times and there had never, ever been a mansion here before. Furthermore, there was no way she was going around in circles. She knew the area and its trails well enough to have been able to find her way even if she did get lost.

Pulling out her phone, MC tried and failed to find her location on the google maps, cursing as the words ‘No Signal’ replaced the usual friendly bars in the left-hand corner. Shoving the device back into her pocket, she sighed and stomped back down the path. This time she paid attention to familiar landmarks, carefully retracing her steps. For a second, she thought for sure she was in the clear, that she would come out on the path and walk away to forget this ever happened as some strange hallucination.

Apparently that was not to be the case today though as, lo and behold, when she ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, there she was again, the mansion laid out and waiting before her. She could practically feel it rolling its eyes at her this time.

Collapsing on the leaves and pine needles, she laughed breathlessly. No way was this happening. Why today of all days? Why couldn’t the universe just let her keep having her normal days without throwing in a mansion that appeared and disappeared like a ghost ship too? She felt like she was going crazy.

After a few minutes of deep breathing and burying her face in her knees, trying to rub the image of the mansion away, she rose to her feet. This place wanted her to...do something? Fine. She had a feeling it would just keep making her walk in circles until she came inside. Best case scenario it really was just an old mansion and she would find another way back to the trail after having searched the property. Worst case scenario? She was dragged to the underworld by whatever vengeful ghosts might inhabit the place. No problem, right?

Her legs felt weak as she picked her way down the cliffside, slowly getting closer and closer to the hulking abode. The grass on the vast lawn was so overgrown she had a hard time making her way across it, nearly tripping a couple of times when it got caught around her calves and ankles. As she got closer, she started to realize just how massive the place really was. So similar to most of the castles and palaces and royal mansions she’d visited on trips, whoever had built this place and lived here had gone for extravagance, a show of wealth, but something about it was quiet in a way that made it seem like it was meant to be tucked away back here. It would have been beautiful if the situation were different and she wasn’t so freaked out.

On the bright side, at least the weather wasn’t cloudy like these kinds of places usually were in books and movies, and she didn’t have the feeling anyone was watching her. It was a sunny day, the sky blue and dotted here and there with the occasional cloud. It was a small comfort, but comfort nonetheless as she faced the beast.

Taking a minute, MC just stood there in front of the mansion, staring up at broken windows and ivy covered columns and weeds poking up through the stones. “What do you want from me?” she grumbled to herself before shaking her head and taking a deep breath.

Heavy iron rings hung on the wooden doors, their white paint peeled away to reveal the brown wood beneath. Her hand looked tiny in comparison to the ring as she grasped it, cold and dark against her skin, and pulled the door open. It grated against the floor as it opened, and she paused, tensed and waiting for something to jump out at her, for a swarm of bats or something. But nothing came and after a minute, she peered inside. Part of the roof had fallen in, allowing shafts of daylight to pierce the gloom and illuminate the grand receiving hall. Her shoes padded softly against the marble floor as she took a few steps inside, careful of the debris. A grand staircase of white stone led up to a second story and as she turned in a circle to fully take in the room MC saw more signs of wealth: giant paintings, moth-eaten tapestries, silver candlesticks nearly too tarnished to recognize.

A gentle breeze blew in from the open door behind her, stirring leaves across the floor and up the stairs. After another quick glance around, she crept up the staircase, brushing her fingers across the cold, stone banister as she did. Choosing to turn to her left once she was at the top of the stairs, she followed a long hallway in what she guessed was the west wing. More paintings and golden sconces decorated the walls, curtains made of dusty velvet framing smashed windows. The mansion had yet to make its next move, to give her any indication of what it wanted her to do, where it wanted her to go. It was hard to tell because everything was so old and nature had long since started reclaiming the place, but she thought she saw signs of a struggle, irregularly torn canvases and tables knocked over, their vintage contents spilled all over the floor.

She startled, gasping, when a door at the end of the hall creaked open, a strong breeze whistling down the corridor and urging her along. MC could feel the mansion’s impatience pushing in at her from all sides, tugging at her hair and pushing at her back. Balling her fists, she gulped and creeped towards the indicated entryway, trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever she might find.

Her breath stuck in her throat as she took a careful look inside, surprised at the luxury and opulence that met her gaze. The chamber was so large and gilded it had to be the master bedroom. The walls and ceiling were framed in gold, the ceiling painted with some scene that belonged in a cathedral. The canopied bed had long since succumbed to moths and the forces of nature, but the size of it could have rivaled any king size bed, and the rugs, once richly colored, still retained some of their ancient plushness as she stepped into the room. Reaching out, she ran her fingers along the carved edge of a table, tracing the intricate whorls and flowers. The same signs of a struggle were here too, a sharp gash taken out of the leg of the table and old books and shattered glass lying on the floor.

A strong gust of wind blew in from the broken window, disturbing the heavy velvet curtains and knocking an old wine bottle off the small table in front of the broken pane. She winced as the bottle hit the floor, expecting it to shatter, but instead it bounced, rolling until it stopped against her foot.

MC blinked and bent down to pick it up, noting the strange weight inside it. There wasn’t a label and she tipped it back and forth in her palm, weighing its contents. The red glass was too dark to see whatever was inside, but it didn’t feel like liquid sloshing around, that was for sure. Idly tapping a nail against the cool surface as she went to put it back on the table, she nearly screamed when something tapped back.

Letting go of the bottle and skittering back, she tripped over a chair, sending her falling on her ass. The bottle didn’t bounce this time, shattering instead with a sound like thunder that shook the mansion. A whirlwind filled the room, sending debris flying as it exploded outwards. Crouching and covering her head with her arms, MC waited, eyes squeezed shut and heart pounding, for whatever was happening to stop. It could’ve been seconds or minutes; she barely knew which as the gale settled, ending as quickly as it had begun. Uncovering her head, she peeked, shaking, around the room. Anything that had been in contact certainly wasn’t now, nothing but shafts of wood and scraps of fabric remaining. But the furniture held the least of her attention right now, not with the sudden appearance of the room’s other occupant.

He was on his knees, heaving and gasping. She couldn’t see his face from her place behind the chair, only locks of yellow hair. His clothes - a long coat of burnished gold, brown trousers, and soft leather boots - were all embroidered in gold thread, rich and quietly vibrant.

She didn’t understand who he was or where he had come from. It refused to click in her mind that he had actually been stuck in that wine bottle, tapping back to her. People didn’t come from inside bottles. That kind of thing only happened in myths and fairy tales - things that were only stories.

Rising to her feet on legs still shaky, she kept her gaze on the man as she slid a foot back, thinking to make a quiet exit, unnoticed. Of course, with so much debris scattered about the room, something like a quiet escape was absolutely impossible. Before the edge of her shoe had moved even a few inches, it disturbed a shard of wood with enough force to send it scittering a few inches over the stone floor, breaking the silence only broken by his heavy breathing.

Piercing yellow eyes snapped to her and she gasped at the intensity within their depths, frozen, a deer in headlights. He turned, stumbling to his feet, eyes still locked with hers, and dear god, she believed in fairy tales looking at him. His face was unnaturally beautiful, something someone had dreamed up rather than someone born. It spoke of marble sculptures carved in his image, of candlelight on silk sheets, and there was a depth to his eyes, something she couldn’t fathom, something that marked him as...inhuman.

MC hadn’t realized that her jaw had dropped and she swallowed, opening her mouth to say something and choking on air. Before she could manage her way through anything even vaguely coherent, he surged forward, barely a centimeter in front of her in the blink of an eye. Yelping, she tried to jump back, but his arms were already around her, dragging her against his chest. She struggled fruitlessly in his grip as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, lips and nose nuzzling against the soft skin as he breathed deep of her scent.

“W-What are you-? S-Stop!” she demanded weakly, the panic rising in her chest choking her pleas.

“Smells so good,” the stranger breathed, his voice hoarse from disuse, and pulled back just enough that he could peer into her wide eyes. He looked absolutely wild now, ravenous and uncontrollable. “I’m sorry, but I need your help, mademoiselle.”

The hand around her shoulders grabbed a handful of her hair, gently moving it away from her neck. Her fingers clawed into his lapels as she stared at him, fearful and confused, prey in the arms of a predator. His face lowered to her neck once again and she shivered as his breath fanned against her skin. What was he doing?

“Try to relax, ma cherie.”

The unexpected pain of two fangs sinking into her made her scream, bucking in his unyielding hold as he took long drawls of her blood.

It was physical pain as well as mental pain, the pain of confusion and everything she’d thought she’d known about the realistic world cracking. Pain. And then pleasure. Pleasure unlike any she had ever experienced before, setting her entire body alight and turning her mind white.

And that was how she met him, Le Comte de Saint-Germain, a starving vampire trapped inside a wine bottle for 100 years.

She’d woken later with her head in his lap, the ghost of his touch on her cheek stirring her. The ceiling spun above her and MC groaned, turning into him and covering her eyes with an arm.

“Shh, you’re okay, ma cherie. It’ll pass soon.”

Her eyes flew open, met with an abundance of gold and yellow, and she shot upwards, falling on her side as the world spun again. Hands reached to steady her out of the corner of her vision, but she flinched away from them, remembering the strange pain and pleasure his bite had brought.

“Stop!” she bit out, and he did, hovering a few feet away from her. “Who are you and what did you do to me?!”

He blinked at her, seeming to think for a second before answering with a gentle smile, “I am Le Comte de Saint-Germain, and...moments ago I was starving for your blood.”

“Starving for my-” She shook her head, still confused and afraid. “What?”

“I’m not human, as you might have guessed.” His tone was polite, but warm, friendly as he spoke to her. “I’m a creature out of your myths and folklore, a vampire.”

And her day officially couldn’t get any weirder!

There, sitting on the cold, stone floor and shredded rugs, Le Comte had told her his story, that he was an immortal vampire trapped inside a wine bottle by another of his kind who he’d once considered a friend. He had been the one to build the mansion and live in it, assimilating into human high society and traveling between countries for centuries until the event of his capture.

When MC had asked him about how the mansion had appeared and disappeared, he’d answered that it was part of the curse placed on him, that none should have been able to find and release him. Even he didn’t know how she had managed to stumble upon it.

She believed him, choosing to trust the earnestness in his gaze when he’d apologized for biting her in a fit of starvation, but it was still a lot to take in, and they just sat there like that, blinking at each other, for a good minute or so. He seemed just as curious of her as she was of him, a little disoriented too, but she guessed that was to be expected after being trapped in a wine bottle for a hundred years. Finally, she said, “So what happens now? What are you going to do now that you’re free?” What was she going to do? She couldn’t just walk away from this place like it had never happened, right?

He hummed, chuckling as he gazed around at the ruin of his home. “Rebuild, I suppose; catch up on what I’ve missed in the past hundred years.”

MC blinked, biting her lip as she contemplated the impact of what she was about to say. An hour ago, all she had wanted to do was get away from this place, to forget it and never see it again, but now her heart felt strangely heavy at the thought. If she left this place behind now, she would regret it, she could feel it in her bones. Could she be blamed for wanting to live out whatever fairy tale this was, just for a little longer?

“I…” Those yellow eyes met hers again, and her fate was sealed. “I might be able to help you with that.”

Thus began her relationship with an immortal vampire, visiting him every day with new technology and books on the modern age for him to catch up with. More than once, he returned to the city with her, eager and capable of exploring for himself. He adjusted surprisingly easily to the new time period and all the technological advances that came with it, but she guessed that was part of being immortal, having to adapt quickly to the change of time.

She didn’t know what magic he possessed, but every day the mansion looked a little better, damaged furnishings either replaced or repaired, broken windows whole again, even the hole in the ceiling of the entry was miraculously fixed when she came one day. The lawn and garden still needed a great deal of attention, but those could definitely wait, especially since Le Comte was still weak after his long entrapment.

“Le Comte?” MC called as she pushed the door open. The mansion welcomed her like an old friend now, warmth and the faint smell of sandalwood wrapping around her as she stepped into the entryway. She’d come to look forward to these daily meetings, noticeably out of it to her friends and colleagues when work or bad weather kept her from making the trip.

“Here, ma cherie,” she heard him call from somewhere up the staircase. He could’ve been anywhere in this massive place and she still would have heard his call - another magical feature of the mansion and its connection with its owner.

It was weird. It had been months since she had found the mansion and Le Comte, but already she could barely remember what her life was like before. Her happiest moments were spent here, with him, her days filled with the smell of chamomile that she’d come to know as Le Comte’s, and easing the tension in her shoulders from the stress of modern life.

But it was more than that too, so much more.

She wasn’t dense. She knew what it meant for her heart to flutter the way it did at the mere thought of him. Truly, she’d had no intent of pursuing anything more than friendship when she started helping him. What more could there be between a human and a vampire? It had all seemed like a fairy tale, the beautiful mansion and the equally beautiful man in the bottle, waiting for her to find them, but this story would not end in romance, she was sure of it...or at least she had been.

She’d tried to reason with herself at first, that it was just the allure of something new and strange and magical in her ordinary life, that it was just the natural attraction of a vampiric predator to his human prey, but when had reason ever convinced a love-struck heart? He wasn’t going to hurt her, she was sure of that, and there were plenty of nice men in her normal life that she could have chosen from if she wanted a change of pace. No, she was in love with Le Comte and there was nothing she could do about it, no forwards or backwards, no place for her love to go, so it bloomed quietly in her chest, growing with each affectionate smile he sent her way.

MC found him hanging a painting in the hallway, a landscape she remembered him asking her opinion on last week when they went into town together. It made her cheeks warm a little, remembering his approving nod when she’d told him she liked it. The long, pale yellow coat he’d adopted lay across the back of a nearby chair, and the sleeves of his white button-up were rolled up, exposing pale forearms. It shouldn’t have made her blush, but to her shame it did, the sight of her crush’s bared skin making her feel like some pervert, excited by the least bit of exposed skin.

“What do you think?” Stepping away from the painting, he dusted his hands off and she did her best to keep her eyes away from the elegant flex of his fingers.

“Looks nice,” she answered simply, turning her gaze to the painting and anywhere other than him. She could feel him looking at her, and she wondered what he was thinking, what was going on inside his head.

He hummed, pleased. “I bought it with you in mind.”

“W-Why?” She didn’t know what to say. Lately, it was like each word he said to her was intended to make her heart pound.

“I thought there should be something of you here.”

Her cheeks were as good as on fire now, and she resisted the urge to reach up and press her cool palms against the heated skin. “I-I see.” She kept her gaze glued to the painting, staring but not seeing the whorls and colors that made up the bodies of two lovers entwined and hidden within the painting, not daring to look at him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

He didn’t respond, and the atmosphere suddenly felt too heavy, too many implications in his gaze, in buying this particular painting. Clearing her throat, she turned on her heel even as she spoke, “I’m going to go finish the cleaning I started in the kitchen yesterday.” MC cursed the way her voice swooped and dove, unwilling to settle on a tone and octave.

He chuckled and the sound warmed her to her bones. “Okay.”

Her legs felt shaky as she made her way back down the steps and to the kitchen, blowing out a long breath as soon as she deemed herself far enough away from him. Mechanically, she pulled out the cutlery she’d been polishing the day before, her mind drifting as she did. Her heart felt shaky in her chest, fluttering and pounding and ready to run back up the stairs and throw itself into the hands of the vampire it belonged to. But she would do her best not to let it.

Falling in love with him was one thing. Starting a relationship with him was another. She couldn’t fully fathom what it would mean to be a vampire’s mate, what impact it would have on her human life, but she knew the cost would be immense. Besides, there was no telling if he even returned her feelings. He cared for her as any friend would - she knew that at least - and the affection he displayed was undeniable, but she refused to see it as anything more than platonic. Le Comte had already lived so much longer than her, and probably loved more than her too. Making assumptions would only lead to pain on both their parts.

MC jumped, a noise of pain and surprise passing her lips, when her fingers slipped on the steak knife she’d been polishing, the sharp edge slicing the skin of her thumb. In seconds, a line of blood rose to the surface, gathering to drip down her skin in small drops. Hissing in pain, she turned to the sink, about to clean the wound, but she jumped when her attention caught on the sudden figure in the doorway. She hadn’t heard Le Comte approach, hadn’t even felt his presence, and how still he stood as he hovered in the doorway was immediately unsettling.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” she tried to fill the silence, “I cut myself on one of the knives.”

Still nothing from him, his gaze locked on her bleeding thumb.

“Le Comte?”

He seemed to startle out of whatever trance he’d fallen into, a shudder passing through him as he glanced up at her face before looking away entirely. His usual poise and grace was replaced by something hard, something sad. “You should leave,” he murmured, eyes shaded by his golden hair as he turned away from her, his movements stiff.

She blinked. “What? Why? I-”

“Leave.” His voice was harder now, resonating with something that gripped her soul with icy claws. “Now.”

So she did, helpless to disobey. Holding her bleeding hand, she ducked past him and hurried down the hall, through the door and down the path before her mind started to catch up. It hurt to be pushed away so cruelly by the one she loved, but she knew why he had done it, the memory of his fangs plunging into her neck months ago still a fresh reminder. He’d promised never to hurt her again, but he was still a vampire, surviving on blood. One slip up and...why didn’t the idea of him biting her bring her fear anymore?

Her steps were small and slow as MC walked to the mansion the next day, tripping and stumbling more than once over roots and rocks she had always avoided easily before. She hadn’t slept well the night before, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes, those golden eyes were there, inviting her closer. She had considered not even coming today, but she’d eventually decided otherwise after spending all day unable to focus and watching the sun near the horizon from her bedroom window. Something restless in her heart wouldn’t let her avoid him.

“Comte?” she called, too softly, when she opened the door. The newly polished wood and iron gave way easily under her touch. No answer, but she knew he could sense her, just as the mansion could.

The mansion at night made her want to curl up in front of a fire, preferably in the arms of her loved one. The candles in their newly restored candleholders cast warm, golden light on the richly colored walls and paintings, and she tried to ignore the burst of heat in her chest as she passed the painting Le Comte had gotten for her. The lovers within the frame became especially apparent in the romantic light, hands and lips on naked flesh.

She continued to Le Comte’s bedroom, taking a deep breath as she lifted a fist to knock. Still no answer, and her brow furrowed, but just as she was about to grasp the knob she heard something shatter from inside the room.

“Comte?” A pained moan and her heart jumped into her throat. “I’m sorry, but I’m coming in!”

The glass shards lying across the floor were the least of her worries as she barged in, her attention falling on the man bent on the rug. A sense of deja vu settled over her, but before she’d taken even a few steps towards him one of his hands shot up, stopping her in place.

“Why’d you come?” he grunted, his voice choked and dry. He didn’t give her any time to answer, continuing, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I came because I was worried,” she admitted softly, soothingly. “Comte, are you starving again?”

“No!” The harsh edge to his tone made her jump, but she held her ground, digging her nails into her palm as she took another couple of steps towards him. He turned on her from his place on the floor, baring long, sharp fangs in a snarl. “Don’t come any closer!”

Maybe she should have, but MC felt no fear as she knelt in front of him, warm palm meeting his cool cheek. He stared at her, eyes shining with astonishment and hunger, sadness and longing. “Why didn’t you tell me you were starving?” she questioned, giving him a heartbroken smile. “Why didn’t you ask me for help? Do you not trust me enough for this?”

Heartbeats passed as he stared at her, and for a second she wondered if he had heard her through his ravenous haze, if he was already too far gone in his bloodlust. Finally, his lips parted and he whispered, “It’s not that.” He closed his eyes, drooping into her touch. “It’s not that.”

Without a word, she reached up, undoing a couple of buttons on her blouse. His eyes still closed, Le Comte let her guide him to the crook of her neck, but as soon as the warmth of her skin pressed against his cheek, he jolted, tearing out of her hold and dragging himself back along the rug, away from her.

“You know nothing!” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You have no idea what I want to do to you!”

“Then tell me!” she pleaded, hands fisting in her skirt. “Let me help you!”

“I want to bite you!” he cried, anguished that she didn’t understand even as his eyes glinted with a feral light. “I want to sink my fangs into you and fuck you until all of you is mine! Until you’re filled with me!”

MC stared, frozen at his omission. Maybe she hadn’t known the extent of his hunger for her, what it fully entailed, but she would happily let him have everything he wanted of her depending on his answer to her next question.

“Is it just because you’re starving?” she asked quietly. “Could anyone satisfy you right now?”

His gaze locked with hers, weighing the question. He knew exactly what she was asking. “No,” he admitted, his voice hushed, and the tension in the room reached a climax. “Only you. I starve for your blood, your body, and yours alone.”

“Then I don’t care,” she laughed breathlessly. Her heart felt like it was ready to beat out of her chest, and she couldn’t restrain her relieved smile as she met his wide-eyed expression. “Bite me...fuck me...and I’ll still love you.”

A heartbeat later, she was lifted off the floor, weightless, and tossed onto the bed. She bounced on the mattress, sinking into the luscious pillows and blankets, before a solid weight settled over her. Grabbing her hands, Le Comte pinned them above her head, hot tongue leaving a wet trail against her neck. His hips settled between her legs, pinning her to the mattress as he teased the sensitive spot on the side of her throat with the tips of his fangs.

“Oh…” She writhed under him, skirt slipping up her thighs as she wrapped a leg around his waist. Her body still remembered how it felt to be bitten by him, the overwhelming pleasure, the heat. “Please…!”

“Abel,” he whispered in her ear, making her still for a moment. “I want you calling me by my real name as I claim you.” His fangs slipped so suddenly into her neck, she barely registered the pain before pleasure claimed her unprepared body, nerve endings set alight with sudden arousal. Her vision blurred and she might’ve screamed, but she didn’t know, too focused on the way his body was pressing into her suddenly oversensitive one as her blood flowed into his mouth. It was more powerful this time, whether made so by the sudden confession between them or his increased need for her, she didn’t know and didn’t care. All she could think of was the mournful emptiness in her core and the rush of release that ruined her panties as he continued to drink from her.

When MC came to, she was naked, bare to him in the firelight. Her heart was pounding and her inner thighs were wet, slick with her cum. Le Comte...Abel...wasn’t on top of her anymore, his hands on her calves holding her legs apart as he knelt by her feet. She gasped silently, eyes widening, when she realized he was equally bare, every inch of him more gorgeous than she could have ever imagined as the firelight danced across his skin.

“So beautiful,” he purred, kissing up the inside of her leg from her ankle to her thigh. “You were sent here just for me, weren’t you? Sent to free me, all for me to love.” She couldn’t answer, squeezing her eyes shut and digging her fingers into the sheets as he neared the apex of her thighs. “Mmm, you smell positively delectable, mon amour.”

She yelped, fingers flying to his hair as his fangs burrowed into the soft skin of her thigh. It was more painful in a spot so vulnerable, but the pleasure after the pain was more intense too, making her writhe in his grip as another wave of release soaked her thighs. She mewled and panted as he took greedy gulps from her, laving his tongue lovingly across the bloodied skin when he’d had his fill. Her body shuddered with the aftershocks of a second orgasm, and she whimpered, too sensitive to his touch. Such rapture shouldn’t have been humanly possible, wasn’t humanly possible.

“You’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” Abel moaned, eyes half-lidded as he peered up at her from between her legs. His hands ran up and down her legs, bending them at the knees as he crawled closer, hot breath fanning against her wet pussy. He took her in so greedily, so hungrily, she had to resist the urge to close her legs around him, to hide away from the intensity of his gaze. Never had anyone looked at her like that before, starving for her.

MC gasped his name breathlessly when his tongue licked a stripe along her slit, and he groaned at the taste of her arousal. “Absolutely soaked,” he purred, licking his lips. “I don’t believe I even need to prepare you for me.”

She trembled as he licked her again, yelping and bucking her hips into his face when his mouth wrapped around her clit. His grip on her hips held her still as his tongue delved inside of her, chin shining with her wetness as he slurped and moaned. Though she had never admitted it, this was what she had wanted for so long, her love reciprocated to the utmost. And as much as she wanted him to continue, she was already oversensitive from the intensity of her previous two climaxes. She wouldn’t be able to take much more without it becoming painful soon and she wanted him inside of her, filling and stretching and claiming her.

“A-Abel,” she managed to say, her vision blurred with pleasured tears. “T-Too much. Too sensitive.”

That’s what she said, but she still nearly cried when his tongue left her, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut to keep herself from shoving his head back between her legs. His warmth fell over her as he moved on top of her, soft lips kissing the corners of her eyes and trailing over her cheeks. She mewled when his hardened cock brushed her throbbing core, unintentionally teasing her. Even just brushing against her, she could tell he was huge, bigger than any human male could ever be.

“Are you okay?” he murmured softly, and she nodded.

Opening her eyes, MC cupped his cheek, leaning up to kiss him with as much love and need as she could muster. “Please,” she whispered against his lips, “Make me yours?”

Even though she’d already confessed so much to him tonight, Abel still looked at her with such amazement in his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe she was actually real and here with him. Placing his hand over hers, he closed his eyes, smiling into her palm. “I don’t deserve to...but it would be my honor.” He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to; the weight of mutual love and adoration that filled the space between them and his overjoyed smile against her skin said enough.

Without wasting another moment, he reached between them and gently guided himself into her, hazy, lust-focused golden eyes peering into hers as a shudder wracked their joined forms. Her nails dug into his back, core squeezing around the pulsing length burrowing inside of her.

“Relax, mon amour,” he whispered, nuzzling the soft spot below her ear. Taking a few deep, shuddering breaths, she tried to relax the clenching in her lower stomach, gradually adjusting to the stretch.

“Please,” she whined, planting kisses across his chin and jaw. “Move.”

The world she knew fell away, nonexistent. All there was was him and her and this place, wrapped up with velvet and warm firelight as her vampire made love to her.

His thrusts into her were slow and forceful, the pleasure it brought rolling over her in spine-tingling waves. Her back arched, head thrown back to expose her neck to his hungry lips, as he held her against him.

“Perfect,” he moaned against her skin, his breath raising goosebumps on her flesh. “Absolutely perfect.”

Her toes curled as he lifted her hips, changing the angle and hitting spots deep inside of her that made her see stars. Her arms laced around him, vice-like as she held onto him desperately. Each powerful stroke into her teased the edge of her climax, igniting her nerves, and the feeling of his mouth closing around the nipple of one bouncing breast made her scream.

She writhed, helplessly grinding her hips to meet his thrusts as he sucked the hardened bud, teasing it with his fangs. His other hand pinched and rolled its twin, his thrusts turning harder as he fucked her into the mattress. He let go of her breast with a wet pop, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake as he moved up her chest, nipping at her collarbone for good measure.

“Does it feel good?” he purred in her ear, honeyed voice dripping with sin. “Do you like the way it feels, my fangs in your throat and my cock in your cunt?”

“Yes!” she cried, desperate. She wanted so badly to cum again, to reach her climax for the third time tonight. It was already so, so close. “Please - anhg! - Don’t stop!”

He chuckled, warm breath fanning against her skin. “I don’t intend to.” His cock slammed into the sensitive spot inside of her, his hand reaching between her legs to find her clit. “Not until your body knows me and me alone.”

She could feel the coil deep in her stomach starting to tighten, signaling her impending climax. “Haa...A-Abel! I’m - I’m close! Ah...more! Feels...ha...so good! I need more!”

Something changed in him at her words, whatever control he had recovered after drinking her blood vanishing. Grunting, he grabbed the backs of her knees and pushed them against her chest. “Cum around my cock,” he coaxed, face alight with feral desire. The expression was unfamiliar on his gentlemanly face, but it still shot a pulse of heat straight to her core, making her squeeze around him. “Make me cum inside of you.”

MC screamed, coating him in her release as he rammed into her, the new position sending her over the edge and into her climax. She sobbed, fluttering around his piercing cock as the blunt head pummeled her cervix, the slight pain making her orgasm all the more ravaging.

He groaned, thrusts turning sloppy as her core milked him, and with another few deep thrusts inside of her, he came, growling into her neck as he pulsed. She trembled at the feeling of his cum filling her, hot and thick and pooling somewhere deep inside of her as her eyes closed and her body turned weightless.

She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until her eyes fluttered open, finding herself tucked under the covers and cuddled against a warm, bare chest.

“You’re awake,” Le Comte’s voice rumbled against her cheek, and she tilted her head to peer up at him as his fingers carded soothingly through her hair. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She blushed, noting the soreness and lingering warmth between her thighs. “It was just...intense.” The corner of his lips twitched in the beginnings of a smirk, and she kept talking before he could tease her. “Do you not sleep?” she said softly, reaching to tuck her arms around him in turn.

“I do,” he chuckled with a raised brow, relaxing into her embrace.

“Then why don’t you?”

“...I’m almost afraid to sleep,” he admitted wryly. “Maybe this...meeting you...has all been a dream and I’m still stuck in that bottle.”

Her grip on him tightened, snuggling him closer. She hadn’t known he’d felt this way, scarred by his time trapped and alone, but of course he would. He felt and processed experiences just as she did. Leaning up, she kissed him softly, feeling his arms pull her closer. “I’m real,” she murmured, holding his gaze, those brilliant golden eyes she had originally fallen so deeply in love with. “This is real, and I love you. I still don’t know how I was able to find this place, but I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“What did I do for God to send you to me?” His breathing stuttered and he said on a shaky exhale, “I’ve done things, things that pervert the rules of nature, things that I never want to tell you. How can I possibly deserve you?”

“Hmm, do you love me?” She smiled, her heart feeling full enough to burst from her chest.

“Madly,” he answered, without missing a beat.

“Then we’ll work our way up from there. Just know that I can’t remember ever being happier than I have been here with you these past months.” Leaning up for a last kiss, she felt him smile against her lips. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

There was still much to discuss, a whole dynamic to work out between them, but it could wait until morning. For now, they could sleep in each other’s arms, blissfully in love and ready to face the challenges that would come with each tomorrow.

They had all the time in the world, after all.

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nuttytani · 4 years ago

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snowy wonderland

@itsannaslife13 said: comte with sick prompt 11? please if they’re still open thank you!

a/n: ahhhhh i’m so sorry! this took such a long time cuz of my lazy ass- lol. I actually rewrote this 3 times...yes you read it right- 3 times... until i finally changed the idea from a sick fic to winter- ish/christmas story- i’m sorry about that TvT. i don’t even know if the main dialogue fits the story cuz.... i actually forgot to add it while i was writing it the last time xDDD gyuihygt7uihjg edit: beta read by my big sis :”D�� @mllorei / @lorei-writes

11. “Thank you for staying with me.” Comte

fandom: ikemen vampire

pairing: comte x gn!reader

warnings: none

Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, awakening you from your deep slumber. A gasp left your cold lips as white clouded your eyes- bringing you back to your senses. Hurriedly, you jumped into your slippers and pulled on a thick coat. Eager hands rubbed off the fog that covered the window- you hissed slightly at the freeze that touched your skin. For a moment you forgot that it was that time of the year, mentally smacking yourself- it was winter for god's sake!

Eyes opened wide, you were mesmerized.

A thick sheet of snow covered everything- the mansion’s garden was now changed into a snowy wonderland. Not to mention the bustling of people and carriages along the cobblestone road. Truly, it was a majestic view- and you wanted to share this moment with a certain someone. A few months back, you two finally confessed to each other and finally got together; which is why you desperately wanted to view the first snow of the year with him. Without another thought; you fumbled out of your room, tripping along the doorway as you made a mad dash to his room.

Your feet stopped automatically when a particular door came in sight, the dainty ornaments surrounding you trembled a bit. Just yesterday, both you and Sebastian had taken time to deck the whole mansion with Christmas decorations- although the two of you were reeling with muscle aches by the end of the day, the hard work had paid off as the hallways looked absolutely smashing!

With jittery hands, you knocked at the hard mahogany- waiting patiently while you stroked the delicate wreath which was hung. You were caught off guard when twinkling amber eyes peeked through the gap and graced you with a smile. You eyed his toused attire and- oh? Mismatched pair of socks. It was hard to suppress the amused snicker that wanted out of your mouth (which still came out as a wheeze).

“Good morning Mr. Bedhead.” You shot Comte a lopsided grin.

“Morning- though I’m not the only one with…. unkempt hair,” Comte chuckled at you.

He brought his hands to your head and combed through the unruly strands. Your insides fluttered at the sudden touch, filling you with warmth as a pleased sigh slipped escaped you. Even though it hadn't been too long since both of you started dating, every touch and graze of Comte’s hands on your body always made you feel giddy like a teenager.

“What brings you here this early?” he asked, taking your hands into his.

“I wanted to show you something. Of course, I can't do that with you standing here though.” You wiggled eyebrows at him and added after a pause- “Oh and my apologies for what I’m about to do,” you said- with not an ounce of sorry on your face, instead- mischief glazing your eyes.

Before Comte could get in a word, you grabbed his wrist and dragged the man away- receiving many questioning and intrigued stares from the other residents as you passed by the dining area with a dumb struck Comte following after you. Well- you didn't blame them for their gawking mouths...it wasn’t a normal occurrence to see the mansion’s ‘father’ being dragged away. Not that you cared anyways.

“Why are you in such a hurry, love?” A singy songy voice spoke up from behind.

“Nothing Arthur- mind your own business,” you huffed with Comte still in tow

The writer laughed wolfishly at your retort, flopping the newspaper on the table; he eyed the two rushing figures with an impish look.

“Why won’t you just tell me?” Comte asked again, coming back from his initial shock.

“Nope- we’re almost there!”

“Dear… what in the world-” again, he got cut off, but now mesmerized by his new bright surroundings.

It was in fact, marvellous, the tiny cold snowflakes drizzled onto both of you; sending shivers down your spine, the feeling was almost therapeutic and you just knew Comte felt the same from the small grin plastered on his face. Instead of holding onto the man’s hand- you now gestured at the air with a swing of your arms.

“This is what I wanted to show! Isn’t it beautiful?” whispering, you blew hot air to your shivering palms.

You failed to notice how Comte turned to look at you with soft- loving eyes. He held your hands and brought them to his chapped lips. Peppering ticklish kisses along your knuckles- your heart almost stopped beating that instant, a pink blush crept up from your cheeks as your mouth went dry. Flustered, you looked anywhere but at Comte. He appeared so ethereal in that moment- shiny hazel eyes looked through long lashes- oh those gorgeous lashes and his uncombed hair which was adorned with specks of white

You let out an awkward cough to hide your embarrassment “So…. w-what do you think?” stammering, you cleared your throat.

“It's wonderful my love, but its beauty is nothing compared to yours,” the man replied slyly, his eyes crinkling in delight- finding your fumbling cute.

You gave him a light hearted smack on the chest at that, laughing while scrunching your nose. Wiggling your arms around his waist as you let out a shaky breath, you felt his own pair pulling you slightly closer. Both of you stood there, looking at each other in comforting peace- as if bewitched by the other’s presence.

Comte’s left hand trailed up from your waist, between the shoulder blades until it rested snugly right below your head. He inched his face closer until your noses touched.

“May I?” he asked for permission, eyes flitting from your lips to your shiny eyes.

Instead of answering, you wrapped your hands around his shoulders- pecking his mouth. Sighing at the contact, Comte ran his tongue along your bottom lip before biting it. You whimpered, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Smell of butter and cologne filled your senses immediately- it was almost too much to bear once your knees started to feel weak. Your heart thrummed rapidly against your chest, making it harder to breathe. Somewhere along the way- your hands shifted to Comte’s short locks, tugging at it to get leverage. His own hands wandered around your waist and back like they had a mind of their own. The silent garden was now filled with both of your soft moans and gasps- produced by each and every jerk of movement.

You then slowly parted, taking shallow yet hurried breaths. Lips now shaking and hands trembling from excitement, the two of you simply stayed that way til calming down.

“It’s getting colder, shall we go inside?” Comte gave a last peck.

You only nodded in response, he slipped his fingers into your hands as you swung them back and forth,

“Thank you my love.”

“For what?”

“For staying with me,” he said before going back into the mansion- leaving two pairs of footprints on the thick crunchy snow.

a/n: if you enjoyed reading this, please dont forget to leave a like and/or reblog. feedback is always appreciated. + if you’d like to join my taglist, click here

#tani writes!!#Ikemen Vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikemen vampire comte #comte x reader #comte x mc #ikevamp comte fanfic #ikevamp le comte

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rimalupin · 4 years ago

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Arthur x MC: “Never Have I Ever...”

(A/N: Fluff piece w/ a hint of angst and the *tiniest* bit of suggestive content. I wanted to show Arthur some more ~love~ by writing him w/ a bestie who’s comfortable with platonic touching/cuddling ((but also this is once again a lowkey self-indulgent piece bc i miss hugging my friends hnggggg T_T)). I’m also a sucker for the friends-to-lovers trope, so there’s that, hehe~. c: )

~~~~~

“Never have I ever… Broken a bone.”

“Well, I didn't expect that from you.” Arthur raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Haven’t you at least sprained something?”

“That's not the same as breaking something,” I point out as I massage my wrist. A habit I’ve developed ever since I first sprained it.

“I’m well aware.” His eyes dart to my wrist and he reaches out to grab my hand. Of course he’d know I’d sprained my wrist before just by seeing me touch it. Normally, Arthur’s super-observational skills would catch me off-guard. They still do, but I think they’re growing on me now. I guess that’s how you know we’ve spent A LOT of time together.

He lifts up my hand and gently moves it about. I’m assuming he’s making sure that my wrist is still working. “I’m glad you haven’t broken it.”

I shrug. “I don’t do anything too weird with my hands, so I’m not really worried about that.”

“Oh? Define what you consider a ‘weird’ activity for your hands.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and I lightly punch his shoulder with my free hand. “OH! MAN DOWN!” He lets go of my hand and clutches his arm before falling onto his bed.

I giggle and follow his lead so that I’m lying beside him. “Alright, stop stalling: it’s your turn.”

He turns to lay on his side and places a finger on my lips. “Have patience, my dear assistant! I’m still thinking.”

I gently pry his finger away. “Arthur, ‘Never Have I Ever’ is just a silly get-to-know-you game. It isn’t something you’re supposed to mull over for hours like… chess.”

“Usually, players aren’t supposed to think for THAT long in chess. But you’d know that, Miss ‘Almost-National-Chess-Champion’.”

I roll my eyes and sigh. I never should’ve let that fact slip out. I hadn’t played chess since middle school, so I’m dreading the day that Arthur asks me to play a game with him. My rusty skills wouldn’t be enough to beat him at even one game...

I quickly attempt to re-direct him to ‘Never Have I Ever.’ “Ohhh, just play the game already!” I poke at his sides, trying to see if any ticklish spots exist there. I’ve been trying to look for them for a while, but I still haven't quite found them yet.

“Alright, alright.” He chuckles and grabs my hands. Our fingers interlock almost automatically.

It’s not the first time we’ve held hands like this - it’s become kind of our “thing” ever since we got close. Arthur’s the first friend I managed to make at the mansion, not to mention my first best friend who happens to be a vampire. Our friendship is special, and this is one of the many special things that resulted in it.

“Never have I ever…” He gives my hands a light squeeze, and I promptly return the gesture. “Been bitten by a vampire.”

I furrow my brow. “Pff, no way. I don’t believe you.”

“What? Why not?”

“Isn’t that how humans get ‘turned’? Like some powerful vampire bites a mortal and suddenly they become a vamp?”

“My dear, that is but a myth. The contract we have with le Comte didn’t require him to just bite us to give us a taste of eternal life.” Arthur wraps an arm around my waist, and I squeal with surprise when he pulls me close to him, his body flush against mine. His voice is low and he gazes at me intensely. “It required something much more dangerous.” I have to tell myself not to blush as I feel his breath on my face.

On one hand, I can see why so many ladies fall for Arthur’s advances: he's handsome, charming, and - dare I say - very sexy when he chooses to be. If they were in my position now, I'd imagine that they’d throw themselves into Arthur’s arms and start making out with him before they… well, you know…

On the other hand, it’s Arthur. Yes, he’s an awful flirt, but he’s also extremely intelligent, caring, and goofy. I love these sides of him, and I’m glad that he’s been showing me more of them lately.

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t tell me that le Comte is secretly pimping you guys out.”

“My word, get your mind out of the gutter!” he chides.

“It’s your fault for putting that thought into my head! But no shame if it’s true,” I tease. We laugh aloud, our voices echoing through the room.

Once we catch our breaths, Arthur speaks again. “_____ seriously, you’ve been here for almost a month now. Have you really not been bitten yet?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“How interesting…” He’s quiet for a moment. “Nobody here has bitten you?”

Besides some really close calls (courtesy of Arthur, though it never went further than his mouth hovering near my neck - a move he used on me when I first arrived at the mansion), none of the residents had actually done that to me. “Arthur, I’m pretty sure I’d know if someone bit me.” “I’m just asking! But…” He looks at me with a curious gaze. “Have you ever wondered what it feels like?”

I shrug. “I mean, I guess.” I’m living with a bunch of vampires - of course I’m a little curious.

But I’m also scared. Does it hurt? How much blood will I lose? Will I pass out?

As if reading my thoughts, Arthur gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to worry about that here. We’ve got plenty of Blanc and Rouge stocked up, so none of the residents would just sweep you up and make you their meal.”

I look at him, my expression deadpan. “Gee, thanks. Glad to know I won’t be eaten up during my stay.”

“I’m serious! But if you want to know…” His fingers reach up to tuck some stray hairs behind my ear. “You can use me.”

I blink at him, confused. “Use you..?”

He nods, completely serious. “I can bite you. And there’s no need to worry: I’ve done this plenty of times before, so I won't go too wild on you. Not that I've gone completely wild on anyone else!" He quickly adds.

I widen my eyes as I recall what Sebastian had told me when I first met Arthur: “Arthur feeding off of others is a sort of - How do I put this? - ‘vampiric foreplay,’ I suppose.” Does that mean that if he bites me, we’ll..?

No, that can’t be true. Surely Sebastian was over-exaggerating. I’ve heard that people can be into that kind of stuff, so how could it be any different with a vampire?

But I don't want to become just another one-night-stand for Arthur. He's my best friend - I wouldn't want to ruin what we already have...

Again, Arthur reads my thoughts. “We don’t have to do anything beyond that if you don’t want to. But I should warn you that the feeling is rather… intense.”

I narrow my eyes at his explanation, my skepticism at an all-time high. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, perhaps I can convince you with an alternative explanation. A demonstration perhaps?” He’s speaking with his “Flirty Arthur” voice, but his eyes… There’s a look in them that I haven’t seen before. It’s almost as if he’s been wanting to do this…

I reach out to touch his cheek, curious about the longing look in his eyes. He leans into my touch, and we silently gaze at each other for a while.

I finally manage to answer him. “Fine. Just this once.” My voice comes out quiet and a little shaky. Am I nervous about this..? “But if it hurts like hell and if you draw too much blood out of me, you’d better stop.”

Arthur’s gaze softens and he gives me a kind smile. “Alright. Just tell me and I will stop. I promise.” After I nod again, he wraps his arms around me and rolls us over so that he’s on top of me. I look up at him, still wondering about that look in his eyes.

He leans closer to me, and I hold my breath as his forehead touches mine. “Just relax,” he whispers. "You trust me, right?" Something wavers in his gaze. Is he as nervous about this as I am..?

I give him a gentle smile, hoping to reassure him. "Of course I do."

He nods and takes a breath before speaking again. “The pain only lasts for a moment.” He moves closer to my neck, gently pushing my hair aside before hovering his lips over my pulse. “But I promise that you’ll feel much better right after.”

Before I could ask what he meant, Arthur’s fangs pierce into my skin, and my eyes widen as I yelp aloud. “AH!”

The pain is sharp and intense, and I feel as if my neck is on fire. My eyes begin to fill with tears as the wave of pain spreads throughout my body.

But a short while later, the pain starts to fade until it feels... nice..?

An involuntary moan spills out of my mouth, but I’m too overwhelmed by the feeling to quiet myself. What is this feeling anyway..?

Pleasure? No… More like ecstasy radiating throughout my entire being.

The spot on my neck continues to throb, becoming more intense as it travels down to the rest of my body, setting everything on fire.

Arthur begins to suck on my neck, and I wrap my arms around him, almost instinctively. “Mmm…”

It feels so good…

My fingers tangle through his hair and he moans onto my neck.

I want more…

I pull him closer to me, and he presses his chest against mine.

I want him...

This feeling. It wasn't just lust. It was…

I have to tell him…

He lifts his head and gazes at me.

I need him...

My eyes dart down to his lips, now lightly stained red from my blood.

Arthur...

He's inching closer to me, his lips hovering over mine. So close, nearly touching.

Our gazes lock onto each other, and he whispers to me. "Do you want this, _____?"

I stare into his dark blue eyes. Those beautiful eyes filled with longing… need… and something else…

The right thing to do is to say "no." Even if I do like him, I still have to return to my own time sooner or later. I didn't want either of us to get hurt by that inevitable future. But now that I'm facing him like this, I'm not sure if I can hide my feelings any longer…

So I nod. "Yes." There's no point in running now. I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck. "I want this. I want you, Arthur."

His eyes widen with surprise. He whispers my name as he lifts a hand to my cheek, and I lean into his touch. We draw closer to each other, closing the distance between us until…

We're kissing. Arthur and I are kissing. It's a gentle, slow kiss so achingly sweet that I nearly cry when our lips first touch. The taste of his lips sends a thrill through me that I have never felt before.

Soon enough, the kiss grows more passionate, sending even more flames throughout my body. My lips part slightly as I moan, and his tongue easily slips into my mouth. I cling onto him, and he holds me tight as our kiss deepens.

And then we break apart, our foreheads touching as we catch our breaths. As if waking from a dream, I blink at him, dazed. "Did we just..?" I didn't just imagine that, right?

He's as shocked as I am. "I… I suppose we did…" He looks into my eyes, searching for something. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you..?"

His concern for me is so sweet that I nearly kiss him again. "No," I shake my head. "Well, it did hurt a little bit. But you were right: the pain didn't last very long." I blush, still feeling the flames inside me that have yet to be quelled.

He lets out a sigh of relief. "Good." His head moves back to my neck, and he peppers the spot he bit with light kisses.

"Ngh… Arthur, what's this for..?" I ask, even though I don't want him to stop.

He lifts his head and looks up at me with a sheepish smile. "To apologize for hurting you."

"Arthur, it's alright, really."

"I still feel bad though. So I hope you'll accept my apology."

Honestly, how much sweeter can this man be? "Of course I do."

Another lovely smile. "Thank you, _____."

I return his thanks with another kiss, and I feel his lips curve into a smile as he kisses me back.

I really do love him…

The kiss is short and sweet. After we break apart, he rests his forehead against mine. “Can I kiss you again..?” he asks in a soft voice.

I raise an eyebrow and move away a little to tease him. “What for?”

He pouts as he moves closer to me. “To ask you to stay.” My eyes widen with surprise at his answer. He wants me to stay..? “I don’t want you to leave...” His hands move up to cup my cheeks, and my heart aches at his gentle touch.

“Arthur, I have to go back someday…” I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry at the thought of leaving him.

“I know…” His thumbs gently caress my cheeks as if he’s wiping away the tears I refuse to let fall. “But until then, can we stay like this? Together, I mean?”

I open my eyes to look at him again. “Together..?”

He nods. “I want to be with you, _____. Even if it’s for this short blissful while, I want to be with you.”

His honest confession is too much for my heart to handle. “Yes,” I say as the tears rush down my face. “Yes, of course. I want to be with you too, Arthur.” I wrap my arms around him and hug him close to me. “I don’t want to leave you…”

He holds me close. “You don’t..?”

“Of course not. You’re my best friend and… I love you too much to leave you." I bury my face onto his chest, his scent washing over me.

“We’ll figure something out, my love. But for now…” His index finger gently lifts my chin up, and his lips meet mine once again. Our kiss is slow, and we take our time tasting each other, exploring each other, loving each other.

We take our time to make this short eternity last because we don’t know when it will end.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp arthur conan doyle #ikevamp le comte #ikevamp comte #ikevamp sebastian #arthur x mc #ikevamp fanfic #fanfic by me #rima writes #holy cow this was 5 pages long on my google docs asdfghjkl #also this was supposed to be a silly fic and then it turned kinda serious/sad towards the end ASDFGHJKL #i just wanna show arthur some more love y'all bc i actually appreciate him so much #<3

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