#vampire cowboys au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thiswasinevitableid · 1 month

Text

What It's Worth (Indruck)

A big yeehawgust prompt winner was: Undead Cowboy. This fill is NSFW and does mention blood

The stars stud the sky, the sliver of moon rising from the mesa meaning Duck can see them clearly as he lays on his back in the dirt.

His bedroll is okay, but the memory of frost in the air makes him wish he’d had time to snag a few more spare blankets. But all he could manage this morning was the essentials.

He wasn’t going to spend a single minute longer in that damn place than he had to.

They lost the farm in West Virginia two years ago, when Duck was seventeen. His uncle, Papa Newton’s brother, had offered to let the family move to his property outside Santa Fe.

It seemed like a fuckin miracle. Until they settled in and Duck realized his uncle intended to treat them as free labor rather than family. If he has to polish one more round of dishes he’s gonna throw the whole dinner table out the fucking window.

A week ago, when his uncle started making noises about finding his “niece” a husband, Duck decided there was no point in sticking around. Not if that’s how his uncle intended to use him.

So here he is, as far from town as a days ride could get him, hidden from view of anyone on the trails. He’s keeping a small fire up; seems worth the risk to keep the coyotes and cougars from getting too close.

There are footsteps, barely audible, on the other side of the fire. A shadow, with two red pinpoints about six feet off the ground.

He doesn’t have a gun; unlike Winnie, his horse, they all belonged to his uncle, and the fucker might call him a thief and send the sheriff after him if he snuck one away.

“Do not be alarmed.” The voice in the darkness is lilting and weak, “You are in no danger…no danger from…from…”

A thud as the body hits the earth, landing in the ring of firelight. Duck cautiously sits up, buck knife in hand, as the stranger groans and raises up onto his knees with a woozy shake of his head.

The red Duck saw comes from the glasses the man wears on his narrow nose. His whole face is angles. His hair is silvery in the light, which is odd given the fact he appears only a few years older than Duck.

“You okay?”

The visitor grips the knees of his pants, “No. I am so very, very thirsty.”

“I got a little water to spare.”

A weak laugh, “Nono, that will not save me. I need…I need…” He tips his head up with a sigh, as if steeling himself in order to make the request, and fangs catch the scant moonlight.

Duck’s heard the stories about vampires and even weirder things out in the desert. He never put much stock in them; he spent his childhood in the woods, then the desert. He understands how easily folks can spook themselves out in the wild.

“Please say you ain’t after my blood.”

“I am. I have not fed in so long, I was too ambitious in my travels to Greensboro. Too weak to catch an animal. If I go much longer I will become feral, mindless, draining any passerby until they are a husk” he looks up, frightened, “Please, please help me.”

“Uh.” Duck looks around like someone wrote the right thing to do in the sand. He wouldn’t let a human die of thirst. And he doesn’t want anyone getting their throat ripped out. But this feels like a real good way to trick a kind-hearted traveler into being dinner.

“I will do anything you ask” a shudder and a groan, making the stranger hunch forward, “take me to bed, ask me for my weight in gold, the keys to the city, anything, please.” He sobs, trying to crawl forward but only making it to the bottom of the bed roll and clutching it.

“Okay.” Duck begins unbuttoning his shirt, “Okay. You can have a drink, but I, I keepin my knife on me, y’hear?”

“Perfectly. I would not begrudge you such measures, not when you are helping me.” He struggles forward until he’s straddling Duck’s knees. He’s dressed like the cowboys Duck watches with envy as they ride past the house, except every piece of clothing is black.

“Rather impractical in a desert, I know. But I find it suits me.”

“It does.” Duck doesn’t catch the answer in time. The last thing he needs is some fella thinking he’s flirting with him.

“You are very kind. Oh” he notices Duck pulling his shirt collar to the side, “I need not drink that way, I assume you do not wish me to be any closer than necessary. Your arm will suffice.”

“I, uh, I work with my hands and arms so this’ll be less of a pain in the neck. Or not but, uh, you know what I mean.”

The vampire nods, delicately scooting into Duck’s lap. He shivers as the visitor noses his throat, humming happily.

“You smell divine.”

“I been on the trail all day, doubt I smell like a basket of roses.”

“Better.” The voice purrs, “now, this will only hurt a moment.”

Fangs sink into his skin and his entire body lights up in pain, telling him to fight, to run like a jackrabbit. Then all at once it subsides, pleasure rolling like a wildfire on the prairie, lighting up nerve after nerve until he wonders if they’ll burn out.

The vampire has one hand in his hair, supporting his head, the other pressing down on his shoulder, and through the fire crackling in his brain he can tell he’s talking.

“...So good, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou.” The deep bite is over, but he continues nipping at the skin, licking and sucking at the blood. He’s wiggling closer, hips bucking a little, making the neediest sounds Duck’s ever heard between his thanks and praise of everything from Duck’s eyes to the way he tastes.

If he could guarantee the man on top of him would be like this, Duck wouldn’t be half as put off the idea of getting married.

Gradually, the touch on his neck changes to deliberate licks, the last one ending with a kiss as the vampire sits back on his heels. He looks drunk.

“I..I am very grateful for your help.”

“You don’t say?” Duck teases.

“Have I not made that clear–oh! Oh it is a joke.” He grins, mouth still a bit red, “You are a very charming human. And my offer stands; you may ask anything you wish of me as payment.”

He could get a train ticket, or the money to buy one. A place to stay. Clothes he didn’t have to fix up to be right himself.

“That’s real decent of you to offer but I wouldn’t make someone pay me for a drink if they were dyin of thirst. Don’t seem right to ask you to.”

“You are very kind. I will not intrude on you any longer.” The vampire tries to shift out of his lap and hisses. Duck looks down and sees why.

“Y’know, most fellas have a harder time doin’ that once they’re drunk.”

“It, it is nothing” he looks away, embarrassed, “it is merely the natural response to feeling full and safe while in the arms of a handsome man.”

“That so?” Duck licks his lips, “tell you what. Since you biting me got me all riled up, I changed my mind. I want this” he palms the vampire through his pants, “as my fee.”

“Gladly.” Wiry arms drape over his shoulders as Duck undoes the buttons and pulls his dick from his trousers. It’s a nicely sized thing, big enough to be tempting without feeling intimidating, and when he wraps his hand around it the responding squeak is almost a chirp.

“There we go, sweet thing, lemme get my hands on you.”

“Only if I am permitted the same honor.”

“Hmmm” Duck pretends to think as he steadily strokes the shaft, “dunno, why should I let you feel me up?”

A pout, “Because I will be so very good for you. I was good for you when I fed, wasn’t I?”

“You were, sweet as a peach. Okay, you can touchAHhey” he laughs as hands greedily paw his sides and thighs.

“Thank you, oh you are lovely to touch, lovely to hold.” Kisses spread across the closing wound on his neck, “what a lucky creature I am to have found so wonderful a human oh, ohohoh” his hips jerk wildly and he cums on Duck’s fingers.

“Pent up?” He kisses a cheek that he suspects would blush if it could.

“So it seems. Goodness, such things seldom take me by surprise.” A playful kiss to his ear, followed by a nip, “shall I return the favor?

Duck feels one half of him lean into the idea, the other wrench so far back he thinks it might dislocate his joints.

“Nah. I’m, uh, I’m too, uh, tired, fuck, not not turned on, uh. Fuck.”

The vampire cocks his head, then nods, “Then I will not press the matter. Would you like me to stay awhile?”

“Yeah.” He murmurs, “Yeah I would.”

Duck nestles down into his bedroll as his visitor gets his clothing back into order, and falls asleep to long fingers in his hair and a gentle voice telling him of the moths and bats fluttering across the desert sky.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

He goes home when his uncle finally finds him and tells him that if he won’t do his family duty, he’ll find someone to marry Jane, Duck’s sister, to.

Jane’s only 14.

Duck spends the whole ride home hoping the lousy fucker gets thrown by his horse.

A month later, he’s traveling with the old asshole and the equally cold-hearted, sneering woman he married to a party in Santa Fe. Mr. Indrid Cold, one of the area's richest and most mysterious residents, is said to be in search of a wife, and so Duck is in the most masculine dress he could find, hair still short and chaperones scowling as they enter the fine house off the city square.

Duck tries to occupy himself in small talk, and while some of the women there won’t give him the time of day, others invite him into their cluster to hold crystal punch cups and whisper some of the most ridiculous shit he’s ever heard.

“They say he’s a vampire!”

“Don’t be silly, my aunt said she saw him out in broad daylight.”

“Some of them can do that. It depends on their age.”

“Not this theory again, Josephine.”

“I told you, my name is Joe.”

“Anyway, even if your aunt did see him, that won’t help us. They say he throws one of these every few years and no one actually sees him in attendance. He just watches from somewhere so he can learn about us.”

Duck shudders at the idea; this whole thing is already a pain in the ass. It doesn’t need to be a creepy pain in the ass on top of that.

“Pardon me.” A man with the blandest features imaginable addresses the group, “may I accompany you for a turn around the gardens?”

He’s offering his hand to Duck.

“Is this a fuckin joke?”

A mild smile, “Not at all. I have been dying to speak to you since you arrived.”

Duck takes the offered hand, lets the man link their arms as they head into the courtyard. The gardens are stunning, if a bit overgrown, and Duck points out where a screech owl has hollowed out one of the trees.

“Glad they kept the ones that actually grow here. Some folks try to bring the trees from back east out to make their gardens and they just up and die. On account of it bein, y’know, a fuckin desert.”

“That does seem rather ill-advised.”

They talk more about Duck’s move to the desert, and the longer they speak the more Duck feels like he knows the man’s voice. He just can’t place it.

“I take it you are not a fan of the proceedings?”

“I, uh, I ain’t not, uh-”

“You do not need to lie, Duck.” A small smile.

“It just ain’t my world.” He looks down at the dress, “rather be in sackcloth than this fuckin thing.”

“Mmm, I imagine you’d make a rather striking cowboy.”

“Like to think so. Aw fuck.” He turns to where the clock is striking eleven, signaling the end of the party, “I didn’t hobnob nearly enough.”

His companion squeezes his arm, “I would not worry too much about that.”

They say their goodnights and he rejoins his aunt and uncle, only to discover that they’ve booked him a room at a nearby hotel while they stay in a finer one across the road. Almost like they’re hoping his being alone might tempt their host into appearing at the foot of his bed like a fucking ghost.

He chucks his party outfit into the corner, the night hot enough that he decides to risk sleeping in the buff. The church on the other side of the square has just finished ringing midnight, and his eyes are going leaden, when there’s a shuff of his window opening.

He’s five fucking stories up.

Frozen, he watches a huge, winged figure squeeze through into the room. It’s some sort of fucking moth-man thing, and it’s glowing, red eyes are looking right at him.

“Don’t come another fuckin step closer.” Duck grabs his boot from the ground, ready to throw it.

Four arms raise in placation, “You are not in any danger from me, Duck. You were before, you are not now, and you never will be.”

“Your voice…are you the fuckin-”

“-Vampire from your camp? Yes.” Reality snaps for a moment and then the silver-haired man is standing there, clad in a simple black shirt and pants.

“Holy fuck, I thought vampires could only turn into wolves and bats and shit.”

“My moth form is actually my true one. It is a long story. But the point of it all is: I am also Indrid Cold. And was your companion for much of this evening.” He clips a pin to his shirt and the same bland face comes into view.

“Jesus.” Duck breathes as Indrid returns to his usual human appearance and sits on the bed.

“Parties overwhelm me. A small enchantment is the best way to see if there are any guests I wish to know better. Up until now there have not been.” He sets his hand on Ducks covered knee, “why your aunt and uncle sent you here as anything other than a handsome bachelor, I shall never know. You looked so unhappy tonight all I wanted was to take you in my arms and whisk you off somewhere you could be yourself.”

“I, I didn’t mean to hide it from you.”

“I knew at the campsite. I can see the future, and when you rejected further advances it told me what was behind them.” A gentle, fanged smile, “you are a good looking man, Duck. I have not ever seen you as anything else.”

He relaxes, tucks his legs in so Indrid can come closer and stroke his cheeks.

“I throw this party every few years to keep my sire off my back about the matter of marriage. I suspect that may not be the case after tonight.”

“Y’know, getting down on one knee is more traditional than climbing through a window.” Duck teases.

Indrid laughs, “Nothing so rushed. I came because I could not stand another moment away from you. And because do have an offer for you. If you allow me to court you, know that I will never claim ownership over you, nor force you to live as you are not. If you wanted to ride from here to Alaska I would not stop you. Whatever freedom you desired would be yours. I’ve no need to control you, my sweet” he grins, “but I do ask for the chance to make you mine.”

The heat in his voice is clear as a spring sky.

“That so?” Duck kisses him once, “how are you gonna prove bein’ yours is worth it?”

A longer, deeper kiss, Indrid nipping his lip as he pulls back, “However you wish. Though the idea you are about to suggest is one I am very much in favor of.”

“Yeah?”

“If I might be so bold, ah, I…the futures show you enjoying it immensely if I take my true form.”

Duck hesitates, “Let me see it again?”

The bed groans as the mothman reappears. He’s toffee-brown, chest so downy that Duck’s hand sinks into it.

“Fuck, you’re real fuckin soft.”

“Thank you” A chirp of pleasure, “oh that spot has been itching for hours.”

“Which part of you did you, uh, see me enjoyin?”

Indrid opens his mouth, in which Duck can see rows of small, sharp teeth along with the pointed canines. His tongue extends, long and flexible, “ith!”

It should scare the fuck out of him, but all Duck does is kick the covers aside and lay back, spreading his legs.

“Get to it.”

“Gladly.” A fuzzy cheek tickles his left thigh as Indrid nuzzles him. Then he gasps as teeth drag down the skin.

“Do not think I did not notice your reaction to my bite last time. Most humans find it neutral or painful. Few moan as I drink them down.”

“Didn’t even know I was moanin’. Was too busy listening to you be a cute needy thing.”

“I was, wasn’t I.” The tongue teases his folds, “I will be as obedient and sweet as you desire, my darling one, for I do need you.”

Duck wants to say something flirty in reply, but then the tongue pushes into him and he moans. It’s incredible, pressing and teasing, happy little chirrs floating up from Indrid as he takes Duck to pieces.

When his tongue presses on a certain spot, Duck yelps, and his hands flail for something to grab. They land on Indrid’s antenna, and a pleading, chirping groan breaks from the vampire.

“Ohhhyes, it’s been ages since someone toyed with those.” He messily laps at Duck’s dick, “mmmf, you could make me do just about anything by pulling on them.”

“Want you to fuck me.” His horny brain blurts it out without warning and he clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Do you wish me to?” Indrid sits up, wings fluttering shyly and hands soothingly petting Duck’s legs.

“I do, I really fuckin do, but I can’t risk-”

“You would not be. I cannot have children with humans. At least not that way.”

“You sure?”

“Completely.”

Duck takes a deep breath, “Then come down here and fuckME, oh, ohfuck.” His heels dig into the bed as Indrid sinks into him. His cock must be as strange as the rest of him, if the way writhes inside him is anything to go by.

It’s also fucking huge.

“A-apologies.” Indrid is jerking and twitching, clearly trying to keep from moving to fast or pushing too deep, “I, I have never done this with a human before. I did not account for the size, god how tight you are, how small, oh you’re delightfully warm too.”

“Fuck.” Duck groans, tilting his hips to try and fit more inside him.

“Do not strain yourself. My, my anatomy will do the work in a moment.” He purrs, running two hands through Duck’s hair, “I am here to serve you, not make you exert yourself.”

He says it with such sincere affection that Duck leans over to kiss one, quivering wing.

“Oh that’s fuckin wild” He gasps as another part of Indrid’s cock presses into him, still flexible but firm, pushing him open. Several spread wider outside of him, catching at his dick and Indrid pushes deeper with hungry, demanding growl.

Duck doesn’t black out, but if you asked him to describe the what happens next in detail in court, hand on the bible he wouldn’t be of much use. His legs hook onto Indrid’s own, claws dig into his hips, and Indrid’s cock drives into him, his bulk meaning Duck’s face ends up pressed to his chest.

From there he has no choice but to cling to him, feeling the purr in his chest as he promises Duck he will do this and more whenever he asks, be at his service, be good for him because his body is worth that, because Duck is worth that, and just as tears prick his eyes from the intensity of sensation, from the fact the can feel himself cumming, tightening around Indrid as best as his body can manage, there’s a cascade of thank yous, and then his lover cums in him, so much that it runs back down the shaft and is Indrid trills and thrusts a final time.

“Goodness” Indrid pants, rolling them over so Duck is atop him, cock slipping free as he does, “that was incredible, but I do feel I must ask if you are alright.”

“Better than, sugar.” Duck smooths his hands over Indrid’s chest, “ain’t sure I can walk for a few minutes though.”

“Well then, if you need anything, I shall simply fetch it for you.”

“Indrid? Did you mean it? About wanting me to stick around.”

“Nothing would make me happier. But if you need time to decide, or if you do not want to stay, I will not be angry.” He grins, tracing a heart on Duck’s cheek, “though I will add, imagine the look on your wretched uncle’s face when he learns Mr.Cold would like you to stay and be courted, and that Mr. Cold has already bought a fine suit the handsome Mr. Newton.”

Duck chuckles, “Yeah, that does sweeten the deal. Ain’t the only thing makin’ it worthwhile though.”

Indrid chirps happily, and wraps his wings and arms protectively around him.

(To be fair, his uncle nearly fainting from shock the next afternoon is extremely fucking worth it).

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #monster boyfriend #yeehawgust 2024 #vampire au #cowboy au #terato

22 notes · View notes