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saintlucretia · 5 months ago

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Whiskey & Blood

Pairings: Austin Sommers x Female!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol. Blood feeding. Blood kink. Blood in general.

Summary: Y/N is a writer and moved to Provincetown for inspiration. She definitely has chosen the right place.

Good old Provincetown. Refuge for creative souls. A gray canvas for crime and dissolute living. My agent advised me to change the scenery and Provincetown seemed a perfect place. Peaceful town by the sea. Cozy houses. Beautiful nature. Bloodsuckers.

I was sitting at “The Muse”, sipping wine. The bar was almost empty even though it was already 8 pm. The bartender was leaning against the counter, wiping glasses with a dirty napkin while a few people sipped overpriced cocktails a few feet away. They chattered on and on about something. I tuned them out, taking another sip of my wine as the door opened and a man walked in.

My eyes flicked up to him automatically, taking in his tall stature. He scanned the room and fixed his eyes on me. For about 30 seconds we were just staring at each other. He looked very familiar. Suddenly he started walking toward me. The stranger seemed to glide across the floor, his movements so fluid and confident that it made me think of a lion stalking its prey.

He took a seat on the stool next to mine. Up close, he was even more handsome than I had initially thought, pale, with sharp, angular features and an intense gaze that seemed to burn into me.

“I have never seen you before. Just moved here?” he asked, turning to me.

“Yeah,” I mumbled. My voice was a little hoarse. It was probably from the wine.

He ordered a whiskey from the bartender. I tried to keep my eyes on the rest of the bar, but they kept wandering back to the man next to me. He was sitting really close and I could almost feel the heat radiating off his body. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart beat faster. He seemed oddly magnificent.

“Soo…How’s your writing, hm?” he asked smiling.

I frowned. “How you-”

“You have that look about you.” He looked me up and down.

I raised an eyebrow skeptically. “And what would that be?” I asked, taking another sip of wine.

He chuckled. “Let’s just call it the ‘writer’s scowl’. I’d know it anywhere.”

I laughed softly. “Is that a polite way of saying I look tired and miserable all the time?”

“You have an incredible talent for twisting other people's words.” He laughed.

“So you could tell I was a writer just by looking at me?” I asked.

“Impressed?” He was annoyingly attractive. “Also, I heard that a woman has rented a house here for three months. Who the hell else moves out from the capital to God's forgotten city?”

I tried to look nonchalant, but I was secretly impressed. Apparently, he’d done his homework.

“Well, look at you. You’re basically Sherlock Holmes,” I said dryly, taking another sip of wine.

“Not as old though. And far more handsome,” he answered smoothly.

He leaned toward me, resting his elbows on the countertop. “You never told me your name by the way,” he said casually.

Well, meeting new people never hurts, especially in small towns.

“It’s Y/N,” I said carelessly.

“Y/N. I don’t think I’ve heard anyone going by that name in a long time. It’s pretty.”

“And mind telling yours, suspicious stranger?” I smirked.

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended.

“I’d rather use the word mysterious.” He stuck out his hand toward me. “I’m Austin. Austin Sommers.”

I shook his hand, his fingers wrapping around mine. His palms were cold, but the contact was firm.

“Sommers? You are a playwright, aren’t you? I’ve read your last scenario.”

His eyes widened in mock surprise.

“Goodness gracious. You’ve read my work?” he said, feigning shock.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, stop pretending to be all humbled. I know you’re a cocky bastard.”

His laughter was surprisingly warm. A small shiver ran through me, but I tried to ignore it.

“I’m wounded, didn’t realize you thought so lowly of me already. I thought you liked me, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your sweetheart,” I said slightly irritably, ignoring the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

He grinned. “Oh yes, you are.” He picked up my hand lazily and brought it to his lips, his gaze fixed on mine. “At least tonight you are,” he murmured against my knuckles.

Damn him. Why did he have to be so infuriatingly seductive?

“You’re really quite arrogant,” I muttered. “Too used to being the center of attention?”

His smirk widened. “And what’s wrong with that? I prefer being the star rather than being ignored.” His thumb started tracing a slow, torturous circle in the palm of my hand and I tried to contain the shiver that went through me. “I hope you don’t have a boyfriend or something?”

I bristled slightly at his tone, but shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant.

“It's none of your business.”

“Well, darling. If you were my girl, I wouldn’t let you talk to handsome strangers in bars.” He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help being amused. The man was completely insufferable.

“And what makes you think I would be your girl?” I asked dryly.

He chuckled again, his eyes glinting with undisguised interest.

“So you can admit I’m a handsome stranger?”

I groaned in annoyance. He was impossible.

“You’re also aggravating as hell.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment?”

I shook my head, trying to look unimpressed, but I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I was definitely having fun despite the fact that I was annoyed that he thought he could easily sleep with me.

“You are incredibly obnoxious. Have I told you that?”

He chuckled. I was getting the feeling that I could have called him every bad name in the universe, and he’d still be completely unfazed.

“You’ve called me many things tonight. Obnoxious, arrogant... I think it’s safe to say you think I’m charming.”

“You really have no shame, do you?”

“None,” he agreed with a grin, leaning closer until I could almost feel his breath on my skin. “So no boyfriend, sweetheart?” he asked again. The use of the pet name made me feel strangely irritated and turned on at the same time.

“What, your deduction won’t help you this time?” I said showing one's teeth.

“No boyfriend then..” His expression was smug and I wanted to slap him. And kiss him.

He leaned even closer and I could feel his thigh touching mine.

“If you mind my company, just say that. I don’t want to look like a creep,” he murmured, his voice all mock concern.

“Oh no, you’re already a creep,” I said dryly.

He chuckled and my eyes involuntarily drifted to his mouth. I could almost feel it on mine. I mentally cursed myself for such thoughts.

He smirked, noticing that I’d been staring at his mouth.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “Keep looking at me like that and I might think you want me.”

I rolled my eyes and finished my glass.

He watched me sipping my wine with a glint in his eyes.

“Look, sweetheart, I don’t try to get you into my bed, at least… yet. But! I admit I like you and I offer you friendship. It’s great to have a fellow writer around here.”

“Ah, friendship. Sounds very plausible. I see your very friendly gaze over my body.” I raised an eyebrow skeptically and he chuckled, not seeming that surprised that I wasn’t buying his bullshit.

“You know, friendship doesn’t necessarily exclude other things on the menu.” He leaned back slightly, resting his elbows on the countertop and looking me up and down with a lazy smile. “But enough of that, I really want you to be my good companion. Let’s chat like good warriors of words, shall we? ”

He chuckled again, a sound that I was getting quite familiar with by now.

“So, why did you come here to Provincetown, all by your lonesome? Writer’s block, hm?” he asked, resting his chin in his hand and studying my face intently.

I looked away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his attention flustered me. I huffed out a small laugh. He saw right through me.

“How do you know I’m a writer and not a serial killer renting a house for three months?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He chuckled at my attempt at sarcasm.

“Well, you look too fragile for a serial killer,” he said jokingly.

“Fragile, am I?” I raised an eyebrow in slight annoyance.

He smirked and looked me up and down. “Mhm. You don't have the strength to harm anyone.”

I scoffed offended. “Let's see what you say when I lock you in my basement.”

He let out a loud, genuine laugh.

“Ah sweet, little doll, I don’t think I’d mind ending up in your basement.” The seductive undertone of his words made me shiver.

I sighed.

“Is it that bad?” he asked.

“What?”

“Your writing block. Because I have something that will certainly cure it.”

I rolled my eyes, but I was curious. He had my attention.

“If you are going to offer sex I will slap you.”

He chuckled, not looking offended in the slightest. In fact, he looked amused.

“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t dare, I don't take advantage of my friends' weaknesses.” He leaned closer to me again, his mouth inches from my ear. “I have a different kind of therapy in mind.” He put out a clear plastic bag from his pocket, there were black pills in it.

I stared at the pills for a moment, then back at him. “What the hell are those?”

“These are very powerful pills. Guaranteed to boost your brain power. Get those creative juices flowing.”

I raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of intrigue and suspicion.

“I thought you were better than drugging girls in bars,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

“You see, doll, they’re not like other pills your pretty little mind is thinking of,” he said with a smirk. “They don’t numb your mind or make you feel all high. They enhance it. Imagine being able to access your creative side like you’ve never done before.” He leaned even closer. “Imagination and inspiration right there. No more writer’s block. Nothing holding you back anymore.”

“And how much for your “magic pills”? I asked skeptically.

He chuckled again. His voice was seductively hoarse.

“Free of charge,” he said softly. “Consider it a gift for a gorgeous, talented writer like yourself.”

“I don’t do drugs.”

“These are no drugs, sweetheart. Think of them as supplements,” he said gently.

He was still incredibly close, looking me directly in the eye. His presence was overwhelming ”I promise they won’t get you addicted,” he murmured.

“That’s what a drug dealer would say.” I rolled my eyes.

“But I’m a good guy,” he said with playful annoyance, raising his hands in defense.

He leaned to my ear once again and our faces were impossibly close, to the point where I could feel his breath on my skin.

“I promise you, these pills will make you feel as if a whole new world will open up to you. Your imagination will be on fire. You’ll write like never before. I take them myself. And for your information, my latest script allowed me to buy a villa in Sicily.” He winked.

I sighed. I had only a week to send my agent a new chapter and I haven't written a word. God damn me, we live only once.

“C’mon doll, don’t you want to finally get that block in your brain out of the way?”

Was it suspicious of him to give me a pill for free? Yes. Was it a stupid thing to take a pill? Yes. Have I taken it anyway? Yes.

He smiled, seeing that he finally convinced me.

“There you go,” he murmured, pulling out the packet of pills from his pocket again.

He opened up the packet and took out one pill, holding it between his fingers in front of me.

“Just one little pill,” he said, his voice low. “And you’ll see what I’m talking about. You’ll be able to let go of everything holding you back, every wall in your mind. And you’ll write like you’ve never written before.”

I took a pill and swallowed it with his whiskey. He was a good writer himself after all. It couldn’t be that bad, could it?

He watched as I swallowed the pill and a look of satisfaction crossed his face.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Now, just relax. It’s going to take about 20 minutes before it starts working. It won’t be long before you start feeling the effects. So you better go and write something.” He put out a black ink pen from his pocket and wrote something on a bar napkin.

“When you finish I expect you at my mansion. You can come any time, just ring the bell.” He said, giving me the napkin. “Here’s my address.”

I read the street’s name. “You live in that huge house??” I asked him, surprised. I mean, yeah, I supposed that he might be wealthy, but that mansion probably costs a few millions.

“Yeah, it cost me a fortune, but that’s the only place where I can write peacefully.” He said, casually, standing up from his seat. “So, now you better hurry to your house and devote yourself entirely to work.”

“Should I learn about any side effects?” I asked a bit nervously.

He took a few seconds to answer. “Nothing to worry about. Just… It would be better if you would go straight to me after you are done.”

“Okay.”

He smiled charmingly and kissed me on the cheek quickly. “Good luck, talented soul.”

I sat there for a moment, watching him leave. I took my purse to pay it off but noticed that Austin left money on the bar counter. Gentleman.

I started feeling something. Something strange. It was disturbing like something was scratching my brain. I quickened my steps. The effects of the pill were slowly taking hold as I headed home. I felt an intense sense of focus and creativity, with thoughts rushing through my mind faster than normal. However, amidst this new burst of inspiration, I couldn’t shake off a strange and growing sense of unease.

Gladly, my house was right around the corner. As I reach the door, I fumble with keys, my fingers trembling from the strange sensations coursing through my body.

Eventually, I unlock the door and rush inside, collapsing onto my chair at the desk. The room is messy, filled with dozens of papers, unfinished manuscripts, and abandoned ideas. But none of that matters now. Not when the inspiration is finally flowing again. The world comes alive again.

I opened my laptop and started writing. The words poured out of me as if I was possessed. The ideas that I couldn’t form in something particular now were arranged in order in my mind. I felt like a God. The world outside has faded away, leaving only me and my words.

I finished with Sunrise. Light awakened me, distracted me and I looked away from the screen for the first time in 8 hours. It was done. I finished the book. Four hundred pages in one sitting. All done.

I felt dizzy. I stood up from the desk, stretching my tired muscles. My hands were shaky. I was thirsty. I poured myself a glass of water and drank it in one gulp, though it hadn’t satisfied my body. My gaze returned to the laptop screen again and I giggled. I have just finished a book. A brilliant book. It felt insane.

Wandering eyes stopped at the napkin that was on a table. Austin. I grabbed a coat and ran out of the door, heading to my car. The drive to Austin’s mansion felt like a blur. My mind was still buzzing from the hours spent writing, my body was weak from exhaustion. The rush of inspiration was slowly being replaced by a creeping sense of animalistic hunger.

Finally, I reached his house, a towering mansion that loomed in front of me like a giant castle. I killed the engine, my hands still trembling slightly as I walked up to the door and knocked. No one answered. Everything was quiet. I rang the doorbell at least 10 times before he opened the door.

"Impatient, are we?" Austin smirked, standing against the door frame, casual and calm. A sharp contrast to my jittery, anxious state. "I'm assuming you're here because you finished?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded absentmindedly and pushed into the house, brushing against him. His smell. It was like I sensed it for the first time. I have never smelled anything like that before, it was driving me crazy. I froze, watching him with bleary eyes.

Austin chuckled at my abrupt behavior, closing the door after me. "How are you feeling? Describe your state with details," he asked. He watched me as I stood there, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“I am hungry. Dizzy. I have just written four hundred pages in one sitting. No sleep.” I walked further into the house, looking around the room, not knowing what exactly I was looking for.

“I have just what you need. Take a seat and feel at home,” he said, motioning to the coach. “I will come back in a minute, sweetheart.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The only sound I could hear was a constant ringing in my ears. And my own heart, my blood that was circling through my body. I followed Austin to the kitchen. He put two large glasses on the table.

“I don’t need alcohol,” I said, watching his back.

He flinched a bit, at my sudden statement, though hadn't turned around. He took out something from the freezer and put it on a table as well. His body obscured the surface.

“It’s not alcohol. Consider it as… protein,” he said, concentrating on a drink making.

I stepped closer. He was wearing a black silk robe that revealed his neck and part of the bare shoulders. I heard his breath. My eyes focused on a pulsating vein on his neck. I felt like a predator. Before I had time to understand what was happening, I found myself grabbing him from behind and my teeth closed on his neck. He gasped and in a second I felt my back hit the cold tiled wall, his hand on my neck.

“Easy, girl! What the hell do you think you're doing?” he asked, pinning me against the wall. “We have only one rule, sweetheart, don’t eat other eaters.” I tried to escape from his grip, but he was stronger than me. “Shh, calm down,” he whispered and I saw his left hand grabbing something from the table. “Open your mouth.” I obliged, not quite catching what was going on. I saw a clear plastic bag with red liquid in his hand. He opened a bag with his teeth and poured the contents of the bag into my mouth. Blood. Metallic nectar. It felt divine.

I drank eagerly, my body was craving the warm liquid. Austin watched me, but still held me tight, his eyes dark with a mix of fascination and amusement. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, his grip on my neck weakening slightly. "Drink it all up. Can't have you losing control again, can we now?"

As I finished the bag he let me go, his hands dropping from my neck. He watched me, his expression unreadable. My body was trembling, I felt the last blood drops rolling down my chin.

"Feeling better?" Austin asked, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“What the fuck was that?” My voice hoarse. I was exhausted.

Austin chuckled, the smirk on his lips growing wider. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"That, my dear, was a lesson."

He paused, letting his gaze rake over her body, taking in my disheveled appearance. I probably looked wild and messy. And bloody.

“What?” I asked completely confused.

"A lesson in control. You're a new eater, after all. I can't have you going around biting anyone who catches your eye."

“That’s the side effect? Am I a fucking cannibal now?!”

He pushed himself away from the counter, moving closer to me.

"Not quite a cannibal, if it makes you feel better," he said, his voice low and smooth. "But you do have... an uncontrollable thirst now. A hunger that's difficult to ignore. When you are on the pill, you need blood to survive. That's just how it works, sweetheart."

“That’s crazy.”

Austin chuckled. "Crazy? This coming from the woman who just tried to bite my neck out of sheer hunger?" He opened a freezer again and took out a bottle of whiskey, pouring it in two glasses. “See, that’s the price for an ability to create masterpieces. You have talent and the pill helps you to direct it right. That’s not the big deal after all, is it?”

“Whose blood was it?” I asked quietly, slowly sitting on the floor.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Y/N,” he replied, sitting next to me and putting glasses on the floor as well. "Drink. You're shaking," he said, pushing the glass towards me.

He took a sip from his own glass, savoring the taste of whiskey. The silence between us was heavy, thick with unspoken words and questions. My head was spinning, my mind - empty from shock. I took a sip from my glass and glanced in his direction, noticing a bite mark on his pale neck. Stain of my lipstick, mixed with a bit of his blood.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hm? Ah, for the bite?” He chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s no big deal” “It will heal in a couple of days.”

“So you do that too? Blood drinking.”

“Yes. You will get used to it.”

“But that’s horrible… I…”

“Only for the first time.” He smiled at me. “Enough about that, let's discuss your new book, do you feel excited?”

“I don’t know what I feel. It all seems like a dream… or a nightmare.” I took one more sip of whiskey. Alcohol was slowly calming my nerves.

He turned in my direction and flinched, putting his hand to his neck.

“Does it hurt?”

“Oh, It’s nothing. Though your little stunt was certainly… intense.”

“Show me.”

Austin tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck to my view. The bite mark on his skin looked like a violent hickey, the edges turning a dark shade of purple. It was still bloody in the middle.

I leaned closer. Austin watched silently. The air between us was thick with tension, the silence deafening.

He didn't move an inch as I inspected the bite mark. My fingers grazed the skin around it, the touch barely there but made him shiver a bit nevertheless.

"Satisfied?" he asked, his voice a bit hoarse. He suppressed a shiver, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Are you done playing doctor?"

After a few seconds of thinking I gently licked the wound. He muffled a hiss.

“Does it hurt that much?” I asked, yet not pulling away.

He sighed. “No. It’s whiskey on your tongue.”

I licked the bite mark again, collecting all the left blood on his skin. Austin took a shaky breath.

“You're going to drive me insane," he said through gritted teeth. I gave his wound a wet kiss. The metallic taste of his blood was intoxicating. Austin gasped. I felt an urge to sink my teeth into his flesh. "Careful," he whispered, his voice rough. “Don't lose control.”

I hungrily bit his skin once again, not being able to stop, and felt his hand on my neck. Austin's breath hitched, unable to hold back a moan.

“You little... minx,” he muttered, tightening his grip on my neck. “I have to be careful with you. Are you still hungry?”

I nodded.

“I have more.” He stood up and poured blood from another package into the wine glass and handed it to me. Austin watched as I drained the glass of blood, his gaze fixed on my mouth. I finished it in a few gulps.

“I am a monster,” I said quietly, putting an empty glass on the floor.

“You’re not a monster,” he said softly. “You’re simply... different. One of the special ones.”

He crouched down in front of me, his hand gently caressing my cheek. “You need some rest now. Come, I’ll show you your bedroom.” Austin stood up and motioned me to follow him.

“My bedroom?” I asked, following him.

“Unless you prefer to sleep in mine.” he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. “You want me to stay here?”

“You need time to adapt and I think it’s not the best idea to let you go out when you are in this condition.”

We went upstairs and walked into the dark room. It was dimly lit, with only the moonlight filtering through the closed blinds. There was a large bed in the center, covered with soft silk sheets, and a few pieces of furniture scattered around. Though the room was a bit cold, it had a sense of intimacy and comfort.

"Here we are, the guest room," Austin announced, gesturing around the room. "I hope it's to your liking. Wait a little, I'll bring some clothes."

Austin headed into the adjoining room, leaving me alone in the bedroom. The silence of the room washed over, and the events of the day began to sink in.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped closer to the bed and sat down on the edge. The silk sheets were cool and soft beneath my hand.

A moment later, he returned with a bunch of clothes in his hands. Black silk pajamas.

“Hope you don’t mind.”

I took the clothes from him and ran my fingers through the smooth fabric.

"They're lovely. Thank you."

Austin leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and tilting his head slightly.

"They will undoubtedly look even better on you." he winked. “Told ya friends can be useful here.”

I placed the pajamas on my lap.

"You're quite the charmer,” I said sarcastically.

He chuckled. “Well, rest now.” he smiled, closing the door. “Oh, I almost forgot. Just in case, my bed is always available, sweetheart."

I rolled my eyes at his suggestive remark, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of my lips.

I waited for the sound of his footsteps to fade away before standing up and stretching. The adrenaline from earlier seemed to have faded away, and tiredness slowly crept over me. Yawning, I undressed and put on Austin’s pajamas. It was big, yet made me feel cozy. I turned off the lights and lay on the bed.

I expected sleep to come easily, but my mind was still spinning, trying to process the events of the day. It’s just a dream, I will wake up at home, in my new bed. Only the taste of blood still lingered on my tongue made me finally believe that this all was true. I wrote a masterpiece in one sitting and the price for this was someone’s life. My eyes closed and in a second I was asleep.

Have a good day/night <3

#i want to suck him dry #ahs double feature #ahs fandom #red tide #american horror story #austin sommers #austin sommers x reader #tw blood #blood kink #vampire

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