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porcelainseashore · 7 months ago

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Into the Ether (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Author's Note: Super excited for this crossover series! I’ll try to keep a regular update schedule on Wednesdays. I might take some liberties with VtM lore and mechanics to fit the story, but hope to stay as true as I can to the source material. Finally, I imagined RE2R Leon (my favorite!) in this role 🫶

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: RC By Night

You first saw him in summer, when the days were long and the nights were short, and the streets came to life again. There was the heady smell of pollen in the air and the humidity was sweltering. Just a couple of months after you and a bunch of idealistic friends from your theater school days had taken the plunge, and opened an all-night cafe in one of the cheaper, grittier areas of town, east of the river of Raccoon City.

It had been a scrappy little project, one you didn’t expect to receive a cult following and gain in popularity amongst the intellectuals and counterculture crowd. But then again, there was also the City College nearby and the events program you’d lined up each week drew them in. From comedy nights and disco fevers to site-specific and performance art, you knew what people liked and how they wanted to be entertained. A bit of kitsch, a sprinkle of avant-garde and a generous dose of unpretentious social drinking. It pulled him in too.

Him. You didn’t even know his name. The first thing you had noticed were his striking blue eyes that seemed to glow from the shadows of the dimly lit space, peering out at you. Always observing, always watching, never speaking. Sometimes he’d glance over across the opposite end of the room at another pair of companions — a rugged, broad-shouldered man with a dark crew cut bumping shoulders with a younger, spunky redhead in a matching biker jacket. They’d exchange subtle looks of recognition and mild suspicion before returning to whatever they were doing. Though they never uttered a single word to each other.

He came back week after week, ordering the same drink each time, but never touching it. One Manhattan, please. You obliged. A waitress you had sent over to pry on your behalf told you he enjoyed the cocktail, but couldn’t tolerate much alcohol. You saw him lift the drink to his nose, sniffing it as the corners of his mouth turned upwards, silently smiling to himself before he placed it back down on the table again. Strange. You shook your head and prepared a cup of black coffee, taking it over to him as his eyes lit up in surprise with your approach.

“On the house,” you explained, plonking it down on the table. He raised an eyebrow but remained tight-lipped.

Maybe he didn’t like coffee? Or how did he usually take it? “Uh—” you turned back towards the service area, as if to check that the condiments were still in place. “Would you like some creamer or sugar to go with it?”

He raised his hand to indicate it wasn’t necessary and his jaw clenched, before fixing it into an awkward smile. “Thank you.”

Those were the first words he had spoken to you. It rolled off his tongue like a swirl of mist, a sliver of a dream you couldn’t quite remember when waking up. You took another step forward to get a better look at him. He had a baby face, angelic almost, with that typical, boy next door charm your mom would have gushed at, and you imagined he couldn’t be older than his early twenties. Upon closer inspection, he seemed slightly pale, faint dark circles around his eyes that had seen more than his fair share for his age. There was a sense of weariness and jadedness behind them that made him appear older than he was.

Bringing the cup to his lips, he sipped a small mouthful, letting it sit for a moment, before swallowing it down languidly. You admired the curve of his Adam’s apple, bobbing as the liquid poured down his throat, littered with freckles and specks of moles. Something about his very presence mesmerized you, even more so than earlier. It was hard to place a finger on what it was exactly, and why this feeling seemed to grow with every second you were lingering near him.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping it on the table before offering one to you. Why not? You were a social smoker and took it as a sign to join him. In fact, there was no other place you’d rather be at the moment. You were confused, but did not question it as you took a seat beside him, noticing that he flinched each time he flicked open his lighter to ignite a flame.

His fingertips brushed across your wrist as he lit your cigarette, causing you to shiver in response, while his jaw tensed again, as if trying to rein something in. Licking his lips, he took a puff from his own, exhaling the smoke as it billowed around him and for a second you thought you’d lost him to a wall of fog. Both of you continued smoking in silence, checking in with each other through furtive glances, even though there was nothing to be ashamed about.

At some point, you followed the direction of his gaze and saw that same pair of companions he often regarded from the corner of his eye. They were frowning, giving him dirty looks as he shrugged nonchalantly in return.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” you broke through the thick stillness of the air that surrounded the both of you like a bubble, separated from the rest of the evening revelers.

“You’re observant,” he teased, his eyes crinkling as he stubbed out the leftovers of his cigarette in the ashtray. You followed suit.

“So, what brings you here?” you asked, gesturing to the suit attire sans tie that he was wearing. “Don’t get me wrong, but this place doesn’t exactly seem like the kind you types hang out at.”

“Hm,” he huffed, though your question didn’t phase him. “And what exactly is my type?”

“I’d say you were a yuppie,” you blurted out, your mouth rarely had a filter on these days. “But I can’t be sure, something about you seems…”

“Off?” he offered, smirking, yet his expression carried a hint of somberness.

“Different,” you corrected, but mumbled out a quick apology nonetheless soon after.

“Don’t be,” he grazed your hand again as he adjusted himself in his chair, and you felt like he was doing this on purpose. “At least you’re honest. It’s a rare quality to find these days.” Though the way he said the last sentence sounded loaded with a double meaning.

“These days?” you guffawed. “You’re speaking like an old man.”

He joined in your laughter though that was the end of your conversation for that night. The rest of the evening went by in a blind haze, and you found yourself in a dazed state later on in the wee hours of the morning, still sitting at the same table, but your newfound friend gone without a trace. None of your colleagues had noticed a thing. You didn’t even get his name, but you shook yourself, commanding your limbs to get back to business and clean up after the customers that had left.

The next time you saw him was when you were hosting the karaoke night of the month. Decked out in a shimmery mermaid glitter jumpsuit, hair tied up in pigtails and face caked with extravagant make up, you hopped onto the stage, only to nearly stumble on your flimsy heels when those piercing blue eyes landed on you from the all the way back. Of all the nights he could have dropped in, he chose this one.

You suppressed your embarrassment and warmed up the audience with a couple of well-placed jokes before kicking the event off with those who had registered to participate. It appeared to be a tough crowd as you only had a handful of sign ups, and would need to potentially seek out volunteers when they were done. You hoped the rackety sound system would hold up till then too.

Fortunately, when it came to the crunch — which it did — you always had an ace up your sleeve. “You there,” you called out, pointing towards the back of the room. “Yeah, blue eyes, you.” Crooking your finger, you beckoned him over, waiting in anticipation to see what he would do.

To your surprise, he bowed his head, accepting the challenge, before slowly weaving his way through the crowd, who were cheering him on with your prompting, towards the stage. He flashed you his pearly whites as he climbed up the short stairs, his floppy bangs bouncing with each step. For a moment, you thought you caught something feral in his gaze, but it dissipated when he reached out for the mic from you, his hands sweeping over yours with an electric touch.

You were in awe of him, like almost everyone else in the cafe, when he broke out in a rich tenor voice, effortlessly floating through the notes of the gentle melody, that you felt as though you were being wrapped in a serene, velvet cocoon. Enthusiastic claps and hoots filled the space when he finished. The only two people in the room who were scowling were the same pair of companions he knew from before.

“Will you join me after the show?” he whispered in your ear as he handed you back the mic. Nodding was the only appropriate response.

You were rushed off your feet for the next couple of hours and it was late by the time you called the event to a close, but he was still there, by his usual table, waiting patiently for you.

“So you decided to push me into the spotlight,” he accused with a wry smile.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it,” you shot back. “Here.” You set a cup of black coffee down in front of him. “My treat.”

“You’re too kind.” It sounded flat, like a game that had become routine between the two of you. He took a sip from it, nothing more, nothing less.

That was all you could recall from your conversation. You didn’t get his name until a few nights after.

“Hey, blue eyes,” you acknowledged as he strolled in.

“Leon,” he disclosed sharply. “It’s Leon.”

That was the night of exchanging introductions. You named all the nights you’d spent with him under various labels, so you wouldn’t forget.

Another night, he had whipped out a flip phone and you nearly choked on your drink. “They still make those?” You stared in disbelief.

He turned to face you in amusement.

“Bet you don’t have a—”

You didn’t even need to finish your sentence for him to fish out his pager, dangling it in front of you like a toy.

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “No fucking way.”

He grinned at your outburst and it was one of those times, few and far between, where you experienced a glimpse of that youthful energy he often hid behind a calm, matured facade.

“You’re still living in the 90s dude?” you jested, grabbing the pager as you flipped it over, trying to determine if it was real. It was.

His lips curled up into a playful smirk. “Something like that.”

“Healthcare,” you guessed, squinting at him. “I heard people there still have them. You’re a doctor?”

“I wish.” He coughed out a self-deprecating laugh, before rummaging through his wallet for a sleek white card, sliding over to you. “P.I., actually.”

“Private Investigator Leon S. Kennedy,” you read the title out loud, deliberately emphasizing each word.

“Go ahead, shout it from the rooftops,” he joked.

“Don’t tempt me.” You gave what you hoped was a cheeky wink, not flirty, definitely not flirty.

A lopsided smile spread across his face, and you wondered if you were finally beginning to unravel the mystery of this man, one that he seemed to carry around like a burden.

“Well, now you know where to find me.” He winked back, taking a tiny sip of his free coffee.

That was the night of P.I. Kennedy. Soon, these nights blurred into each other. You felt like you were getting a step closer, but yet you weren’t. He always had you at an arm’s length for some reason, even though he seemed to want more. Why did he keep coming back?

He also appeared to care about what you thought of him. At some point forth, he started dressing down, exchanging his usual formal attire for a shirt with no blazer, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A fine gold chain necklace peeked out from underneath his top collar, which was left unbuttoned. “Better like this?” he asked with no context. You had to pause and consider what he meant for a while before you understood.

“If you’d like to fit in.” You shrugged indifferently. “But I don’t think you want to.”

“You know me well,” he murmured fondly. The back of his fingers caressed the side of your neck, just under your jawline, along a pulse point. You closed your eyes and sighed. It felt sensitive and tender.

“And how well do you know me?” you asked.

There was no reply, but somehow you already knew the answer.

Another thing you were vaguely aware of was that you kept missing the tail end of your interactions with him. It was as though after a certain point in the night, you would come to, like waking up from a daydream, and he would have disappeared by then.

Your colleagues asked if you were seeing each other. Were you? You were only chatting, you surmised. Nothing had gone that far yet, at least from what you had gathered. But you liked him more than you would’ve liked to admit.

He walked you home one night, and when you reached your doorstep, you were about to invite him in, but he interrupted you. “There’s something I need to tell you…”

Guilt clouded his eyes, unmistakable and heavy. But as he was about to say more, he held back, as if pulled by an invisible thread. Then, you felt yourself overcome with tiredness, but it was pleasant and comforting. “Can you help me to bed?” Your voice sounded far away.

All at once, you felt yourself being propped up under his arm and your weight shifting under your feet, until your head touched a feather-soft pillow. He draped a blanket over your unmoving body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should have—” Even in your state, you could tell it pained him.

“I won’t do it again, unless you let me.”

That was the last you heard from him for a while.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon couldn’t get enough of you. Believe him, he tried countless times, but it didn’t work. From the moment he had set foot into that establishment, he had damned himself. He knew it when he spotted you and smelled your sanguine resonance from afar. It was the humor of your blood, and it was stronger and more consistent than he was used to. You were just so full of life, and enjoying it to the point where he was envious. You signified all the hopes and dreams that had been dashed spectacularly to the ground, ever since becoming… what he was now.

He had to have a taste of you. A little drop wouldn’t hurt, would it? He’d been taught ages ago, by Ada, his sire, that he needed people like you to survive. If one ignored their hunger for too long, things would get worse, so much worse, and not just for himself, but for everyone else around him. It was simply the lesser of two evils to feed, and he’d never actually killed anyone by doing so. Then, why did it feel so wrong? He had gotten good at pushing down these thoughts, until they were reduced to an inaudible hum at the back of his mind. Just like many other things, he learnt to compromise. But compromising meant that sometimes, he’d lose a piece of himself. If there was an equivalent of a soul within the monster he had become, then it was fragmented, and he’d never get back the ones that had dissolved into the ether, due to the bad decisions he had made. Like the ones he would soon make with you.

Taste. Taste was something he had acquired since young. In his human life, he always had an eye for detail, an eye for what fit, what worked, and what didn’t. It certainly helped when he became a cold case detective with the police force, filled with unbridled potential, only to have that overturned, when he decided to chase after love instead of missing people and puzzle pieces. For years, he would’ve done anything for her, only for it to amount to wasted time and regret when the inevitable boredom that came with time struck, and he was tossed aside over something exciting and new. Still, he knew a delicious vessel when he saw one. You were just meant to be a special curiosity that he could pass on to the older vampire for a favor or two. At least, that was what he told himself, when you took the initial bait and he beckoned you to stay through unnatural means. That was the first lie.

When he bit into you, he was met with a burst of color, vibrant shades of all kinds of red. The flavor saturated his mouth: sweet roses, his favorite kind, their scent carried on a gentle zephyr; warm light that enveloped him but didn’t hurt; traces of nicotine coursing through your veins; and the familiar iron tang that gave it its kick. Your face, your voice, your very essence haunted him in that taste. He could see you like a will-o'-the-wisp performing on stage in one of your many plays across a lifetime, laughing with your friends in the back of a car speeding down the highway, crying into a pillow when you had your heart broken by your first love… How was this possible? Your memories came flooding through him and you were blissfully unaware of it all. He felt like a spy, listening in to all your secrets and desires, and his blatant invasion of your privacy disgusted him.

This was wrong. He shouldn’t have gotten so close. He should’ve heeded the warning glances the Redfield siblings were throwing his way. So, he tried his best to stay away, but like an addict, he kept crawling back, seeking you out like a dog with its tail between its legs. How could a mere mortal have such an effect on him? Did he taste this way to Ada when she turned him? He laughed sardonically. If only she could see him now, being so torn up over a woman he had just met.

He tried to erase you from his mind, but you were always meant to be something more. You reminded him of all the things he missed when he was living. You were the best he had ever tasted, but he didn’t want to turn you over to her, not yet. After all, he could afford to enjoy you for just one more time. The second lie had spun its thick, dark webs throughout his head. Truth be told, he would never share you with anyone else.

The third lie came when he resolved to tell you what he really was. He couldn’t keep going on like this and deceiving you, but his sire’s words bore down on him. “You don’t get attached to a vessel,” she scoffed. Wait, wasn’t he one too at some point? Her contradictory words replayed in his ears like a broken record. In any case, he wasn’t attached. He was being brave and honest, which was how he liked to think of himself. But when it came to the crunch outside your doorstep, he was a coward, finding himself unable to breach the rules of the Masquerade and gave in to his urges instead. It was then that he realized deep down, he was truly a despicable and hateful low-life.

Thump! He felt his body slam against a solid wall, as he entered a secluded alleyway round the corner from your apartment. A dull ache bloomed across his skin. After the events that had happened that night, he didn’t even bother putting up a fight. He slumped down until the brawny, older male sibling, Chris, lifted him by his collar and pinned him in place. At the same time, the slender redhead, Claire, Chris’ female counterpart, spoke, “Where the hell are you going with this, Leon?”

“Why do you care?” he spat, blood coating his teeth. “The cafe’s in neutral ground, no one’s claimed domain over it yet. I can feed on whoever I like.”

“Listen, you’re Cam scum, but you saved my brother back then, and you used to hang with us,” she hissed, jabbing her finger into his shoulder to emphasize each point. “So, I’m gonna give you a tip, but just this once.”

She brought her mouth to his ear. “There’s interest in the domain… and you’re not the only suitor vying for her attention.”

His eyes widened at the threat.

“Whatever you do, do it fast.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #vampire au #vampire the masquerade #vtm #crossover #fic: into the ether #porcelainscribbles

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viccerys · 11 months ago

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Vtm sketchdump

Sketches of my babygirl that I did during Christmas

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #vampire #art #portrait #sketch #sketchdump #sketch page #digital art #viccerys #world of darkness #oc art #character art #smut #babygirl #toreador #ventrue

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lylailaeth · 1 year ago

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Little sketch of my girl Zorya, as a treat

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #tremere #vampire art #vtm oc #small artist #smut

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mortifying-macaroni · 5 months ago

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I'm rereading my fic for the first time and I can't help but either laugh or go "oooh" at some of the things I've put out..

They're so fucking stupid and stubborn and in love I can't-

#they should just raw dog at this point #gonna correct some small oversights in the writing while I'm at it #can't wait to finally get to the smut part but we're still not there yet #vtm #vtmb #vtmb fledgling #vtmb Andrei #vampire the masquerade bloodlines

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smuttyfang · 1 year ago

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Beckett, An Intimate Night Together

"Can you please do some Beckett/female reader smut? Please."

Words: 1,124

"Have you found anything yet?" Beckett asked while searching the shelves for anything of interest. Your eyes scanned the book you held in your hands. It's leather bound pages were long worn and torn. Your body felt stiff from sitting on the hard floor for so long now.

"Mm, not really. Nothing too special in this one." Gently placing it back on the shelf, you sighed, picking up another beside it. You and Beckett had been traveling together and found an old library that had long been abandoned. It was in Scotland, hidden deep beneath an abandoned castle.

You were sure it must have been a lovely castle in it's better days. It was gigantic, gargoyles adorned the front doors and the peaks at the very top. It's towers seemed to stretch into the sky itself. You both felt it entirely possible that a vampire lived here at one point in time. Flipping through the last few pages of the second book, you placed it back where you found it.

"You know something Beckett?" You stretched out your legs and turned your attention to him.

"Quite a few somethings." He smirked. "Yes?" His voice always sounded a little seductive, without him even realizing it or trying.

"This would be a perfect place for us to stay together. It's beautiful, it just needs some work. And there's still a ton of knowledge to be found, I'm sure." He smirked at you. You always suggested things like this, but he would never give up on his search for Kindred knowledge.

"What, you think we will find another abandoned library hidden behind another bookshelf?" He teased.

"Well, it's entirely possible. This place is huge. We just have to take out all of these books and see which one makes a clicking sound." He smiled now, putting down his book and picking up another.

"What would be the odds of that happening again? I suppose it's always possible." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing is impossible, Beckett. But.. can I ask you for a favor?"

"Of course, dear." Your stomach knotted when he said that. In a good way.

"Can we just.. stay here for a while? Please? We have all of eternity to look for these things. I want to spend time with you." His eyes met with yours. His emotions were incredibly hard to read. "Just a few nights. Please?" A sigh escaped his lips.

"Just gather some books to take with us, anything that looks interesting. We will find a room to stay in for the night." You could have squealed with excitement, he never agreed to spend time in one place or another unless it was daytime and you were both unable to leave. You stood up and dusted yourself off, walking over to him and giving him a small peck on the cheek.

"Thank you, Beckett." You gave him one more, before you scanned the room for anything interesting. You picked up a few that had strange symbols or languages, and you both set off to search for a decent room.

After an hour or two, you managed to find a room that didn't seem to be as disheveled as the rest of the castle. It had a large regal bed, an odd green color, covered with a canopy. The room had a fireplace and plenty of candles to use. You both set your books down near the fireplace.

"I think this will do." You pulled some matches from your pocket and lit some of the candles. You opened the curtains and pushed the window open. It creaked and groaned from the time it spent untouched, but still came open nonetheless. The full moon was out, and the cool breeze felt nice against your skin. You heard something creak behind you. Turning around, you realized Beckett had gotten a clean blanket from your bag and covered the dusty bed in it.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to bring one of these. I would hate to get you covered in dust." He laid down on the bed, resting his eyes. You wiggled your eyebrows to yourself.

"Are you saying you want to roll me all over this dusty old bed?" You smiled and crawled into bed beside of him. You snuggled up close to him. Even though he was cold to the touch, he made you feel so safe and secure.

"As a matter of fact, I might be saying just that." You perked up immediately, hearing his words. He wasn't often in the mood, but when he was, it was fantastic.

"Then please, indulge me." You loved it when he got like this. It was almost like a bestial side of him came forth when he wanted to make love. His lips enveloped yours in a cold kiss. Your tongue danced along the inside of his mouth, rubbing over his teeth. That was always your dead giveaway. You gazed into his eyes with passion. "I want your bite." He gave you his signature smirk again.

"Anything for you, dear." Although he drank from you often, when it was during sex, it was even more intense and pleasurable. His mouth trailed down your chin and traveled to your neck while he tore away at your clothing, pulling his own bottoms away.

"You always tear my clothes.." You said in a daze. He didn't respond. He merely kept his lips against your skin while he pumped his blood to his cock, bringing it back to life once more. He readied himself at your hole. Letting his teeth graze your neck, he picked out his favorite spot of yours to bite. When he reached the perfect target, he slowly worked his way inside of you, inch by inch. His teeth dug into your skin at the same time, giving you the most perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. He moaned aginst your skin, sucking the blood from your body while he began pumping into you.

"Beckett, oh.. fuck.." He pulled away from your neck, looking up at you with blood and lust ridden eyes. Your blood dripped from the corners of his mouth. Pulling himself upward, he presses his kips to yours, letting you taste yourself. He kept his eyes locked on yours, breathing against your skin.

"Now that I've started, I'm not going to stop." He reached down to bite you once more.

AO3

#VTM #vampire the masquerade #VTMB #vampire the masquerade bloodlines #beckett #beckett x reader #smut #fanfic #scenario

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viskarenvisla · 5 months ago

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Thirst - Chapter 6: Her Tolerable Victory

In Chapter 6, we see our heroes finally coming to terms with what this dalliance could mean, since it's been persisting. For Monroe, little victories add up and her Syndicate receives relief from their elders; for Mizrah, an attempt to build closeness almost lands them both in the midst of disaster. Enjoy.

It wasn’t exactly what she’d asked for, but any victory was a victory…any means by which their individual unlives could become a little more tolerable was a service in the name of the grand, shared Requiem of the Dead. The Church of the Damned insisted that the Children of the Night were God’s excoriating lash, the first of them created to send the pious to the gates of eternity and to create a hell on Earth for the wicked.

That was pure bullshit of course; their existences were a result of something real and provable, even if it wasn’t scientific the way the mortals understood it. The Blood could be tasted…it could be harvested from the living and it could work wonders. It was water for their fields, sealant in the brickwork of their carefully constructed post-mortem lives, the very reason and drive behind their parasitic existences.

In the modern era, thanks to the miracles of refrigeration and plastic vacuum-sealing, The Blood could be neatly packaged and distributed like culture, religion, and sex in this late-capitalist world she’d once struggled fruitlessly against. Neat, perfect little IV bags of ruby-red lifeforce, sitting in stacked beer coolers, had been delivered to the dockyard at precisely the moment the Overseers had promised.

Things didn’t seem so bad. In fact, her mood had been quite elevated lately from her usual state of grim, ultra-focused determination - a corpse miming Lenin - to something approaching the enthusiasm she remembered when she could feel the sun on her flesh, before smartphones were a fad. As far as the analytical part of her mind could decipher, there were three reasons for this.

The first, the most visceral and obvious, was the Lupine blood running through her veins. She hadn’t felt truly warm in over a decade and ever since she’d started drinking from the werewolf, it felt like she had been thawed from a long winter. It was apparent in the smooth, vital speed of her movements and the ease with which the blush of life rose forth, even solely in the presence of her fellow Kindred.

The second, she knew, was because of the victory she’d secured in the name of the Syndicate. The crate had been marked specifically with their sigil, lowered by a crane-rope over the side of a speedboat onto the dock by the anonymous, enslaved humans that worked for the Ancient Dead. While their tithes hadn’t changed, and the “process of redistributing feeding grounds was underway” (how much process could there be? Paperwork was an extraneity and danger for their kind) this proved to be a creative solution to a convoluted problem. The blood may have been cold, but the cells were still alive and tasted just fine to the tongue. It meant less time needed to be spent in the face of danger scrounging the troughs, risking an unwanted opiate rush or Prey turning on the Predator. Hunting was dangerous.

The third was something she didn’t necessarily want to acknowledge, but realistically had no choice - the…four, five encounters she’d had with Mizrah in those motel rooms, once at his apartment, had been good. Really good. To her surprise every time, he fucked her amazingly, which was unusual because the sensation of a man thrusting into her was usually not one that she relished…but that was because she’d rarely liked the men thrusting into her. She wouldn’t admit to liking him - he was brash, confrontational, cocky and arrogant - but it would be a lie to say he wasn’t charming, surprisingly well-read, and warm-hearted. Even when she’d been sharp with him, trying to ward him away from the inevitable danger their union and dalliance represented, he was reeling her back in with his sweet smile and irrepressible humor. Most other vampires could be serious downers, and even though there’d been a girl she cared about that once made her laugh…well, that was a long time ago. It was different too, having these feelings for a man…but he wasn’t just a man.

He was a dangerous thing, a human mind spread like a thin layer of olive oil over a hot, cast-iron surface of animal instinct and danger. There was no doubt, she was partially drawn to that dangerous side of his, and loved the way his powerful body overwhelmed hers…how she enjoyed having to work to fit him inside of her, and those piercings! A rare, incredible find indeed. She involuntarily squeezed her thighs together as she offered a pair of blood-filled IV bags to Samara. The young, skinny little stripling took them with hunger that was all too familiar to her and one slipped from her grip toward the concrete dock - the sound of alarm that escaped her throat moved Monroe’s thoughts from the debauchery she’d been engaging in.

Carter’s hand shot out, snagging an IV sac from sliding to a watery fate and handing it back to the little kindred, who took it greedily and pulled it to her chest. In her wide brimmed hat, ankle-length moss-green woolen coat and with that drawn, round-eyed face, Samara reminded Monroe of a character from a Charles Dickens novel. “Thank you Carter…dunno what you said or gave, but you’re saving us from some bleak shit,” came her hissy little whisper of a voice.

There were three of them down here on the pier - William with his fishy, discomfiting demeanor and Melinda in her perfect suit coat and skirt worked at her side, under the garish floodlights that Harlowe had installed on the warehouse’s tin roof. It wasn’t like they couldn’t see in the dark, but the light made everyone here feel just a bit more normal, everything considered.

Samara lingered…Monroe suspected that she’d been taken by her Sire when she was little more than eighteen years old, caught in a body that was at the end of adolescence but hadn’t yet fully entered adulthood. She supposed she should feel fortunate that she’d been swallowed by the Dark in her late 20s. Will noticed; despite his fearsome exterior, cloaked in obscuring sweaters and oversized pants from judgmental, fearful eyes, the Nosferatu had somehow stayed the kindest and most sensitive among them, and gave her a spare nod. We’ll take care of things here. It wasn’t like there was a lot to be done…there were only thirty three other Kindred besides Monroe who were part of the Syndicate, and this victory had turned them from a rowdy crowd into something surprisingly organized, patient even.

How willing they were to fall-in for the thing they all craved.

Melinda’s clarion, southern belle voice rang out when she received the look from William. “Alright ya’ll, chairwoman’s got business, split yerselves between me and Will and keep it orderly-like.” There was a chorus of grumbling but the pale blonde beauty patiently herded the Dead with a resigned ease that Monroe had yet to develop…maybe never would; Melinda’s Ventrue lineage made it easy for her to command obedience, if not to inspire.

"Come on Sam." Monroe's tone was soft as she led the rail-thin little Gangrel back up the pier, away from prying ears and eyes - maybe Samara felt less self-conscious in front of the Syndicate’s leader because she jabbed her fangs through the plastic, sucking the cold blood from the bag and giving a shuddering sigh of relief. She watched as Samara’s big pupils dilated so wide they consumed the whites of her eyes, her veins showing through the flesh of her neck and wrists as they pumped new vitae through her body.

“What’s on your mind, kid?” she prompted the rail-thin vampire, whose unnatural gaze seemed to…come back, flickering Monroe’s way. Gulping down the last of the bag, leaving it clean and clear, she fingered the other IV sac like it was filled with hundred dollar bills.

“Ssso, you remember that problem I had?” Samara began - at some point the bag of blood disappeared either up a sleeve or into a coat pocket - “you know the one.” She made what the Brujah might describe as a ‘creepy-crawly’ motion with her hands. “Did you make any headway on it with the lords and ladies?” Monroe did, in fact, know what she was talking about, as Samara rarely complained about her lot in unlife and had been elusive from the very first when approached about asserting themselves with the Overseers. “Yeah…you talkin’ ‘bout that thing you said was haunting your troughs. They said they’d look into it, but you know what that means. It gettin’ bad?”

Samara’s answer came in the form of a long, quiet stare out along Cromwell Drive. Cromwell ran along the shoreline, past acres of industrial wasteland in which the weakest of them were forced to make do…like Little Samara, whose sliver of trough ran through the old, closed down weaving-houses and dye plants, where the neighborhoods were low-slung and violent. It was part of the greater swath of The City that Mayor Karve’s administration had given up upon, like the Calderon dynasty before him. Older, stronger Kindred might have been able to handle whatever nightmare creature had gibbered up from the dark, and if the Overseers gave a shit about them at all they’d send those fancy beghouled soldiers of theirs in to clean it out…that would have months ago.

Monroe knew how to handle herself in a scrap, and she could easily dislocate a man’s limbs or simply smash down a locked door to get at prey, but she wasn’t a natural born warrior and killer - few of her kind actually were; violence between Vampires was the last thing any of them wanted. Of course, there were things out there that responded to nothing but…and she had the feeling they were dealing with something of that nature. “Come on Sam. I’mma need details if you want me to act on it, much as you can remember, you feel me?”

The push in the young Brujah’s voice made Sam’s head swivel toward her, reminiscent of an owl, big eyes closing one after the other. “It comes out on clear nights. I can hear it…when it's coming out from somewhere, down there." Samara pointed a finger toward the pier, where the gulf was patiently lapping at it.

"Outta the water? Like some Black Lagoon thing?" Pressing the quiet vampire for details - Samara shook her head patiently, pointing again and hooking a finger like a claw.

"No. It's never wet…smells like salt, wind, ammonia. Not water. There's a section of the wharf where I stay. It's crumbling, down, down, splish-splash into the sea. From its belly." Samara demonstrated by bending forward and making a motion with her hands that seemed to mime entrails falling from her belly.

"Alright, so…what makes it something we can't just leave be and let live?" That was the best way for their kind to make it after all; there had to be a reason beyond simple disdain to take action against another creature of the night just trying to make it in the dark.

"It's…scary Monroe. It doesn't just crawl…" she checked her left and right before stepping closer. "It flies."

Tossing her rainbow braids over her shoulder she waited a moment. "...and?"

Sam squirmed…Monroe couldn't help but wonder how, exactly, she managed to feed - she was so used to drawing prey in with the force of her personality, while Little Samara barely registered to the senses. "And it also drinks from people, but it fucks them up too. Like…real big bites, not the Kiss. I don't think it's one of us, Carter."

"Sam, I know you don't like…creepy-crawlies, but if it's a threat to the masquerade we'll get Kippy on the papers and blogs and - "

"It went after me Monroe!" She blurted out. Samara cast her eyes downward, tapping her steepled fingers together, finding the will to make herself heard to the patient leader of the Syndicate. She fixed her owl's gaze on the other Vampire, tearing it from the water as desperation pushed the words forth. "It flew after me, screaming and shrieking…chased me down an alley, it's a canny pilot of its own body. Barely got away, I barely made it and it's still there." The smaller woman's voice quavered…it wasn't often that she heard fear - actual, true fear - from another of the Dead.

"Carter…maybe, you and Will," Sam began furtively, in a tone that reached the dead corners of her heart, "could you guys…maybe find a way to deal with it?"

She felt the weight of responsibility creak upon her shoulders, slabs of concrete need tinged with fear and hunger; there was little choice in the matter, as every member of the Syndicate swore to safeguard one another, from their myriad secrets to their unnatural flesh. This promise had, of course, been made under the assumption that this meant a united front against the Elders, but their sires weren’t the only danger to The City’s unquiet dead. “Yeah. I’ll talk to him.” She ticked names off on her fingers. “Corra…Vorath. They’re best for this. Can’t promise I’ll see it done in one night.”

Samara nodded, crestfallen and picking at the tips of her spidery fingers. Still afraid, clearly; her face was so young, even though the other vampire had been dead for a good seven years. She still relied so much on others, her coterie either ashed or in torpor somewhere after The Cull…like an orphaned kid.

Absent the Blush, the sympathy that crossed Monroe’s pale, leering face seemed out of place. She dug into her back pocket and withdrew a single key from the brass ring, dangling it before Sam’s bright eyes. “Here. You can stay on my turf, and if you want you can even Dayrest there. It’s fine, seriously.” Little Samara’s mouth opened, revealing the piranha sharpness of her teeth, involuntary exhalation of corpse-cold breath from her lips across the Brujah’s fingers. She took the key delicately, cradling it like a treasure…because that’s what it was. It was an incredibly rare thing to allow another Kindred into the place one rested, but the Bonds of Death were strong and went beyond mere territorialism. “Carter…that’s…you don’t gotta - ”

“Shh. Take it.” She closed Sam's fingers around the metal. “We watch one another, that’s what we swore.”

Monroe Carter, rhymes with martyr.

Just because they were dead didn’t mean they couldn’t have compassion for one another. Samara held the key close before it disappeared into her coat. She gazed up at the other vampire with those big, sad eyes of hers. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not strong and decisive like you all are. I wish I was more like you or Nettletongue.” Oh Sammy…

Monroe was usually real good about not letting herself be moved beyond her duty, beyond her responsibilities - even when she was one of the Quick, she always worked at her wage, never beyond…she never did favors that weren’t unrequited…compassion always had a price, but for the Hungry Dead the only real thing of material value was the Blood, and there simply had to be more to an unlife than that. “You don’t gotta be like anyone but yourself. We come with what we got, and we support the Cause with what we have so we can all have more.” The two dead women smiled at each other, the twisted, arcane beating of their hearts remembering something of sisterly closeness.

The chairwoman, as she was known, returned to help Will and Melinda finish up but by then almost all of the crimson treasure had been distributed. To her surprise, they’d waited for Monroe to return - a sign of respect, gratitude? - before dispersing into the night, back to whatever mundane or disturbing existences they led.

“Good job Carter,” called Manny, grinning his bulldog grin and chomping down on that cigar of his between his dry, bloodless lips.

“Yeah…way better than what we was gettin’.” Vorath agreed, nodding in comity with his old rival-turned-ally. He held their allotments close to his belly, round green-lens glasses reflecting her visage back at her.

Melinda’s cornflower blue eyes regarded her with fond admiration; in Will’s inhuman, slitted gaze was the simple gratitude of someone who’d been desperate before, but was less so. It was in their adoration and their gratitude that Monroe found her motivation, and this was her greatest guilt because she knew that she was a simple, selfish creature…a parasite that fed on blood, desire and the needs of others. What if she grew bored of the needs and wants of the Syndicate’s members, fickle thing she was?

So instead she said some bullshit words about solidarity. She raised her fist in a bullshit show of strength that the other Dead mimicked because they had no other source of faith or hope, now that the Elders and their endless hungers had sucked those things dry. Later, when she wasn’t feeling truthful with herself, she’d insist in her own mind that The Cause was the most important thing in the world.

When the others had been dismissed, she called on scaled, powerful William; wily, perceptive Vorath; and quick, deadly Corra to stick around and discuss the…flying thing in Samara’s territory, what sort of interventions they could provide. The usual bickering, the banter and back-and-forth was easy for her to fall into - outside observers might mistake the intensity with which they debated for hostility, ideas both workable and absolutely ridiculous floated and shot down.

William, for all his fearsome appearance may imply, was the first and the last to suggest a diplomatic approach, or at least to try and capture whatever they were dealing with rather than simply killing it outright…but whatever it was, it was eating with messy lethality and even went after Samara. A tradition violated, and a line crossed - it had to die.

Vorath the Thricefold had little reservation for murder, and had stapled more than one Lupine head to the Overseers' walls when they'd asked it of him. Normally relying on the band of hooligans he exercised some loose command over, Vorath was more than enthusiastic to bring hot lead, sharp steel and his own personal inquisition into Sam's territory; two of those three were appropriate, given Little Samara's care for discretion.

Corra…she had few ideas of her own to contribute besides simply tracking it, isolating it, ambushing it. She had the aspect of a needle, coated with poison, pinched between two skeletal fingers. The Mekhet made little secret of her disdain for Vorath’s or William’s methods, and while the dusky Alabama-girl didn’t exactly endear herself to Kindred and Kine, her idea of luring the beast out with potential prey and springing an ambush was the most practical.

Monroe wore her mask well; the image of sharp-tongued, collected leadership, whipping these fanged, bickering parasites into some semblance of cooperation to stalk and eliminate a threat to one of their own, but…truthfully she had little idea what she was doing. Hunting down humans, other Kindred? That was something Monroe understood, and she knew how to get a crowd of angry people on her side. Like most Vampires, she was a creature meant for a niche existence, not to track down nameless, mostly unknown horrors and hope she could kill it before it killed her.

The other members of the Syndicate bid her farewell; William slid back into the river, paddling through the waters to the flooded Union Corners. Vorath, unsurprisingly, growled away on the back of his thundering Harley toward Koreatown while Corra simply walked to the River District to hunt.

Now that the business of the night had been resolved, she could finally turn her attention toward her own needs…well, desires. She was, as of yet, still flush with the blood she'd taken from her trysts with Mizrah - he insisted he could take it, and likely the pleasure-hungry wolf really thought that. She worried his love of the Kiss overrode his common sense the same way his blood, his voice and his sheer sexual potency smothered hers. Already, her phone was in her hand, and she was scrolling to his message thread, feeling simultaneously guilty and excited.

"God dammit," she cursed, already starting to tap out a message when she saw she had one from him, unread.

Mizrah: `what are you wearing?`

Oh come on she thought, but there, unbidden, the smile that pulled at the edges of her dark, pretty mouth whenever she talked to him. Silly teenage nonsense…

Monroe: `nothing worth showing you…yet,`

She walked toward where the #87 bus trawled back toward the River District where she made her home.

Mizrah: `that isn't true, you make anything look good ;)`

Her flats whispering silently across the concrete of the abandoned wharf, Monroe rolled her eyes at the cheesy, totally…horny-college student level of communication, and herself for participating in it. She plucked at the dark gray, long sleeve shirt hugging her torso…her maroon board shorts served the purpose of staying up on her hips if she had to run, climb a building, or stalk a mark. She didn't feel pretty…but he kept saying it anyway.

Mizrah: `so let's see!`

Okay…well, he must have really wanted to have a look, and no denying, it felt nice. He hadn’t stopped desiring her either…no sudden change in tenor, no ghosting - hell she could barely get rid of him, or rid him from her thoughts. Monroe considered as she jaywalked through a red light, looking up from her phone screen to stare down a honking Ford Explorer. The headlights illuminated her golden, death-bird’s stare and grave-blanched flesh, as the mockery of human life hadn’t been necessary in the presence of her fellow Kindred. Still, now that she was talking to him, it felt right to be presentable.

Livening her tissues, she scouted her surroundings and found a streetlight. Drifting beneath and activating her phone's camera…she…realized she hadn't taken a selfie in years.

She glared at the screen, pursing her lips with attitude and raising her middle finger…perfect. Monroe sent it off with a smirk and slid her camera up her sleeve as she quickened her pace for the bus stop, a miserable little spit of glass and steel that projected out of the sidewalk. A trio of ragged homeless people were sleeping within, folks she had no reason to disturb, so she waited with her arms crossed under the bullet hole ridden transit sign. A response came on her phone, which she glanced at.

Mizrah: `feeling spicy tonight, Carter? It’s cute when you act tough…and you look sexy like i said`

"You're damn right it is, and you’re damn right I do," she smirked when the old, shuddering heap of a bus came, climbing aboard and flashing her transit card as she took a seat amongst…she didn't care right now. She was enjoying this, enjoying herself instead of agonizing over the problems of others.

Monroe: `yeah yeah enough cutesy flirting Mizrah, where we gonna meet?`

Mizrah: `actually I was thinking, let's meet at river and forsythe, just come and hear me out`

River and Forsythe? That was about as public a place as existed in the District, essentially where all the other transit connected to the rest of The City. That wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind and she wasn't into exhibitionist-type shit - she existed by the grace of her discretion, which was already threatened by what she was doing with him. He wasn't stupid either - a daredevil, bold, but creatures like them didn't make it long without learning to be careful.

Monroe: `the hell you want out there?`

Mizrah: `oh my god monroe you'll see, you wanna hang tonight or not??? cmon itll be fun`

She did want to hang out with him…they’d done that once actually and it’d been the nicest time she’d had with another person since the last time she’d had something serious, way back when she’d woken up at that woman’s side, drank coffee and watched the sunrise. Monroe had let her go long ago…last she checked Sadie had her first grandchildren.

She hadn’t felt that old ache for some time, stuffing it down and watching The City go by for a few stops, back toward her Haven. She put her thoughts for Mizrah on pause for a moment as her eyes took in the sight of this night-stricken place. Here in Ashland, on the edges of the River District, few were willing to stay outside after darkness crawled across the sky, chasing the sun from Mississippi.

Those who did come out at night…well.

The bus’ headlights cut through the dreamlike mist, illuminating a man seated upon a milk crate on a street corner. Garbage bags were wrapped around his head and shoulders, the bloated, pale mass of his chest and belly exposed, covered with sores. A sign was clutched in his hands, missing fingers: ALL HAIL THE MURDER MESSIAH it read. Monroe could feel him watching her as she passed.

In an old basketball court, whose hoops had been broken and torn, a circle of ravens stood in silence around a small pile of birds’ skulls; her vision, attuned to the darkness, picked up their bony beaks clicking in unison.

Creepy fuckin’ place. She looked down at her phone again, tapping out a quick message as her stop drew near.

Monroe: `yeah alright, you just bring your bad self and make it good`

Monroe Carter, one of the last people on this bus, climbed off into her lonely district of tall-yet-squat residential buildings and abandoned workshops. Down in the white, clean concrete of her Haven, behind sealed steel doors that she’d once thought to be nearly impenetrable (until a certain Lupine had shown up and almost ashed her), Monroe picked through the collection of clothes she kept neatly folded on these blue plastic racks that held her meager possessions. Her style had always been flashy, prone toward a sort of Bohemian-punk chic that drew attention when she wanted it to, and also helped her blend in when she didn’t.

Why would tonight be any different? She didn’t need to dress up for him of all people, or anyone else for that matter. Monroe glanced at herself once more in the mirror, completely naked as she fiddled idly with the diamond in her navel.

He was a fan of that…she liked the way he sometimes bit it, tugging it lightly. “No…not right now,” she muttered. She pulled a bubble-gum pink bra on, matching pink bikini underwear gracing her nethers. Uninterested in spending too much time worrying about what to wear, she reached into the folded stacks, closed her eyes, and ran her finger up and down a few times until she pinched something and pulled it free…perfect.

A black and orange tiger-stripe tank top, low-rise blue denim that clung to all her best parts; the kids may have brought Mitt Romney-style mom jeans back into the fashion cycle, but they’d have to pry her skinnies from her cold, dead fingers. A red silk sash tied around her waist, an end trailing along her leg for effect…yeah.

Yeah...He’ll like this, she thought, despite herself.

She was making for the door when she stopped, catching her own scent…she smelled vaguely of paper and old leather, of wet earth and shifting air. Her heart fell, even as she remembered how he’d kissed her passionately when she’d looked like a walking corpse, and she turned back inside to sit down on her folding metal chair, crossing her arms under her chest and thinking this through.

She could easily be doing something productive…something that actually helped her kind. Hell that’s what she’d been doing for the past five years since she broke free of her own Sire’s will, leaving her staked in a cabin basement, far out in the bayeux. While she was condemned to this soulless existence, it was still, in some ways, a second chance…a way to do things right for people who were stuck in the same situation as she was. She’d been so selfish and short-sighted in life; the Church of the Damned - the Lance and Sanctum - they were right about one thing (and one thing only), that she’d been returned from beyond the Grave to fulfill a purpose. Where they ardently believed in the bloodsoaked covenant with a God that didn’t exist, Monroe understood clearly that her mission on this earth was to make their existence just a bit more tolerable.

Yusuf was a known quantity in The City…at least to the Undead, insofar as he’d refused to participate in the Cull, as she’d confirmed after some digging. Still, it didn’t change the fact that association with the Lupine was just dangerous for her, not to mention for him - she’d come to accept that she had some concern for his wellbeing, at the very least so he could prove entertaining when she took the risk of sharing a bed with him…no, it was more than that. Part of her wanted to believe that he really was sweet on her, and those were the leftover stirrings of her humanity. She’d heard that as the years dragged on, those echoes became quieter and quieter as loved ones died, the world changed dizzyingly, and the Beast became ever louder.

In ten years, would she even be able to feel this way at all?

Monroe turned her chair to regard the lava lamp Mizrah had brought her as a gift, apparently to ‘liven this place up’ (she didn’t think he was trying to make a bad joke that time). It was kinda ridiculous and over the top, just like he was, and he honestly didn't have to get her that…but she couldn't deny that she was touched in a way. Standing and traipsing toward it, she tinked her fingernail along its smooth, curvy surface. "Haven't tossed it yet Lommy," she remarked to the fat, stuffed fox on her pillow. He smiled back at her harmlessly, and she pulled a light faux-leather jacket and admired / loathed herself in the mirror before setting out.

Forsythe and River weren't far…a couple bus stops, and soon she was out of the industrial darkness of Ashland and into the candy-colored light of the River District. The crowds slithered down the sidewalks lining the Red Rock River, and she could pick out distinct clumps within it.

See the corporate suits in their ties and blazers, fresh from the office…even in their debauchery they couldn't shake the sigma suite look, their trickle-down darkness reaching the streets.

See the gaggle of college kids in their letter jackets and baseball caps, their miniskirts and dazzling jewelry…America's future, slowly spinning down the drain.

See the San-Jiao Gang Boys in their colorful, bright digs, with their spiked hair and neon sunglasses worn at night…she could score a quick coke high from sipping at them.

If she closed her eyes and opened her senses she could easily hear the tens of thousands of heartbeats around her, a dinner bell drumbeat to the Beast. This particular district was a rack that belonged to Isidoro, and he had agreed to open it on Saturday nights to the common bloods…another victory on her part.

The train station at the place where River Street met Forsythe Boulevard had grown truly monolithic from its early days as a little transit hub. Like any public building in The City, it was simultaneously blessed with a sort of baroque charm but its dumpy, looming shape had been thoroughly encrusted with neon signs that, in different ways, all screamed the same thing:

EAT. DRINK. CONSUME.

Here was where Monroe grew uneasy, since others of her kind might be here…watching. Members of the Syndicate, sure, but also Ancillae who were bound to the Overseers through ties of blood and patronage.

She scanned the crowd pouring in and out of the massive gates, watching for him - there…she heard a heartbeat among the manyfold hearts that was outlandishly strong, and it was coming up to her from behind. Monroe clenched her fist in anticipation, closing her eyes, knowing what was coming and unable to say no, even here.

"Hey baby," he whispered into her ear and kissed her cheek, his warm lips brushing against it. Monroe sighed unnecessarily, lips pulling into a grin as she turned around to regard him, hooking a finger gently in his sleeve, plucking it gently and…leaving it at that.

"Hey yourself Peter Steele," she purred and linked her wrists behind her back. Monroe's eyes ran over his body, taking him in. It looked like he'd…dressed nicely, or however close the lead guitarist for Instrument of - sorry…INSTRUMENT OF AGGRESSION dressed. "I didn't know you could wear white, thought it was anathema to you goth boys."

"I'm not goth, dork," he deadpanned but she could hear the smile in his voice. He looked good in the white, button up shirt gracing his carved torso; he knew what he was working with, but all the same she reached up and undid one of the buttons to show a bit more of that chest. Little steel studs had been pierced through the collar, since he just couldn't stay away from his metal. He'd exchanged that…ridiculous belt with the harmonica shaped buckle for something a bit more standard - wait nope, studs on the buckle. They held up a pair of light green cargo pants that fit his body impeccably, and as usual she found her eyes drawn to the shape of his masculinity. Damn.

"Eyes up here," he joked, drawing a wry glare before he suddenly took her fingers, tugging her lightly inside. That was the most shocking thing he'd done in a few days, and this was a man with little shame - but brazenly holding her hand like that, in public? She was actually stunned enough that she let it happen as he pulled her through the turnstile. She kept up with him and found her fingers interlacing with his, staring at the definition of his back through his shirt.

It was stupidly romantic in a way, being dragged by her mysterious, dark lover through a station like they were going to elope or something, and in her head that fantasy played out briefly -

…Awakening from Daysleep in a bed that was warm because he'd lain there, protecting her in her most vulnerable state…no judgment in his eyes at her dead state, only familiar welcoming humor…no struggle beyond their hunts, and even then maybe they could somehow hunt together.

Could it happen?

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wholoveseggs · 6 months ago

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Hey lovely, your latest story gave me an idea. How about Reader and Elijah have been together for a while, but he is the one to avoid sex. Every time he has been with a human, it overpowered them or hurt them. He can't keep Red Door Elijah in check, which is fine when he's with a supernatural being, but not when he's with a human. Reader knows his backstory but is determined to show him that their love is different.

Control

{I've officially run out of gifs I want to use, so I'm in my moodboard era now}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Plagued by nightmares of hurting you, Elijah avoids any form of intimacy, but you have had enough. You confront him about his rejection and Elijah finally learns how to let go and lose control.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23, love love love red door elijah and his dark side ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, lots of angst, red door Elijah, trauma, nightmares, visions of death, blood, blood drinking, rough sex, aggressive flirting, dom!elijah, jealously, masquerade ball, elevator vandalism...

Elijah needed control the way a drowning man needed air. It was as if it was a basic function, like oxygen, like blood. He had always been that way, even before he was turned, but it got worse when he was forced to take lives for food and to stay alive. His nature demanded he take what he wanted, when he wanted, but he was afraid of that, so he clung to rules, to discipline.

But no matter what he did, he was still plagued with the same nightmare. You, his perfect love, dead in his arms. Your body limp and lifeless, your eyes open but vacant. And all because he couldn't control himself. Your blood stained his skin, his clothes, his heart.

You knew better than to sneak up on a sleeping vampire, but it wasn't just any vampire. It was your Elijah, your sweet, loving, gentle Elijah.

All you wanted to do was surprise him with some coffee. It was going to be a long day, there was a huge party being hosted by Marcel. All of the factions were gathering for a masquerade ball, the first of its kind in centuries. There were rumors of a peace treaty in the works, and the festivities were the opening salvo.

You were beyond excited, you never experienced this sort of thing, and you were so happy that Elijah would be by your side. You picked out a matching set of masks for the two of you. For him, a sleek, black one with dark feathers at the tips. For yourself, a delicate, lace one in a deep crimson.

When you were younger, you had dreams of wearing beautiful, elaborate gowns, and dancing the night away with a handsome man. You couldn't help but feel giddy thinking about tonight.

You set the coffees down on a nearby table. Elijah's room was dim, only a small shaft of light peeking out from behind the curtains. He was curled up in the center of his large bed, his hair was disheveled and his lips were parted. The sheet was pooled around his hips, revealing his chiseled chest and toned arms.

He was beautiful, and you very much wanted to explore every bit of him. But he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow himself to lose control. He had told you about his darkness, the red door, the place where he put all of the sins he couldn't live with.

When his control was frayed and his mind was weak, it would whisper to him, tempt him. Because there, in that space, he didn't have to feel guilt or pain. He was free. Free to do as he wished. He would be able to take you, claim you, love you the way his darker instincts screamed at him to.

You pulled off your sweater and boots, leaving you in just a mini dress and socks. You padded over to the bed and carefully slid under the covers, trying not to disturb him. You cuddled up next to him, your hand resting on his chest. You wished he would let you in, let you experience all of him, the good, the bad, the ugly. You loved him, and that meant loving everything about him.

Elijah had sensed your presence from the moment you entered his room, but he remained still, feigning sleep. His sweet little love, so utterly defenseless and vulnerable, alone in a vampire's bed. His fingers itched to touch you, to pull you into his embrace and never let you go. He could hear your heartbeat, steady and strong, could smell the sweet perfume you had dabbed behind your ears, and could feel the heat radiating off of your body. He was acutely aware of every aspect of you. It was hard not to give in to temptation, to pull you into his arms and kiss you until your lips were swollen and pink.

"Elijah," you said softly, in a sing-song voice. You brushed your fingers along his jaw, the stubble rough against your soft skin. He stirred slightly, pretending to wake.

"Hmm, good morning, love." He rasped, his voice heavy with sleep.

You kissed him softly, smiling into it. "Good morning. I brought us coffee."

He hummed, "That's perfect. Thank you, sweetheart."

"I can't wait for tonight." You sighed, tracing your fingers down his throat and along his collar bones.

Elijah was torn between letting his eyes flutter shut at the contact or watching your movements. You had him entranced.

"I can't either," he agreed. "You'll be the most beautiful woman there, I have no doubt."

You blushed at his compliment and kissed him again, your lips lingering against his. He groaned and rolled onto his side, bringing his hands up to cup your face, his thumbs stroking along your cheekbones. He let himself give in just a little, let the control slip a fraction. You gasped into the kiss as his tongue swept along the seam of your lips. Your lips parted, allowing him entry. You melted against him, your hand coming up to rest on his bicep.

His hands slid down your body, mapping every dip and curve, memorizing the feel of you. Your skin was like silk, your body supple and soft. You had a slight tremor, nervous, or maybe excited. He wasn't sure, but he loved how your breath hitched as he moved his hands lower and lower, until his palms were flat on your backside, his fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him.

You hummed, a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan. He drank it in, taking all of your little sounds and storing them in his memory. He rolled, pulling you with him so that you were under him. You moaned as he settled between your thighs, his weight a welcome comfort. He moved his mouth down, nipping at the skin of your throat and collarbone, careful not to let his fangs break the surface.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling gently. You had fantasized about being with him in this way for so long, dreamed about how his body would feel pressed against yours, how his hands would feel on your bare skin. You didn't know what caused this shift in him, this sudden willingness to be intimate, but you were glad for it.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, trying to tell him what you wanted. You were not a shy person, you wanted to experience what it was like to be with such a powerful creature, to feel his strength and passion.

Elijah groaned and rocked his hips against yours, letting you feel how much he desired you. His control was slipping, and he didn't care. You wanted him, and he would have you. He leaned back to look at your beautiful face, wanting to etch this moment in his memory for all eternity. You were a vision, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with want.

Suddenly everything started to warp, your flushed skin turned cold, your warm eyes grew distant, and your heart slowed to a stop. His breath caught as a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of your mouth. He looked down at his hands and they were covered in your blood, the dark, rich liquid soaking the sheets and staining his skin.

"No, no, no, no, no." He chanted, trying to bring you back, willing the darkness to recede.

Your eyes were glassy, lifeless, bite marks all over your neck, your chest, your legs. You were covered in them, the evidence of his weakness, his inability to keep his desires in check.

Elijah threw himself from the bed, stumbling backwards. He clutched his head in his hands, a scream ripping from his throat. You were gone, dead, and it was his fault. He would never be able to look at your smiling face, never hear your soft laugh, or feel your lips on his again.

"Eli?" you said, stunned by his sudden departure. He was now across the room looking like a caged animal, his eyes wild and his hair a mess. You climbed out of the bed and slowly approached him. He looked like he was going to bolt, his muscles tense and his breath ragged.

"Are you alright?" you asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Don't!" he shouted, flinching away from your touch. "Don't touch me."

"Okay," you said, holding up your hands. "I won't."

He felt like he was losing his grip, the world was shifting around him, the ground threatening to give out beneath his feet. He felt like he was back there, back in that slaughterhouse that haunted him, the place that whispered his darkest desires, the place that taunted him with visions of what he truly was, no matter how much control he thought he had over it.

You reached out to him again, and he snapped. He grabbed your arm and pushed you against the wall, his eyes black and his fangs sharp. You gasped, but didn't struggle, trusting that he would never hurt you.

He released you at once, horrified by what he had done. He backed away, shaking his head. "No, no, no. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He sank to his knees, his eyes wild and frantic.

"It's okay, Eli." You said, kneeling in front of him.

"You need to leave, please." He begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere." You said firmly, reaching out to touch him again. He tensed, his breath hitching as you made contact.

"LEAVE," he roared, his eyes flashing. You jerked your hand back, surprised by his outburst.

Elijah regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, he watched you run out of the room and all he wanted was to chase after you, but his pride and fear kept him rooted in place. He couldn't let you be around him, look at what he did? If he couldn't control himself in a moment of passion, what would happen if he really let go?

Elijah stood in front of his mirror, adjusting and readjusting his tie. His hair was combed and his suit was tailored perfectly. But none of it felt right, the buttons on his shirt were too tight, the cufflinks too heavy, the material of his suit too coarse. He needed it all to go away.

He felt like a monster. A monster wearing a man's skin.

Elijah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could get through this night. He didn't know if you were coming to the party, and he couldn't decide if he wanted you there or not. He hated the idea of you being away from him, but he also couldn't bear the thought of you seeing him like this, a man unraveling, barely keeping himself together.

He opened his eyes and forced himself to smile, but the sight was a mockery. His lips were pulled taut, and his teeth looked like daggers. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear down the entire city and start anew.

"Elijah! we are going to be late!" He heard Rebekah yell from the courtyard below.

"Be right there," he called, his voice hoarse. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before he walked out of the room and descended the stairs. He could see his siblings all gathered, dressed impeccably with their dates on their arms.

Klaus was talking with Camille, they were dressed in matching shades of blue. Freya and Keelin were standing close together, their hands entwined. Kol was whispering something in Davina's ear, making her laugh. Rebekah was on the phone with Marcel, telling him she was on her way. And Hayley was chatting with Jackson, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

"There you are." Freya said, noticing his presence. "Where is y/n? She was so excited about tonight."

The sound of your name made his chest ache, he was about to explain, or rather, come up with a plausible excuse when he heard a voice from behind him.

"I'm right here."

He turned around to see you walking down the stairs, dressed in an ornate black gown, matching his suit, your mask hanging in your hand.

"Y/n," he said, stunned by how beautiful you were.

You smiled slightly and approached him, your heels clicking on the stones. He took your hand, inspecting your arm. It was bruised and there were small scratches from where he had dug his nails into your skin. He brushed his fingers over the marks, regret and guilt filling him.

"It's fine," you said, squeezing his hand.

"No, it's not."

You leaned in and kissed him softly, the feeling of your lips on his caused him to relax a little. He kissed you back, the contact grounding him, reminding him why he needed to stay in control, for you.

"Let's go," Klaus said, gesturing for everyone to follow him out the door.

You took your mask and placed it on, the crimson filigree complimenting the dark silk of your gown. Elijah put on his mask, the bold design making his dark eyes stand out.

The group arrived at Marcel's penthouse, finding the place already crowded. People were drinking, dancing, and mingling. It was a lively atmosphere, filled with music and laughter.

"It's nice," you commented, holding Elijah's hand.

"It is," he agreed, looking around the room. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the dance floor and you nodded, taking his offered arm. He led you to the center of the room, where couples were already twirling and spinning.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

"You may," you answered, giving him a shy smile.

He took your hand and placed his other on your hip, guiding you through the steps. The two of you swayed to the music, moving gracefully.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him.

He wanted to argue, but you didn't give him a chance. You captured his lips in a kiss, the world around you melting away. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The two of you stayed locked in the embrace, the music and the crowd fading into the background.

The two of you danced for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another. The environment letting him relax a little. But when the music changed, becoming slow and sultry, his mind started to drift.

Elijah imagined pushing you against a wall, kissing your neck and leaving marks. He wanted to rip your dress off, and explore every inch of you. He wanted to bite you, to taste your blood. He wanted to claim you, to make you his.

He wanted to let go, to allow himself to give in. To experience the kind of pleasure and power that only came with a lack of control. But then he saw the blood again, the crimson of your mask, the ruby red of your lipstick, turned to the viscous liquid that both haunted and nourished him.

"What is it?" you asked, noticing the way his body tensed.

"Nothing," he said, his voice strained. "I just need a drink,"

He let go of you and headed to the bar, needing some strong alcohol to help calm his nerves. He ordered a scotch and downed it in one go, the liquid burning his throat. He ordered another, and another, until the world was pleasantly fuzzy and his thoughts were quiet.

"Mr. Mikaelson, so good to see you," a woman said, coming up to him.

"Madam," he replied, not looking up from his drink.

"How is business?" she asked, clearly wanting to engage in a conversation.

"Fine." He said shortly, hoping she would get the hint.

"The party is wonderful," she commented, sipping from a champagne flute, her mask was turquoise and silver, a few strands of her dark hair escaping her updo.

"Thank you, the decorations were my sister's doing," he replied, trying to be polite.

"Ah yes, your sister," the woman said, her eyes drifting over the crowd, landing on the blonde vampire. "She's almost as pretty as you," the woman added, a seductive smile on her lips.

"You're quite flattering, but I'm spoken for," Elijah told her, not unkindly.

The woman pouted. "So I heard, a human though? That must be...difficult," she said.

"How so?" He asked, not liking the direction the conversation was going.

"Humans are frail, their lives are fleeting," the woman replied, her hand coming to rest on his chest. He looked down at her hand touching him, her daylight ring a large sapphire. "And they are so easily broken," she added.

He clenched his jaw, trying not to let her words get to him. "That is why they are treasured," he replied, scanning the crowd in search for you.

"They are food. I thought an original vampire would know the difference," the woman grinned, enjoying getting a reaction out of him.

"Watch your tongue, Madam, or you might find it missing," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, feisty," the woman purred, her free hand went up and she ran her finger over the edge of his mask. "You could have any creature here, take them however you want. Break them in the best possible way," she purred, her pupils dilated.

"That's not how I operate, now if you will excuse me," he said, his anger starting to bubble.

"That's how you used to operate," the woman taunted, her fingers trailing over the buttons of his jacket. "I'm a little hurt that you don't recognize me," the woman pouted, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Should I?" He asked, trying to place her face.

"Paris, summer of 1783, you had me by the hair, bent over the side of a balcony, fucking me so hard that the cement cracked," she told him, licking her lips. "You were wild, rough, animalistic. And it was amazing," she breathed, her gaze unfocused as she remembered the night.

Elijah couldn't remember her, nor did he remember the event. It was amusing to him that this vampire thought she was special. She wasn't. He had bedded hundreds, maybe even thousands, of women. He only ever remembered the ones he loved.

"A shame you can't recall, I've thought about it many times over the years," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "That's a bit pathetic," he said bluntly.

She laughed, not taking offense. "Perhaps, but the sex was fantastic, I can still feel your bite," she smiled, her eyes falling to his mouth.

Elijah shook his head. "My dear, I'm sure there are plenty of willing participants here, if you truly wish to relive the past, you'll have no trouble finding someone to assist," he said dismissively.

"I would prefer you," the woman said, her tone changing. "No one here matches your power, no one can fuck me like you did."

"Maybe try Niklaus, ask him to bite you," he smirked, watching as his brother and Camille were laughing together.

"Both of you dating humans, what a complete and utter waste," she said, her eyes flicking to you. "I bet I could make you forget all about her," she cooed, pressing herself closer to him.

You could see this vampire all over Elijah, touching him and speaking in his ear. You weaved through the crowd, wanting to put an end to it.

Elijah's attention turned from the woman, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you walking towards him.

"I'm going to have to politely decline, thank you." he said, reaching his hand out for yours.

"Come now, surely you could use some relief," the woman cooed, her hands trailing over his body, ignoring your presence completely.

You didn't quite know what came over you, but you reached up and gently slapped her hand away from him.

The vampire turned her attention to you, her eyes going to the bruising on your arm. She let out a laugh. "Oh my, perhaps I was wrong, looks like your little plaything can handle you," the woman mocked, a smirk on her lips.

"Don't," Elijah growled, not appreciating her words.

She just laughed and shrugged, turning her attention back to him. "If you change your mind, I'll be here all night." the vampire winked at him and walked away, joining another group.

Elijah let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You gave Elijah a half-smile, hoping he wouldn't think you were stupid for hitting the vampire. She could have so easily crushed you, but you weren't afraid of her.

"Who was that?" you asked, annoyed by the exchange.

He shook his head. "An old lover, it seems," he told you, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Oh," was all you said, sadness filling you. You weren't the overly jealous type, but knowing that vampire had Elijah in a way you hadn't made you envious and sad.

Elijah saw the change in your demeanor and realized he had not answered the question right. You misunderstood him.

"Not a recent lover," he explained. "It was a very long time ago, and I do not remember the night," he assured you, his hand cupping your cheek.

You sighed, his touch instantly easing the tension in your body.

He pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. "That was very brave of you, that could have ended very badly" he said softly in your ear.

Your hands went to his shoulders, clinging to his jacket, the material warm from his body. "You make me feel brave, you make me feel safe," you murmured.

His heart constricted. He didn't deserve your faith or your trust. The bruise on your arm was proof enough of that. He should let you go, make you hate him and walk away from you before you get hurt anymore, but he couldn't. Not while you were looking up at him with all that trust and affection in your eyes. He loved you far too much to give up.

He leaned in and kissed you, the familiar spark of electricity passing between you. He deepened the kiss, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He was pouring everything he felt for you into it, hoping you could feel the depths of his love and devotion.

You returned the kiss, trying to convey all the things you couldn't say. You broke apart, panting slightly. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

"Eli, I was hoping that we could...," you trailed off, biting your lip.

"What?" he asked, his eyes fluttering open.

"I want us to...you know," you whispered.

His eyes darkened, hunger and need filled him. All of the work he had done to push away his urges, to protect you, had unraveled in an instant. Now all he could focus on was the vision of your body beneath his, the feeling of skin against skin. The blood flowing through your veins singing a song to him that he could not deny, at least, not completely.

He pulled you a little closer, swaying you to the music playing, his other hand gripping your hip possessively. You watched his pupils dilate, saw the tension in his jaw and the bob of his Adam's apple.

"Not tonight," he murmured, trying his hardest to hide how much he wanted you, how much it would hurt to reject you again.

Your fingers curled around the lapels of his suit jacket, tugging on it a little harder than you meant to. He never wanted to give in, to allow himself a taste of pleasure. Even with his walls down, Elijah could never truly give himself to you completely.

His hands went to yours, prying your fingers from his jacket, his eyes dark and dangerous. "You do not understand how difficult it is," he hissed.

You pulled against his grip, anger bubbling up. "So, help me understand," you said in a soft tone, ignoring the fact that you were arguing in a room full of people and that you were both gripping each other hard enough to bruise.

"It feels like..." you started, shaking your head a little, "like, I am not enough. Do you not want me? Or have you realized that you need more and I cannot provide that to you?" You finished in a small voice.

His grip on your hands tightened, a warning look flashing in his eyes. "You are more than enough," he whispered, his eyes softening.

You took a steadying breath. "Then. Please. Fuck. Me," you said bluntly.

Elijah let go of you as if you had burned him. Your words cut him deeply.

You let out a frustrated sigh, his rejection stinging. "I... I'm going to go home," you said, blinking back tears.

He went to grab you but you moved out of his reach, his fingers barely grazing your arm. He watched you leave, his eyes following your figure until it disappeared into the crowd.

It was in that moment that he knew he had to make a decision, either he could keep trying to be gentle with you and risk losing you or he could give in and have you completely, but at the cost of hurting you.

Elijah drained his drink and placed the empty glass on the bar, his mind made up. He followed you, moving so fast that no one saw him leave.

You were upset, your feelings a tangled mess, waiting in a quiet hallway for the elevator to arrive. Your eyes were glazed with tears, your breathing shaky. You didn't know what to do, and you didn't know what you wanted from him.

You were lost in thought when the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, but before the doors opened, hands were on your waist and you were pressed against the wall. His lips were on yours, hungry and demanding. You gasped and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You melted into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair. His hands were on your thighs, lifting you up and pushing your dress higher.

You wrapped your legs around him, pressing your body against his. The heat between you erupting, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.

He broke the kiss, his mouth going to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. His hands were on your hips, pulling your body closer. He was rough and urgent, his nails digging into your skin. You gasped, arching into him, needing to feel more.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky. "I will," he promised, his lips ghosting over yours.

You clung to him, giving yourself over to the moment. He lifted you off the ground and carried you to the elevator. The doors slid open and he stepped inside, pressing you against the wall. His hands were all over your body, touching and teasing.

You were so caught up in his touch that you didn't notice the doors closing, trapping the two of you alone. He punched the panel, making the elevator come to a jerking stop. He kissed you, his hands finding their way under your dress, pushing the fabric out of the way.

He gripped your hips, grinding against you. The intensity and desperation in his touch was new, making your head spin. You wanted more, needed more. You moaned, the sound echoing off the walls. He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

He pushed your panties aside, sliding a finger into your wet heat. You gasped, arching into him. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curling it inside of you. He added a second finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

He groaned, the feeling of you tightening around him almost too much, his lips brushing your ear. "I want to hear you say my name when I make you come," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin.

All you could do was nod, your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, it was all happening so fast and you couldn't get enough of it. He pressed his lips to your neck, nipping at your skin. He added a third finger, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit.

Your eyebrows arched, locking eyes with him, your mouth open and your hands clutching his jacket. The pressure was building and you felt like you were going to explode. You gasped, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"Elijah," you said his name breathlessly.

"That's it," he encouraged, pulling on your earlobe with his teeth. "Say my name," he ordered.

"Elijah," you moaned, the pressure coiling tighter.

"Again," he demanded, his hand speeding up.

"Elijah," his name fell from your lips, your release crashing through you.

Your eyes slammed shut, your head thrown back, the muscles in your neck straining. You were trembling, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. He slowly withdrew his fingers, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. You could feel his fangs graze your skin.

He was so hard, you could feel his erection pressing against you. You shifted your weight, trying to gain some friction, but he pulled away, his hands on your hips, pinning you in place.

You opened your eyes, looking at his face, his eyes completely black, the veins under them moving, his mouth open slightly, showing his fangs. You felt fear, but not the type of fear that made you want to run, but the kind of fear that sent a thrill through your body, the kind that made you crave danger.

You lightly traced your fingers over the veins, a smile on your lips. His chest rising and falling rapidly. You ran your finger over his lower lip, and he leaned in, his fangs scraping the pad of your finger. You could feel the sharp tips. He was so dangerous, so lethal, a perfect predator, yet here you were, trapped and wanting nothing more than to have him consume you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He pressed his body against yours, his erection grinding against you. You moaned, reaching between you, your fingers deftly working the button and zipper of his trousers. You tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing free. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him.

"Fuck," he growled, his hips bucking, seeking more of your touch.

You tightened your grip, stroking him faster, twisting your wrist a little. He groaned, his hands on your thighs, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted slightly.

You released him and wrapped your arms back around his neck, grinding yourself against him. He growled, his hands cupping your ass, lifting you. You used the wall for support and wrapped your legs around him, angling yourself just right. You cried out as he pressed inside, stretching and filling you.

His breath was hot against your neck. "That's my girl," he said softly.

He paused a moment, giving you time to adjust. Then he started to thrust, his rhythm slow and measured, watching the way your expression changed as he fucked you. You moaned, your legs tightening around him, your ankles locking together, trying to pull him closer.

He pumped his hips, burying himself deep inside you. You tilted your head back, exposing the soft flesh of your neck.

It took every bit of control he had not to give in and bite you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling your blood pump just below the surface of your skin. His hips snapped harder, driving into you, focused on fucking you, on drawing more delicious moans and whimpers from sweet lips.

The coil within you grew tighter, the pressure increasing with every movement of his hips. You clung to his jacket, needing something to anchor you, feeling as if you were spinning out of control. He grunted with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin almost drowned out by the blood pumping furiously in your ears.

His eyes never left yours, a predatory look crossing his features, his fingers gripping the swell of your ass, pounding into you with incredible force, your head hitting the wall with each powerful thrust.

It was intense and consuming and you couldn't get enough of him, and neither could he.

You lost track of how many times you'd come, all you knew was the sweet, aching tension was building again and you didn't know if you could handle another. He held you so tight, your body pressed so close to his, his fangs threatening to pierce the delicate skin of your neck. You couldn't stop, you didn't want it to stop.

Then his rhythm faltered, his breathing becoming labored, his hips pumping furiously. He needed a release. It had been a while since he'd experienced such raw, carnal lust.

He could no longer keep himself from drinking from you, he'd waited too long, denied his primal urges. With a snarl, he sunk his fangs into the side of your neck. A guttural cry fell from your lips, your back arching as you came undone, the sudden pain mixed with the pleasure so intense, you felt your vision darkening as you blacked out.

Elijah gripped your thighs, his lips pulling blood from your body, sending your pulse racing, your blood so hot and sweet that he thought he would combust. He let himself go, cumming deep inside of you, your blood in his mouth, the sweetness coating his tongue and rushing into his system. Your body went limp in his arms, your heartbeat slowing.

Sudden panic consumed him, what had he done? The guilt and fear crashed over him in waves. You looked so pale, you were dying in his arms and it was his fault. The rage and self-hatred he had tried so hard to keep in check ripped through him, his true nature unleashed.

But then you opened your eyes, smiling at him dreamily and something inside of him snapped back into place.

Elijah chuckled, still inside of you. He grinned, the edges of his lips curving upwards. He kissed you softly, reverently.

"Holy fuck Elijah," you chuckled, panting slightly, your heart beating erratically, but you felt alive and amazing, and loved.

"You scared me for a moment," he confessed, resting his forehead against yours.

"That was.. You are..," you struggled for words. "Just wow," you laughed.

You held on to him, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped an arm around you, supporting you, the other stroking the side of your head. You breathed him in, savoring the moment, never wanting it to end. He smiled, nuzzling your cheek, his nose rubbing against your skin.

"Let's go home, I want you all to myself," you murmured, kissing his neck, the taste of him filling you.

He chuckled, his voice a deep rumble. "As you wish."

"We have a lot of catching up to do," you grinned, thinking of all the things you were going to do to him.

Elijah chuckled. "My sweet girl," he murmured, kissing you gently.

The elevator rattled, the emergency lights coming on. Elijah pulled away from you, adjusting your dress, smoothing the fabric. He zipped and buttoned his trousers, straightening his clothes. The panel was broken, slight electrical sparks coming from the metal. Elijah gripped the doors, forcing them open. He stepped out and helped you down. You smoothed your dress, looking at him shyly. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, leading you out of the building.

"I like it when you lose control, perhaps that was the solution all along," you teased, walking along the street, your fingers intertwined with his.

Elijah laughed. "Perhaps, my darling, you may be right."

And with that, he swept you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out into the night.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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ma1dmer · 3 months ago

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hello, you can call me billy (18+)

welcome to my mind palace, i sometimes share headcanons about books, shows, games, movies, ttrpgs etc and sometimes i write about my own and my friends' original characters, stay and chat or request something! tag:(.writing , .oc talk , .love notes)

this is an 18+ blog sometimes with triggering or problematic media

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porcelainseashore · 6 months ago

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Into the Ether - Series Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 ... more to be added!

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon x Fem! Reader

RE ensemble: Chris Redfield, Claire Redfield, Ada Wong, Albert Wesker, Jill Valentine, Sherry Birkin, Ingrid Hunnigan, Rebecca Chambers, Baker Family, Merchant, Patrick (Infinite Darkness), Luis Serra, Glenn Arias, Kevin Ryman, Karl Heisenberg

VtM concepts: Camarilla, Anarch, Sabbat, Second Inquisition, Toreador, Ventrue, Brujah, Gangrel, Nosferatu, Malkavian, Tremere, Ghouls

navigation 🧭 | leon's masterlist 🔮 | ao3 💖

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navybrat817 · 4 months ago

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Bucky Barnes Masterlist - 2

Welcome to my 2nd Bucky Barnes Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Here you will find some of my darker fics. These may include triggers such as noncon, dubcon, violence, dark themes, etc. Please heed the warnings. Header and banner by @sgt-seabass and dividers by @firefly-graphics. Check them out!

Main Masterlist | 1st Bucky Barnes Masterlist

I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.

🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy's faves

Mini-Series and Universes

Soldat and Sparrow Universe (Ongoing)

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you’ll be free. Both of you.

Winter and Fire 🔥💙

Summary: You didn’t choose to be with Hydra. Neither did the Winter Soldier.

War and Peace 🔥

Summary: Your first mission together brings inner war...peace.

Soldat and Sparrow

Summary: No one touches his Sparrow.

Night and Day 🔥

Summary: Will you be another one of the Soldat’s lost memories?

Dark and Light

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Black and White

Moon and Sun

Past and Future

The Pakhan and the Printsessa - Mob Newlyweds Universe (Ongoing) 💞

You’re married to Bucky Barnes, one of the most powerful men in the world. And all he wants is you.

Harmonious 🔥

Summary: You may think you’re a pawn in Bucky’s life, but you are his queen.

Hollow 🔥

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Husband and Wife 🔥💙

Summary: Bucky has to have you before you get to your wedding reception.

Honeymoon Suite 🔥

Summary: Bucky takes a call during your honeymoon, but you should know that you always come first.

Home Again 🔥

Summary: Your husband opens up to you about his past as you fall more in love.

Honesty and Lies

Honor and Obey

Hope, Faith and Love

Vampire Mob AU (Ongoing)

Power and money mean nothing to the powerful vampire ruler if you’re aren’t by his side.

Around Your Throat 🔥

Summary: Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat.

Lay Me Down 🔥💙

Summary: You look to the past and future on your last night as a human.

Disturbia - Dark Suburbia AU

You have a beautiful home and a loving partner. So, why does it feel like something is wrong with your neighborhood?

A Plum a Day 🔥🛑

Summary: You wake up beside Bucky, but you don't know how you got there.

Winter and Kisa - Mob AU 💞

The mobster doesn't care that you're an agent. He wants you to be his.

Give Me a Name

Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go.

Almost Like Home

Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.

Dark Club AU (Tagged as Turn It Up AU)

Hold You Tight 🔥🛑💞

There's Something in the Water - Coming Soon

One Shots and Imagines (over 1k) *Some fics may get additional parts

Run Like Hell 🔥🛑

Summary: You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though…and you’re not getting away from him that easily.

First and Last 🔥🛑 💞 (a/b/o)💙

Summary: Masquerading as Beta was an easy choice. Too bad Bucky Barnes had other plans for you.

You’re My Obsession 🔥🛑💙

Summary: You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve.

Best Man 🛑

Summary: Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier.

Remind Me 🔥💙

Summary: The apocalyptic world is crumbling around you and you need a reminder of who you belong to.

Push and Pull (features Nick Fowler x Reader)🔥🛑💙💞 (Club)

Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.

Prized Possession 🔥🛑 💞 (Librarian)

Summary: You’re Bucky’s rare treasure, his most prized possession.

A Debt to Pay 🔥💙💞 (Mob)

Summary: Bucky isn’t a man to be crossed.

What Goes Around 🔥💙 💞 (DBF/BFD)

Summary: Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't.

Send Me an Angel 🔥🛑 💞 (Bartender)

Summary: Bucky thinks you’re an angel.

Follow You Home (Stalker)

Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop.

Two Sides of the Same Coin🔥 (Bucky and the Winter Soldier)

Summary: A night of passion awakens something beneath the surface of the man you love.

What Happens in Vegas 🔥🛑 💞 (Fae)

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas.

Within You 🔥🛑

Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze.

Ficlets (under 1k)

Read Between the Lines ~ (threat not by Bucky)

Summary: Things are left unsaid with Bucky during your recent mission.

Loyalty 🔥 (features Dark!Andy Barber x Reader)

Summary: Loyalty is something you’ve learned to both loathe and appreciate.

Collateral Damage 🔥🛑

Summary: You pay the price when the Avengers try to undo the snap.

Long Night

Summary: Bucky is waiting for you when you come back from a night out.

A Hero’s Reward 🔥 🛑

Summary: Bucky is a hero and every hero deserves a reward.

100 Word Drabbles

Secret Admirer Secret Admirer - Part 2 Secret Admirer - Part 3 Secret Admirer - Part 4 Forced Bond 🔥🛑 Last Call 🔥🛑 His Sparrow 🔥🛑 Stalked

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #soft!dark bucky barnes #soft!dark bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader

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kitten4sannie · 9 months ago

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ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ

ᴏᴍᴇɢᴀᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ/ᴏʀɢᴀꜱᴍ ᴅᴇɴɪᴀʟ ➠ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

pairing: vampire lord! seonghwa x human! reader (fem) feat. a two second cameo from vampire! san

genre: abo, kinda historical (think guilded era vibe but vampires and humans coexisting kinda), smut

summary: you decide to play with your master’s feelings during the annual masquerade ball held between vampires and occasionally their human counterparts.

w.c: 2.5k

warnings: alcohol usage, mentions of blood, general vampirism/hierarchies, dom! seonghwa, bratty! reader fucks around and finds out, dirty talk, ownership kink, exhibitionism/voyeurism, praise/degradation, possessiveness, pet names/name calling, manhandling, blood drinking, groping, rough blowjob, spit mentions, fingering, orgasm denial, facial, cum eating, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, l bombs

a/n: im obsessed with the idea of criminally insane cunty vampires so i sat hunched over like a damn shrimp and typed up a storm tyvm. also !!! this fic is dedicated to my dear friend orion @pluvialorion ilysmmmm ughh i hope you enjoy >< <33

Now Playing:

ʙɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ʙʏ ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

“Those two are always up to something, I swear. It’s so troublesome,” one old age vampire muttered, complaining about you and your vampire Master to the person standing besides her outside of the ballroom circle. She adjusted her masquerade mask, put off by the sight of you downing a glass full of expensive wine. “Why the council ever decided to allow humans to attend our annual blood balls is beyond me.”

“They always cause a scene,” the other old age vampire agreed, turning his head to watch as you whimsically made your way across the dance floor in your heavy laced dress, taking the hand of any vampire that wanted to dance with you, while your Master watched from the side with growing annoyance. “It’s unsightly.”

“Yes, it’s completely inappropriate, the way they act like they’re the main characters inside some overdone fictional novel,” she scoffed, the vampiress getting herself worked up over nothing, her fingers clenching around her own wine glass filled with a blood blend.

“You hit the nail on the head, or should I say the stake,” the undead gentleman chuckled, one hand on his hip, the other tilting his wine glass back to drink down its bloody contents, watching you trade one dance partner for another, surprised that you were letting a new age vampire get so handsy with you. “Oh, here we go.”

Seonghwa reached up to brush at his flowy raven hair in a frustrated manner, his furrowed brows and scrunched-up face not doing much to dispel your current goal in pissing off your Master in hopes that he would chase you across the castle grounds and fuck you into oblivion. “You’re asking for it, little lamb…” he mumbled to himself, the bright red hue in his eyes growing brighter by the second.

“I didn’t realize you were interested in me, Miss Y/N. Care to forget about your sour, old age counterpart over there and spend the night with me?” the charming, feline-like vampire you were using whispered into your ear, holding your body impossibly close to his as you both slowly rotated together in timed circles according to the flow of the orchestra music that was playing throughout the large ballroom.

“Oh, Mr. Choi, try not to puff out your chest just yet,” you murmured back with faux pity, clasping your fingers around his cheeks, feeling his fingers inch closer and closer to your ass, able to feel the fiery gaze of your lover from afar. “You’re simply a puppet for my amusement.”

The vampire scoffed, still finding it inside himself to twirl you around and bring you back into his arms, his fingers clasping around your waist a little tighter than before, clearly irritated. “That’s quite rude of you, human. You could’ve lied.”

“Does it matter? I’m not trying to impress you,” you huffed, eyeing Seonghwa out of the corner of your vision, noticing the way he clutched the edge of the aged mahogany table being used to showcase various blood-filled desserts. Just as the vampire was about to speak up, you shook your head, silencing him. “Just hurry up and grab my ass, will you? And grab it hard. I want Seonghwa to–Oh!”

The peeved vampire did indeed get a handful, his fingers sinking deep into your squishy flesh through your dress, leaning over your shoulder to make eye contact with Seonghwa, who was fuming, still having the gall to stick his tongue out at him.

An intoxicating mix of anger and arousal coursed through Seonghwa to the point that it all spilled out of him at once, resulting in a short, aggressive shout, the other patrons looking over their own shoulders to see what was going on. Sadly, they weren’t very surprised to watch him lift up the side of the heavy dessert table and toss it across the room with a frightening amount of ease, narrowly missing the heads of the orchestra members.

You let go of San who quickly scampered away, not wanting to feel the vampire lord’s intense wrath. You, however, took pride in seeing the way your lover was seething, how he pierced you with his dark crimson eyes and delightfully suffocating pheromones alone, his white, elongated fangs already on display for you, knowing he wished he could just sink them directly into the most delicate parts of your body.

“Why are you so angry, my love?” you called out to him with faux naivety, giving him a pout, motioning to the mess that had spilled onto the sheer marble floor. “You ruined all those lovely desserts.”

“And almost took the head off of a violin player, but I digress,” the older vampire from before murmured to her friend, the both of them chortling softly to themselves.

“Oh, you know what you’ve done, darling,” Seonghwa tsked from across the room, taking slow, deliberate steps in your direction, his high-heeled shoes clacking lightly against the pristine floor, most of the other patrons stepping out of his way. “I have a question for you. Do you know what happens to pretty things that disobey their Masters?”

You brought your hand up to lift off your masquerade mask just in time for Seonghwa to stand directly in front of you, his lean, elegant frame towering over yours. “I’m unaware of the answer, dearest. Do pray tell.” Your face twisted into something that could only be described as smug. Seonghwa wanted to wipe that expression off your face and turn it into something more worthwhile — flushed, contorted with a lovely mix of pain and pleasure, and painted in his cum.

“They get punished, my sweet. So, I suggest you hike up that lovely dress I bought you and get to running.”

࿏࿏࿏

There was something so exhilarating about having the love of your life chase after you, knocking over furniture and pushing other vampires out of the way just to get his hands on you. You would look back occasionally, catching glimpses of the hazy blood-lust in Seonghwa’s eyes, resulting in a fresh wave of slick between your thighs.

Somewhere along the line, you had ended up in the castle garden, your bare feet hitting the soft grass, having lost your heels during your chaotic trek there. Panting softly, your breath hitting the cold night air, you realized you were surrounded by chipping marble statues of vampires of the past, a maze of blood-red roses covered in thorns surrounding a sleek stone gazebo, and thousands of constellations sitting in the dark sky above you.

“Caught you, little lamb…” you heard in a deep, gravelly voice, shivers making their way up your spine. Seonghwa took slow steps near you, finding it amusing how you trapped yourself in a corner, his entire being pulsing with sexually-charged aggression. “But you wanted this, didn’t you? You want me to have my way with you, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Rather than replying verbally, you simply held up the front of your dress, showing off your plump, slicked-up cunt for his viewing pleasure, your lips twisted up into a perverted smile, lust practically emanating from your form. “What do you think, my love? Does my wet cunt give you any hints?”

Before you knew it, Seonghwa had you pinned to the side of the gazebo, one hand on your shoulder to keep you still with his immense strength and the other underneath your hiked-up skirt, fucking you deep with two agile fingers, not concerned with the occasional passerby, some of them slowing down to witness the titillating sight of a vampire lord punishing his human counterpart.

“I can feel you squeezing around my fingers, sweet. Is my poor little lamb already falling apart for me?” he asked with faux pity against your neck, sucking your soft flesh into his mouth to leave a mark, piercing them lightly with his fangs. “Is it because anyone can come by and see the way I have my hand up your skirt and hear the pretty little moans that you’re making for your darling?”

“N-ooo, it’s because it’s you, Seonghwa,” you sighed out softly, a familiar heaviness filling your core until your legs went wobbly, moaning from the feeling of Seonghwa gulping down just enough of your life source to make you pleasantly dizzy, his fingers still slipping in and out of your leaking cunt.

“Mm, it’s a pity though. I wish Mr. Choi knew just how quick I can make your pretty cunt leak all these juices onto me,” he purred against your soft skin, slurping your arousal from his fingers before cupping his palm onto your hot cunt, lightly moving it over your clit, knowing he was pleasuring you just enough to make you squirm, but aware that your much-needed orgasm had faded away due to his control.

He brought his still dripping fingers up to your mouth, pleased that you obediently sucked your own slick off of them, his gaze flitting between your lips and love-struck eyes. “He’ll never see you like this. See the way you need me in every possible way I can have you…”

“It’s only for you to see, my love,” you replied lovingly, pressing your lips onto his, drawing Seonghwa into you like a moth to a blazing flame.

You shared a series of frenzied, heated kisses that consisted too much of tongue, teeth, and fangs, your hand slipping into Seonghwa’s loosened satin trousers to swiftly jerk him off, his abundant pre-cum squishing in between your closed fingers, your quick, unrelenting grip causing him to wobble a bit, the thick edges of his heeled shoes sinking further into the grass below. “Feels so good, doesn’t it, Hwa? You’re so hard for me, throbbing, leaking so much…”

“Fuck–I need you, darling, need you bare for me, need your pretty mouth around my cock,”Seonghwa groaned out onto your lips, nipping at it enough to get a small taste of iron on his own crimson stained ones. Without a word, he tore your dress from your body, pearls falling from your broken necklace and landing around your feet. You gasped. He clasped his hands around your corseted waist, bringing his face near your neck, his lips just barely touching your skin. “On your knees, my love.”

You melted to the floor, reaching up to hold onto his hips, watching his cock spring out once his pants lowered past his v-line, eventually holding it in front of your drooling mouth. You studied him, your eyes traveling up his shiny, curved length to his pronounced pink head, sticking your tongue out to catch a drop of his pre-cum on your tongue. “It’s so pretty, Hwa…”

“I know it is, sweetheart. Now, open up,” he exhaled softly, slipping his slender fingers into your soft hair to clutch the sides of your head, plugging your mouth up with his thick cock.

Seonghwa fucked your face so quickly, so sloppily, so desperately, he reached his end in a matter of minutes, bringing you down onto his cock until your nose pressed into his pelvis, feeling your throat contracting around him. “Fuck, you drive me mad, darling…I’m already about to cum….”

It was when he was able to smell the endless slick that dripped out of your needy cunt, that Seonghwa pulled out, rubbing his cockhead across your lips and smearing his pre-cum across your face, ruining the perfect state of your makeup. “You look so pretty, my love, but I know how to make you look even more divine for me…”

“Enlighten me, my dear,” you sighed lovingly, licking the warm saltiness from your lips.

“Watch closely. This is all for you, darling…” Seonghwa gazed down at you with his crimson, hooded eyes, his chest rising and lowering with shallow breaths, using his closed hand to milk his flushed cock, seemingly endless splashes of cum landing onto your face. “Mm, what do you think Mr. Choi would think of you now, little lamb? Think of your lovely face painted with my cum?”

“He’d think I was a mess,” you mused, licking the bitter milkiness from your swollen lips, opening your mouth to take one last spurt of cum onto your tongue when Seonghwa moaned wantonly, his fingers squeezing near the pinkish tip. “He’d know I’m yours.”

“My mess, my beautiful darling. Of course he’d know you’re mine. All mine,” Seonghwa sighed dreamily, lowering himself to his knees to pull you in for a deep kiss, your tongues and lips meeting with fervent need.

“You think he’d enjoy watching you fuck me into ecstasy?” you asked in between heavy breaths and kisses, hooking your thighs around his bare waist, slipping your hands onto the bare skin of his chest past his loose blouse, your fingers grazing his nipples.

“I’d take off his head, before I’d let him watch the way your cunt stretches open for me,” Seonghwa groaned, groping down your body, rubbing two fingers against your slippery folds, his fangs returning to your neck, this time indulging his instincts and slipping inside you, resulting in soft throes of pleasure from the both of you. “Speaking of, your little cunt needs my cock, doesn’t it? Is that why you’re so wet?”

“Yes, please, I can’t stand being empty any longer, my love,” you whined to him, your squelching cunt already beginning to clench around his thrusting fingers, wishing his cock was filling you up instead.

“You won’t be able to cum with just my fingers, will you, darling? Because your lovely body is only accustomed to my cock, isn’t it? Made for it, hm?” Seonghwa continued to tease you with his words, curling his digits inside you, resulting in increasingly heavy moans from his one and only, encouraging him to fuck you faster with them. “Fuck, you’re clenching so hard around me, darling. You’re so good for me…”

“Oh–my god, so close…”

“Yeah? You want to spill your cum all over me, Y/N? Make a mess of me?” Seonghwa encouraged breathily, his forehead pressed to yours, pressing his lips against yours in between moans.

“Y–esss…”

Just as you were about to cum, you were suddenly filled with a devastatingly empty feeling, realizing he had pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, sucking your vast amounts of slick off of them. “N-no, please, Seonghwa, I want to cum…!”

“You’ll have to cum on my cock, sweetheart. Now, be good and take it,” he replied softly, his voice devoid of pity, the ridged edge of his cock hooking onto your clit and making you jolt, before he slipped inside you inch by inch, sending you back into a pleasurable fog. “I’ll breed you until you’re full for me.”

“So full, I’m so full, darling.” You hooked your arms around his neck, holding him impossibly close, his lips already attached to your neck again, shuddering against him as he drank down your life-source, his cock offering your cunt a delicious stretch each time he pounded into you. “So good, Hwa, it feels so good…”

“Because we were made for each other, my love, our souls always intertwined, forever, you’ll always be mine,” Seonghwa reminded you in between pants and soft moans, his raven hair already plastered to his forehead with sweat, love and admiration seeping its way through his lust-struck gaze, kneading his hands into your thighs, your warm, sopping-wet cunt enveloping his cock so tightly, he couldn’t keep himself from unloading wave after wave of his hot cum inside you, so deeply it reached your womb. “Fuck, you’re milking my cock, darling, just take it all, take it all for me…”

You couldn’t say anything, only letting out a near soundless whine, clutching the back of Seonghwa’s head, never breaking eye contact as you experienced what could only be described as pure bliss, your bodies and hearts melting together. “I love you, Seonghwa, so much,” you finally got out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N, more than you’ll ever know,” he replied just as softly, carefully cupping your heated face with his cold hands, like he was afraid you would shatter into a thousand pieces and fall away from his grasp. Seonghwa was completely flushed, his long raven hair now a mess, sticking to his sweaty face, his plush lips a deep red. “Now do you see what you do to me, darling?”

You nuzzled into him, your heart beating against his quiet one, the cool night breeze gracing your warm, joined skin, knowing you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I think I have an idea.”

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 7 months ago

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Dancing With the Devil

A Vampire!Rhys x Reader Fic (because I am a SLUT for him) based on this post.

Content Warnings: Smut and blood, you know, typical vampire things.

___________________________

How you ended up on the dance floor in the middle of the Velaris Estate, being spun in dizzying circles by masked males as stringed instruments swell on a phantom wind, is anybody's guess. You think it might have been Nesta’s idea, but whatever schemes landed you in this dark, shadowy world is lost under the swell of music and rustling of skirts. You’re sure your friend is here somewhere, dancing her heart out, but the bodies clustered around you in a sea of dark lace and velvet make distinguishing anybody hard. She’ll find you by the end of the night, once she’s ditched her shoes and had a little too much to drink, for now, you’ll have to keep yourself entertained in one of the many options the party of the recently returned lord of the estate has to offer.

You don’t know much about Rhysand, other than the rumors that he came from very, very old money and had been away on the Continent while the Vampire Queen Amarantha’s reign of terror had ravaged the courts. He’s something of a local legend, always throwing these extravagant masquerade balls, the doors of this sprawling, gothic estate open until the sun begins to rise in the morning, without ever showing his face. He has to be here somewhere, directing the staff and making sure there’s no mischief happening in the locked rooms on the upper floors, but no one can tell you what he looks like, how old he is, any defining details. Honestly, realizing this was where you’d be spending the evening had been nothing short of a thrill. The war against the vampires had taken your father and left your older brother as heir of the Spring estate, he hadn’t let you out much to explore since.

Gloved hands twirl you around the dance floor again, the candlelight from the iron chandeliers overhead glittering like a thousand stars as you throw your head back and embrace the sheer weightlessness of the dance. It’s exhilarating and freeing, and you find yourself wishing that every night was like this. You’d thrive in this kind of freedom, no locked doors in empty mansions, no guards just to walk you through the gardens, only your wits and your whims dictating where you’ll go next.

The dance requires you to change partners often, so it is no surprise that a different, stronger set of hands settles on your hips as you come out of a spin and move into a more complicated three step. However, the tall stranger, with eyes so blue they’re almost violet beneath a mask shaped like a bat, is far better sight than the last male.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks, and his voice is a lover’s purr, made for the darkness of a bedroom.

“Immensely,” you say as you chase him through the steps, one hand on his firm shoulder, other atop his own against your waist. It is unlike you to keep your hands firmly planted on a male’s body, even while dancing, even with your brother’s watchful eye far away. Better to be cautious than be accused of having wandering hands, but you can make an exception. Forget you have ever done anything else, because the male wears a corset to accentuate every muscle in his lean body, dark shirt beneath left half open to show off a swirl of dark ink on his bronze chest. Every piece of clothing looks like an open invitation to touch. He knows it too, grinning when your hand slides a little lower on his chest.

“You dance beautifully,” he praises, perfect teeth biting at his lower lip as he drinks in the plunging neckline of your gown.

You’re thankful that your own mask hides the blush dusting your cheeks. “So do you.” He moves with inhumane grace, so fluidly you wouldn’t be able to track every step if he wasn’t pulling you along with him.

Three more steps, then a fourth before the music begins to slow and he’s dragging your body closer to his own, large hand sliding over your hip to your lower back.

“Will you dance another with me?” He asks, warm breath fanning your face as he leans in to be heard over the swell of a harp.

You nod eagerly, anything for a chance to have those hands on you a bit longer.

Two dances turn to four, then six, until you’ve lost count entirely, the night slipping away from you. At some point, he asks if you want to stop and get a drink, and you might have said no because this was just too good an opportunity to pass up, but the mischief in his violet eyes make you think better of it. You soon find yourself pulled through the swirling of bodies that hasn’t let up all night, and into a darker corner of the room, where couches and chairs and tables line the walls for people to observe the dancefloor with a little privacy. Quite a few of the couches are occupied with couples embracing in the shelter of the dark, where there are few candles to be observed under.

There’s a couch in the corner, beneath a large window, moonlight streaming over the dark cushions that’s empty and your companion leads you right to it. In your defense, you are expecting to be plied with a little wine before anything happens between the two of you, so you are unprepared for him to slide into the seat and pull you right into his lap!

Heat flares in your cheeks, body awkwardly tangled in your skirts as he pulls your hips forward to get you situated atop his powerful thighs.

“What happened to drinks?” You ask, a little breathless from dancing and trying not to stammer under the brazenness of the display. You’re no blushing virgin, but you’ve certainly never been in this compromising a position in front of an audience before.

He brushes his nose over the column of your throat and places his plush lips against your skin, making all thought eddie from your mind.

“I intend to,” he says into your skin before he nips gently at your sensitive flesh.

Your whole body shivers, eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Rhys,” he says as he kisses his way up your jaw.

Rhys as in…

As if he can read your mind he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin, “Only my enemies call me Rhysand.”

“How did you know that’s what I was going to ask?”

He hums as he scrapes his teeth playfully over your throat. The edges of his mask tickling your skin as it brushes against you, the contrast between his warm breath and the rough fabric sending a thrill down your spine. You should be absolutely mortified that you’re perched in the lord of the estate’s lap, but you can’t find it in you to care, can’t find it in yourself to do anything but settle a little more firmly against his body and let him explore.

“Mind reading is one of my many talents,” he purrs as his gloved hands slide over your hips, skirts bunching up around your thighs as slender fingers need the soft flesh of your ass.

You instinctively rock your hips forward, clothed core scraping over the budding tent in his slacks. The contact makes your head spin, makes you tip your head back a little as he sucks a mark into your throat. You’ll have to wear a scarf tomorrow to hide it from Tamlin.

“And what other talents do you have, M’lord?” You tease, because you’ve never believed in such magic.

“I think I’d rather show you, Darling,” he says, but his mouth doesn’t form the words, they’re an echo inside your head, as if they’re your own thoughts in his voice.

You still your movements in his lap; this is not the magic of witches or mages, not some clever party trick of the traveling magicians that often pass through Prythian. They say only Vampires can possess talents like this.

Rhys grins at you as the realization clicks into place, and whatever glamor had been used to hide his fangs slides out of place, canine’s glinting in the moonlight. You put your hands on his chest, firm, but there’s no heartbeat beneath your palms, intending to push yourself off him before he can sink those fangs into your throat, but his grip on you tightens to the brink of pain. Your bones feel fragile, brittle under his supernatural grip.

“Relax, Darling,” he instructs and a shadow of sheer, undiluted power brushes over your mind, freezing you in place. “I promise this will be pleasant for the both of us.”

“Let go of me!” You squeak, still trying to push yourself free. “Or I’ll start screaming!”

He chuckles, the sound of it skittering over your bones, and the dim candles nearby flicker out, leaving you only visible in the moonlight. A few of the couples nearby cheer excitedly, as if that’s some sort of signal.

“Here’s the thing,” he explains as he brushes his nose against the column of your throat again. When you try to squirm away, he only pulls you closer, lips hungrily tracing the pulse pounding in your neck. “I could go out into the woods, feed on some vagrants nobody cares about, spend my nights hunting for a warm body to take my fill of. But after a thousand years, the chase gets a little boring.”

A thousand years. Rhysand is a thousand year old Vampire?

“Why waste my time and energy, when I can bring a meal right to my doorstep?”

“Please,” you whimper, body trembling. “Please let me go. I won’t tell anybody.”

“I know you won’t,” he says, kissing your throat far more gently than somebody holding this tightly to you should. “That’s why I picked you. I know you want an escape from your life of locked doors.”

You still as he drags his lips along the edge of your jaw until he meets your ear. “Let me show you a way out.”

Your skin is sensitive there, his breath makes you shiver in delight, goosebumps prickling your skin. He can’t possibly know all this just by looking at you, he had to have been rummaging around in your head, probably while you were dancing. It’s an invasion of your privacy, and you should keep fighting for any chance to escape him, but there’s a piece of you that wants this. Tamlin will never give you a way out, the more you beg for your freedom the more doors he locks in your face, and if you go home in the morning, if you let him pick a husband for you, it will never be any different. There will only be more locked doors, only keeping a stranger’s bed warm, his house run, tending boys that will have more freedom than you’ll ever get just because they’re boys. You will be lucky if you’ll get to keep to your books and your sketches, lucky if you get to keep any hobbies at all that don’t include tending a house. You’re trapped in a cage no one can save you from if you don’t take this one key.

His fangs scrape over your earlobe as he nips playfully at it. “It’s an even bargain,” he prompts. “You let me feed, and I’ll show you a world of nothing but open doors, hmm?”

You’re a fool, and you’re pretty sure an agreement will damn your soul forever.

“Will it hurt?”

“Only for a moment.”

A moment’s pain for an opportunity of unbridled freedom. “It’s a bargain,” you say, tipping your head back to fully expose your throat. You shut your eyes though, unable to watch it happen.

“Good girl,” Rhys purrs and there’s a little tingle, like electricity in your fingertips and palm that makes you crack an eye open for a second to look at the black whorls that now cover your fingertips, up your hand and over your wrist. Some sort of permanent bargain mark.

There’s no time to ask about it before Rhys sinks his fangs into your throat. The coppery scent of blood fills your senses, mind spinning to comprehend all that’s happening as pain flairs in the muscles in your neck.

“So sweet,” he purrs into your mind. “Just as I’d hoped.”

He’s not letting up, but the longer it takes, the less pain you feel. The longer his fangs are in your neck, the warmer your body becomes. Your muscles slowly relax, pliant in his iron grip. When he rocks his hips, slowly, testing, you can’t help the groan that escapes you. Even as the last little rational bit of your mind screams in protest, your hips once again work over the bulge in his pants, chasing the heat budding in your core.

When he removes his fangs from your throat, he laves over the wound with his tongue, not letting a single drop of your blood escape. “I’ve fed on a lot of humans,” he whispers, “but none as sweet as you.”

You can’t seem to stop moving, chasing after the pleasure building quicker and quicker as you rut your hips against his. “What’s happening to me?”

When he kisses you, it’s the coppery tang of your own blood on his lips. “Vampire venom is an aphrodisiac. Makes feeding a pleasurable experience for everybody, wouldn’t you agree?”

The scrape of his slacks is delicious, makes you squeeze your eyes shut and move without thinking about how brazen you look, but it’s not enough. You need more. Need him deeper. Need him moving inside you with the same fervor he had when feeding on you.

“Need you,” you whimper and he kisses you again, one hand tangling in your hair, absolutely ruining the updo you’d carefully constructed hours earlier. The other slides under your skirts to find the hem of your underthings and he gives the elastic band a testing pull before he rips it off entirely.

You gasp in surprise into his mouth at the sheer strength of him.

The leather of his gloves is a cool texture against your bare skin as he drags a thumb over you and you rock your hips into his touch, desperately seeking more. He’d been right, this was definitely a more pleasurable experience than you anticipated it being.

Rhys breaks the kiss as he slides a finger inside you, and you throw your head back and moan unabashedly. You don’t truly have the presence of mind to look at the other couples nearby, but judging by the sounds coming from around you, you’re not the only one partaking of this kind of pleasure tonight. The cover of darkness and music shields your activities well enough, but perhaps there are more than a few vampires in Rhys’s court, and they won’t risk their own hunts letting anybody look too close in your direction.

Plush lips move down your jaw again, like he just can’t stay away from your throat. You’re inclined to let him bite you again and again and again just to feel like this for a little while longer. Heat and pleasure builds at the base of your spine, burning white hot through you as he slides a second finger in your wetness, stretching you out.

“All this for me, Darling?” He scrapes his teeth over your skin, not biting but marking you as he searches for the collar of your gown. When he finds it, he starts dragging it away from your body with his teeth, deft fingers untying the laces at your back to let the excess fabric fall.

The cool air against your flushed skin has you whimpering, eyes screwed shut as you draw closer and closer to the edge.

His fingers curl, hitting a spot inside you that makes stars swim across your vision and you bite down so hard on your lower lip to keep from screaming you draw blood. Like a moth to flame, his lips leave where he’d been sucking a mark into your shoulder to lap the slight trickle of blood off your lower lip.

Maybe you’re wrong for it, but the sight is hot, makes you core tighten around his fingers, addicted to the way he craves you, as if you’re some sort of drug. You drag your hands down his chest, unclasping the last button you can reach before the corset gets in the way. You want to tear it off him and run your tongue over the firm planes of his chest, taste him just as he is you, but that will have to be another time. Your hands move lower, trying to find the laces of his pants around the bunched up frill of your skirts, needing more, unable to convey it around the white noise building in your head. It’s too much and not enough; the best you’ve ever had and you haven’t even cum yet. You’ve never felt so desperate for anything in your life.

He chuckles into your mouth at your neediness, hips rising off the couch to both tease you and give you the leverage you need to find the laces of his pants. You’re really not sure how you manage it around your skirts, how you can think about anything but the movement of his fingers inside you or all the filthy things he keeps whispering in your ear. It’s nothing short of a frenzy as you finally manage to get him free of his laces and guide him directly where you need him most.

He’s not your first by any means, but he’s definitely the biggest, and it takes a moment for you to adjust to his size. By then, the world around you could have been on fire and you wouldn’t have noticed anything but him. There is no orchestra playing, no music besides the sounds of his moans of pleasure as they mingle with yours, no thought but the two of you and how your bodies merge and join.

That white hot pleasure keeps building tighter and tighter with every thrust of his cock inside you, and you steady yourself against the back of the couch, chests brushing as you fight to remain steady. His fingertips will certainly leave bruises on your hips with the way he holds you.

You’re so close to the edge, dangling over the precipice, his name a prayer on your lips as he once again sinks his fangs into your neck for a taste. Release barrels through you as he moans into your bruised flesh, his own release not far behind as you slump exhausted against his chest.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, body trembling as you come down from your high.

Rhys strokes a gloved hand over your ruined hair as you catch your breath. “I was going to turn you tonight,” he hums, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But I think I want a few more rounds of that first.”

You huff a laugh into his chest. You don’t hate the idea. No part of your bargain said he had to turn you immediately. “Is that all vampires do? Feed and fuck?”

Violet eyes gleam playfully in the dark as he says, “Darling, you’ll have all eternity to find out.”

#vampire!rhys #vamp!rhys #rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #rhys x reader #vamp!Rhys smut #vamp!Rhys x reader smut #rhysand acotar #acotar fic #acotar smut #my writing #my fic

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heeverseblog · 1 year ago

Text

take me away (sjy)

pairing: vampire!jake x human!reader

summary: you’re in a secret relationship with one of the hottest male ceos in korea. but that’s not the real secret. the real secret? he’s a vampire.

genre: SMUT, established secret relationship, vampire au, rich people au

warnings: oral (male and fem receiving) a lot of cursing, jake sucks reader’s blood, it's filthy ngl

note: reader and sunghoon aren’t officially engaged so no form of cheating was involved

*read more under the cut*

***

your parents wanted you to attend this masquerade ball where elites such as your family are invited.

you’re an heiress to your father’s interior business that his family’s worked hard for years. when really, he only ended up having the title because his older brother died when your father was 17 and he was the only heir left.

but like any other child, he was forced to marry your mother and like where you are now, they met at a ball and ended up getting married a week later. except they didn’t meet at a masquerade ball.

anyway. that’s why you’re here. your dad wants to marry you off with park sunghoon since his father owned one of korea’s richest banks.

you’ve met sunghoon once and he was nice. but that’s it. you don’t like him like that nor want to start anything with him.

“y/n!”

you roll your eyes, pissed that you were enjoying your glass of champagne. but being the professional person you were, you turn around and greeted sunghoon.

“park sunghoon.”

“you having a pleasant evening?”

i was until you arrived.

“my glass of champagne was keeping me company.”

“maybe you need extra company tonight?”

you internally curse at your father for letting park sunghoon flirt with you. ever since you two met he’s been trying to win you over.

the music turns into a slow, sensual song. you scrunched your forehead, wondering why the heck would they let this type of song play at a formal event like this. you were just thankful that you’re wearing your mask and he wouldn’t see you.

“shall we dance?”

you gave sunghoon a fake smile that he was oblivious to notice before accepting his hand he offered to you.

sunghoon placed his right hand on your waist while his left hand holds your right hand. you revert your attention to the other attendants of the party. they were busy dancing with their partners. your father was busy chatting with sunghoon’s father, both of them were laughing, probably talking about your marriage with sunghoon. the thought made you want to vomit.

suddenly you were spun around and changed partners. your hands landed on someone else’s chest. his chest was bare and covered with only his black blazer.

“like what you see princess?”

hearing the owner of that voice erased all your worries and anger you felt just now.

“you made it,” you whisper.

even if he was wearing a mask, you still think jake sim was the most handsome man in this room. and to be fair, it’s because he is the man you love, and you’ll ever love.

“wouldn’t miss a chance to see you.”

jake slides his hands down to your waist, teasing you by subtly sliding it to your butt. you pull his hands up to your waist again, raising your eyebrows then remembering you were wearing a mask.

“you changed your hair.”

“do you like it?”

“i love it.”

jake changed his hair from blonde to black but still he looked so hot.

“was sunghoon bothering you?”

“nevermind him,” you pull jake closer to you, “you’re here.”

jake bit his lips and turned you around. your back pressing on his chest and you can feel jake’s lips hovering on your neck. his touch made you shiver that you rest your head on jake’s shoulder from behind you.

“like the music tonight?”

you roll your eyes when you realized jake was this naughty to suggest this type of music.

“admit it, it made everything better.”

“hmm…it’s too public though. wanted something more private.”

“my princess is so naughty.”

jake took this as a chance to kiss the side of your neck and you sighed, loud enough for jake to hear that you liked it.

your bliss was cut off when sunghoon saw you in the arms of another man.

fuck.

you quickly turn around and even though your mask was covering half of your face, jake can sense you were panicking.

“what’s wrong, princess?”

“sunghoon saw us.”

jake eyes at sunghoon looking at him with a glare. he smirks and looks down at you, “let’s get out of here.”

you smile too and let yourself be pulled by jake away from the crowd.

you didn’t bother asking how jake knew a way out since you trust him and he was willing to take you away from your worries. at that moment, you didn’t care if your father saw you running away, let alone running away with a someone who wasn’t your supposed fiancée.

you and jake used the emergency stairs and both of you ran as fast as you could. both of you were like naughty little kids running away from their parents. and it felt freeing that you did.

minutes later, you reached jake’s tesla and both of you drove away from the place.

you take off your mask and laughed, “did you see the look on his face?”

you continue laughing and jake could jake laugh at how happy you looked.

“glad to take you away.”

“i’d let you take me away anytime.”

you lean forward and took a good look at jake tonight. his exposed chest and his hair got you all worked up tonight.

so how did you and jake meet?

you met jake at the golf club where you and your parents go to every weekend. they always use the “spend time with your family” card on weekends since you like to hang out with your friends or go to night clubs.

your parents were busy talking to some co-business owners and the owners of the gold club. you were just using your phone and you felt something hit your ankles and it made you hiss.

“what the fuck.”

“sorry, miss.”

the owner of the voice had a gentle yet husky voice. when you looked up, you were met with the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen. his eyes were so gentle that you could stare at them all day and not get tired of them.

“are you alright, miss…”

“y/n!”

you turn around and see your parents walking over to you along with mr. and mrs. choi, beomgyu’s parents.

“ah, sim jaeyun, isn’t it?”

“yes, sir. you can call me jake,” jake shook hands with your father.

“y/n, this is jake, current ceo of sim tuxedos. as a matter of fact, your tuxedos are always the ones i grab.”

“really? thank you, sir.”

“jake, this is y/n. my daughter.”

you face jake again and he holds your hand and kisses it. the action made your heart flutter, considering it’s an action that you find too vintage and weird because why would you kiss someone’s hand on the first meeting?

but jake…he changed the way you thought about that.

“nice to meet you, y/n.”

you smile, thinking that you might be seeing jake often in the golf club after that. and you did.

you and jake would often find yourselves talking about your life. both of you were the only child. you learned that jake lost his parents at a young age and you didn’t miss the way his eyes became sad.

“i’m sorry,” you touch his hand, “it must have been hard for you.”

jake nods, “it was at first. but i didn’t want them to die without making their dream come true.”

“which is?”

“become successful. for me to meet a beautiful girl.”

your eyes grew wide and you shot your head up. jake laughed at your reaction.

“don’t you often hear that?”

you hesitantly shake, “n-no. i don’t think i do.”

“i guess i have to say it more often then.”

before you knew it, you fell in love with jake sim. he let you be yourself without thinking of responsibilities and made you feel loved without asking for anything in return.

but you didn’t tell your father yet. you had to find the perfect time to tell him without your father thinking it’s just a fling.

but when the news of your father wanting you to marry park sunghoon dropped, you wanted to argue but your dad was fast enough to tell you that this is good for your business.

you couldn’t help it so you immediately drove yourself to jake’s place and wanted to tell him to take you away in any part of the world.

on the way to jake’s penthouse, your nervously tapped your foot repeatedly on the ground. you were scared to tell him of the news and how he would react.

when the elevator doors opened, you breathed in before calling out his name, “jake.”

minutes later, jake came walking to you with him wearing his white shirt and joggers.

“y/n?”

when jake saw you crying, he immediately held your face.

“what’s wrong, princess?”

“my dad…he wants me to marry park sunghoon.”

you couldn’t help but release your tears and pushed yourself to jake’s chest. jake immediately hugged you and brushed your hair, hoping it would calm you down.

“shhh…shhh…”

“take me away.”

jake stopped his movements and pulled away from the hug, “what?”

“take me away, jake. please.”

“y/n…i…”

jake stopped, thinking of what to say.

“y/n, i love you but…i can’t.”

“w-what?”

“i can’t, y/n.”

“b-but…you said you love me.”

“i do but…we can’t be together together.”

you were shocked, speechless, confused, pissed?

you snort, “what?” you shake your head, “what the fuck are you saying?!”

jake tried to calm you down by holding your shoulders, “princess, calm down.”

“don’t sweet talk me right now! why can’t we be together?!”

jake was speechless, he didn’t know what to say.

“y/n…i’m sorry. i can’t…”

just like that…your hopes and dreams were crushed by the man you thought would save you from hell.

“you know what…fuck you jake.”

you pushed jake but ended up stumbling backwards and hit the vase behind you. the vase broke and shards of glass got into your leg.

“fuck!”

you looked down and saw your leg was bleeding.

“y/n!”

jake walked closer to you but he stopped. he lost balanced and fell to the ground and he was flinching.

even though you were angry, you were worried of jake’s state so you stood up and walked closer to him.

“jake?”

“y/n, no!”

you flinched when he raised his voice at you but he wasn’t facing you.

“j-jake. you’re scaring me.”

jake was covering his face, specifically his nose and mouth. when you got a better look at him, you were surprised to see his eyes turn red.

“what the…”

jake immediately stood up and went to his refrigerator where he immediately drank from his water jug with red…wait.

is that…blood?

the metallic sort of smell from the liquid spilling from jake’s mouth filled your nose as he gulps it in. the liquid was dripping from the side of his mouth as he finishes the whole jug. once he was done, you can see how his teeth suddenly became sharp.

oh my god.

“j-jake…”

when jake heard your voice, only did he notice what he has done. your reaction filled with fear was written all over your face.

“y/n—”

“no!” you scream, telling jake to stop his tracks.

“you—you’re…”

you couldn’t continue what you wanted to say, still hurt and shocked of what you’ve seen just now.

without a thought, you ran and fled.

that night you came home with your leg still bleeding, forgetting that it ever did. the only reason you could tell your mother was that you fell.

jake didn’t come to the golf club after that. he stopped texting and calling you.

you thought that it was for the best but...you love him. and you want all of him.

you immediately rushed to jake’s penthouse and without a doubt, kissed him the moment you saw him.

“y/n?”

“i don’t care who or what you are. i love you and i want all of you.”

jake didn’t give it another thought to pull you again to a kiss and both of you ended up giving yourselves to each other that night.

remembering what happened to the both of you instantly made you quiet throughout the whole ride until you got to his place. jake noticed your change of demeanor and immediately held your cheek.

“what’s on your mind, princess?”

“nothing, just…what would i do without you?”

you leaned into jake’s touch and he kisses your forehead before both of you get out of the car.

when you got out, only did you notice that you’re in an unfamiliar place. you were in a more remote place where it’s only a wooden house by a hill.

“where are we?”

jake smiles before holding your hand, “come on. i’ll show you.”

both of you ended up taking a long walk before you got to the house.

when you opened it, the interior looked cozy like it was one of those houses from “little women” but with a twist.

“it’s my parents’ house. i just had it remodeled a little.”

you took a look around. you can see now it did have a vintage vibe in it.

“do you come here often?”

“sometimes. when i want to take my mind off of things.”

“and…how many women have you brought here before?”

jake snickers, hugging you from behind, “you’re the only one i brought home here.”

you roll your eyes, “so there were others before me? what did you do? bring them home to their parents and to have tea like how men do in the olden times?”

“first, i was never serious with them. second, did you just call me old?”

“well you’re four centuries older than me.”

jake tickled you from behind and you ran away but jake was too fast that he caught you, trapped you in the wall.

“think you can run away from me?”

you answered back by pulling jake down and giving him a passionate kiss. jake kissed you back and pressed you closer to him by holding your back. his touch made you open your mouth, almost taking jake’s lips inside. you grin when you felt something poking you from down there.

jake pulls away for a second, “i have to fuck you.”

“fuck me hard then.”

jake pushed you inside a room and you hit your back on the bed.

you watched as jake undressed himself above you. the sight was mouth-watering that you immediately sat up and took jake’s dick in your mouth.

“fuck just like that!”

you watch jake throw his head back and felt proud of yourself. you bobbed your head up and down as you continue sucking jake’s cock. the squelching sound was turning you on too that you continued what you were doing.

“you taste good.”

your words and tone just made jake turned on for you more. you were surprised when he held your head and bobbed it up and down the base of his dick. you were letting out choked moans and you had to hold on jake’s hips to hold yourself.

“you’re making me cum, fuck!”

after two minutes of sucking, jake came on your mouth and you licked every bit of him. you stood up and wrapped your arms around jake’s neck as he held your waist.

“i want one too,” you say, putting your lips, “please.”

“of course.”

jake started unzipping your dress and let the garment fall down your body, until it reached the floor. you were almost bare, only leaving you with your panties.

“get on the bed for me,” jake says with his husky voice.

you immediately sat on the bed, waiting for jake to come over you. and when he did, he laid you down and he went down on you, taking off your panties.

you moan when jake started sucking your clit and the feeling made you arch your back. jake was eating you and not just your clit but you felt like jake was sucking your soul into him.

“a-AAAAH!”

“cum for me.”

jake lifted your ass cheeks to lift your lower body as he continues to eat you out. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you feel your legs shaking and toes clenching. you were thankful that the house was secluded, or else people would have heard your screams. you held the sides of your

after jake sucked every bit of juice in you, you kept panting and you can feel sweat dripping down your neck as jake sucked every bit of your essence from your clit to your inner thighs.

jake sets down your legs and immediately help the back of your neck to pull you in an intense kiss. he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and you opened it.

“i love it when you’re eager,” jake says before kissing you again with a growl.

“you make me eager.”

jake wasted no time in putting his cock inside you and it immediately made you roll your eyes at the back of your head.

“look at you,” jake smirks while looking down at you, “such a mess for me already.”

jake rocks his hips forward and you let out another scream. his movements were harder than usual. and in most cases, it’s you taking the lead but this…it made you turn on so much. he kept thrusting in and out that you were craving more and more.

the moment you felt your hole squeezing jake’s cock, he lets out a grunt followed by a moan.

“jake…m-fuck! you’re so fucking good!”

you and jake screaming curses and each other’s names for god knows how long. your head was spinning thanks to jake’s powerful and strong thrusts but it was also sending you to heaven that you didn’t want it to end.

“jake…i’m gonna cum.”

“hold on a little longer.”

if jake was gonna be honest, he wanted to cum right there and now but he wanted to make this moment last forever that he wanted more time inside of you.

you held jake’s shoulder, calling his attention, “come here.”

jake leans down and gives you a very hard kiss. you inhaled sharply as he gave you more thrusts as he locks his lips on yours. when you gasped, jake opened his mouth and entered his tongue on yours.

“i can’t take it anymore…”

jake nods his head, “cum for me.”

jake thrusted more and you felt a lot of cum dripping down your legs. both of you were a mess and continued panting until the two of you came.

you look down at your legs and moan at the sight.

“shit.”

jake laid his body down at your chest, you can hear and feel him panting heavily. you rubbed the back of his head and kissed his temples.

you and jake got under the sheets and clinged to each other the whole night. it’s been a while since you last saw jake that you wanted to cherish this moment.

“have i told you that you look beautiful tonight?”

you blush and hide your face at jake’s chest.

“how can you manage to act so cute when you literally just railed me?”

jake caught your cheek and pulled you close to kiss your forehead then your lips. when you pulled away, you gave him a smile before lying down on his chest again.

“so…this is your room.”

“actually…it’s my parents’.”

your eyes grew wide then you pulled yourself up.

“WHAT?”

jake was surprised at your reaction that he ended up laughing.

“wait, you’re joking right?”

jake sits up, “my room is at the other end of the hall.”

you slapped jake’s chest and he yelped, “ow!”

“why didn’t you tell me before we started fucking?”

“and break that sexual tension we had?”

“we fucked in your parents’ room!”

jake couldn’t say anything and laughed instead.

“oh god they’re gonna think i’m some girl who likes to have sex anywhere.”

“i swear to you, my parents aren’t like that. they’d love you. and besides,” jake holds your face, “i didn’t think it was just fucking. not when it’s with the woman i love.”

you felt like tearing up and when you did, jake used his thumbs to wipe your tears away.

“i love you so much,” you whisper.

jake pressed his lips on yours.

“can i take you away?”

your heart started busting a move. after that incident with jake, you didn’t think about bringing it up with him again. but you’ve always wanted to escape your shitty home and spend the rest of your life with jake.

“you mean it?”

“of course, i mean it.”

jake gives you a longer but slow kiss, sealing the promise he made to you just now.

“would you…bite me then?”

jake should be worried that you suddenly asked this butt he knew the way you were looking at him right now that you have made up your mind. you were ready to be like him. you were ready to spend a lifetime with him.

wasting no time, jake moved your hair and with your neck exposed, he gave it a quick kiss before piercing his fangs onto your skin.

you flinched, not doubting that the feeling is painful but jake held your body close to his and lets you clutch to him.

after a few minutes, jake was done sucking your blood and he licked your wounded area.

“give it a few minutes.”

you literally felt that blood was sucked out of you and it made you dizzy. you were still hugging jake so he gently placed both of you down, not letting you go.

“i’m…my head…”

jake gently brushed the back of his fingers on your face, “i know, princess. just rest. tomorrow, you won’t need to worry about loosing me.”

with that last statement, you drifted yourself to sleep, dreaming what it would be like to spend an eternity with jake by your side.

2K notes · View notes

caelesjjk · 2 years ago

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Wicked As They Come | myg

⟶ title: Wicked As They Come

⟶ pairing: vampire!yoongi x reporter! f reader

⟶ genres/aus: supernatural au, vampire au, fake dating au, ceo au, romance, smut

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ wc: 10.7k

⟶ warnings: Yoongi is a bit mean but 😏, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, threats, dirty talk, mentions of blood, biting, blood drinking, blood play, a cheesy staircase scene, a shower scene, smut in the forms of: oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex, rough sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

⟶ summary: you’ve been undercover at one of Min Yoongi’s many hotels in the city for the past week. you’re there because of the rumors that have been spreading regarding his vampire employees feeding off of his human guests. what you don’t expect to happen is Min Yoongi discovering your true intentions in his hotel and offering you a very interesting ultimatum: pretend to date the vampire CEO to help appeal to his human guests, or quickly find out just what kind of monster he can really be.

⟶ authors note: I know you all must be so surprised to see me posting since it’s been literal months lol. This fic is part of the To Love A Monster collab that I’m hosting with a bunch of really amazing writers. Please check out their fics as well! I have to give some big shoutouts here: M @here2bbtstrash, thank you for betaing what was obviously a mess and assuring me that it wasn’t complete trash, I so appreciate your help. Also to sav @jeonjcngkook who read it before it was even done to also assure me I wasn’t writing junk. And then to jai @gimmethatagustd for making this amazing banner all those months ago when I thought I wouldn’t procrastinate and get this done sooner lol.

I hope you all enjoy this, it’s mostly porn lol.

You have been sneaking around his hotel for a week trying to put any weight behind the rumors that were circulating.

Min Yoongi was a vampire and a very powerful one. He owns almost every luxury hotel within 500 miles of the city. He employs vampires and humans in his hotels and none of the humans you had been talking to seemed afraid to be here. So why are there rumors the vamps are feeding off humans in his hotels?

You have been unable to find any evidence of the unapproved blood drinking. There is, of course, plenty of approved blood drinking. Humans are paid handsomely to volunteer their blood to the vamps and Min Yoongi almost made a show of how much he paid them.

Your last night in the hotel is supposed to be spent at a masquerade party being held downstairs in the grand room, but ever curious you decided to take a small detour past the kitchens.

The dress you are wearing was sent to your hotel room with a note that simply stated “can’t wait to finally meet you tonight when you're wearing this.”

At first, you thought it was possibly delivered to your room by mistake. But the dress was exactly your size and fit like it had been made for you. You didn’t have a no clue who would have sent it, but you weren’t the type to turn down expensive gifts.

While taking your last minute detour past the kitchens, you hear something around the corner that quickly catches your attention.

“I don’t want you to if it’s going to hurt, Jimin.” A female voice says in a hushed whisper.

“I would never hurt you, princess. It’s going to feel so good,” a man with silver hair and a ridiculously pretty smile says to the female as you slowly peek around the corner. One of his hands strokes her cheek while the other holds her body against his.

“Do you promise?” Her voice trembles slightly and you’re immediately afraid for her.

“Of course.” He leans down to kiss her and she seems to melt into him.

There are two things you are absolutely sure about at this moment.

This man named Jimin is a vampire.

This girl is human and being coerced into letting this vampire bite her even though she is obviously terrified.

You watch as the vampire hikes up the girl's skirt, hitching her leg over his hip. You hadn’t noticed that he had removed his cock from his pants until you saw him slip inside the girl in front of him.

You can’t look away, but an even bigger part of you wants to see more. She moans his name and Jimin praises her for taking him so well.

Was this really what they had been talking about? Were they talking about fucking and not him drinking her blood?

But while you were distracted by the scene in front of you, watching tears roll down the girl's face when Jimin slammed her back to the wall, you hadn’t realized that someone else was watching you. A hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your waist and lifts you off the ground.

“You aren’t supposed to be down here,” a deep voice says against the shell of your ear. You try to scream to no avail, flailing your head around trying to hit them in the face, but they’re too quick.

You keep fighting against them, even as you feel a needle pierce the skin of your neck and a scream leave the mouth of that poor girl around the corner.

“Time to wake up.” You feel someone grip your face in their hand to keep your head up. Your mind feels like a fog has settled inside.

“You probably gave her too much, Namjoon,” a voice says.

“Impossible. I never miscalculate a dose.”

“Would you two please shut the fuck up,” a deep grumbly voice says from a little further away. “Open your eyes, little monster.”

You force them to flutter open, trying to focus on what’s in front of you through your blurry vision.

“Where…where am I?” You start to move your limbs; your legs move fine, but your arms are handcuffed behind the back of the chair you’re sitting in. “What the fuck?”

“We need to talk about why you’ve been snooping around my hotel for the past week. And I suggest you not lie to me or I’ll kill you now.” A man dressed in a very expensive suit comes around the front side of the desk he was sitting behind and leans against it.

“If you already know, what’s the point in me telling you anything?” Your vision clears more as you focus on his face: long black hair smoothed back off his forehead and eyes that could see through your soul.

“Humor me.” His voice is suddenly at your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Is this how you treat all of your guests? Cuffing them to chairs and letting your employees drink their blood even though they’re terrified?” You glare at him as you speak. It didn’t take you long to realize that this man is Min Yoongi.

He laughs before placing his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning down until his face is level with yours.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, little monster.” His voice is low and his smirk is maddening.

“I’m calling the cops as soon as I get the fuck out of here. This is kidnapping.” You struggle against the cuffs to no avail. Yoongi leans down closer, his nose coming down to skim your throat and cause your body to freeze.

“I can smell it on you…the fear. Your heart is pumping too hard. It’s fucking divine.” His tongue ghosts along your skin and no matter how hard you try not to react, goosebumps appear after you shiver. “Does that turn you on, little monster? Knowing I could kill you…bleed you dry on my tongue?”

It does. God it fucking does. It’s so fucked up, but pain…pushing limits…a little bit of fear…you fucking love it.

“No.” You seethe through clenched teeth.

“Liar.” His words are hot against your ear before his inhuman speed takes him back to the other side of his desk in an instant.

“Bastard.” You cross your legs tightly and slump against the chair.

“You have a choice to make, Ms. ______.” Yoongi sits down in his oversized leather chair and leans back with his eyes on you. “I’m in need of a partner. A human one. Someone to make appearances with me and make it look convincing. I need the humans to book my hotels more often. You can either help me do that or I can kill you.”

“Gee, so glad you’ve given me so many options here,” you scoff.

“What will it be then?” His hand cards through his long hair but his attention stays on you.

You realize that this may give you an extra in for your article. You could have insider information about what’s going on in these hotels if you agree. Maybe this isn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened.

“Fine. I agree.” You know the smile on your face probably isn’t as convincing as you want it to be.

“Meet me back here tomorrow night to sign the contract.” Yoongi nods towards the vampires who have been lingering near the door and one of them comes forward to undo your cuffs.

“Perfect.”

“What the hell? You’ve got an entire clause in this thing that says I can’t write any piece of journalism regarding what I see and hear at any time while or after the contract is up? That’s bullshit!” You toss the thick packet of paper back onto his desk.

“I’ll compensate you for any money your magazine would pay you for the article you were going to write about me.” Yoongi says, as if he’s bored to death as he scrolls his phone.

“How much compensation are we talking about here? Because the magazine I’m working for pays pretty decently for pieces like…” Your sentence is cut off by the sound of your phone dinging on the table. You pick it up to see Min Yoongi has deposited $20,000 into your bank account. You choke, almost throwing your phone when you see the number. “You can’t be serious.”

“Now that your compensation is dealt with, is there anything else in the terms you want to discuss?” Namjoon says, steam practically pouring out of his ears. He turns to his boss next. “Or is there any more money you would like to just throw around?”

You glare at Yoongi, his eyes never leaving you as you reach onto the table and pick the packet of papers back up. He smiles, poking the tip of his tongue against one of his fangs.

Flipping through the rest of the contract, it occurs to you that one thing was never mentioned throughout that ridiculously long document.

“There’s nothing about sex in here.” You skim through a few pages again and Namjoon nearly chokes.

“Should there be?” Yoongi says with amusement in his voice.

“I just assumed…”

“If you want me to fuck you, little monster, we don’t need a contract for it. Just say that’s what you want.” He leans over the desk, his elbows resting on it.

“Obviously I don’t.” You cross your legs and pretend to look through the contract more.

“Get out,” Yoongi says, black eyes still staring at you.

“Excuse me?” You’re about to go off before he cuts you off.

“Not you.” He turns his eyes to Namjoon who was apparently pretending there was something more interesting on his phone. “You. Get out of my office.”

“Asshole,” Namjoon mumbles as he shoves his chair back and, quicker than any human ever could, rushes out of the door and leaves it slamming behind him.

“What is your problem? Why did you tell him to leave?”

“My problem is that you’re lying to me. So I’ll give you one last chance to tell the truth. Do you want to be fucked?” He starts to loosen the tie around his neck while standing up slowly from his desk.

“Why do you assume that I want you to fuck me?” Your mouth feels dry as you grip the arms of your chair.

“Does your cunt usually get ridiculously wet when you don’t want to be fucked?” He stops in front of you, the silky black neck tie sliding between his long fingers.

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

“No? So if I got my fingers between your legs I wouldn’t find you dripping?”

“It wouldn’t be because of you.” You tighten your jaw and lift your nose slightly into the air in defiance. “Maybe I thought your lawyer was hot.”

Yoongi has never looked more wicked than he does at this moment. It’s like any kind of mask he was wearing to hide the monster has slipped away, his eyes suddenly the color of blood and fangs elongated while he grips the arms of the chair you’re sitting in, crushing them in his hands. The suddenness of it all makes you yelp in surprise.

“Don’t forget who you’re talking to with that smart fucking mouth, little monster.” One of Yoongi’s hands lifts from the rubble of the chair arms so he can drag a finger up your chest. Even without his inhuman abilities, you know he can hear your heart.

You should be terrified. You are terrified. But you should be trying to get away. Fight him off of you. But you just want more. Want him to bend you over his desk and show you the monster he can truly be.

His wandering finger makes its way over your pulse thrumming in your neck, making him groan low and deep in his chest. But he doesn’t stop there; he keeps his torturously slow pace until the finger is resting on your chin just beneath your lips.

“Open,” he demands, the red of his eyes slowly retreating back to their normal dark color.

You decide not to argue this time, parting your lips just enough for him to slip his finger into the hot cavern of your mouth.

“Suck, little monster, like it’s my cock I know you’re dying to choke on.” He presses the long digit against your tongue, tilting his head to the side as he watches your lips wrap around his finger.

You suck gently at first, running your tongue along its length until you can taste the metal of the very expensive ring on his finger. You lift your eyes to meet his, desperate to see how it’s affecting him.

“You can do better, can’t you, beautiful?” His other hand cups your chin and tilts it up more before he pulls his finger from your mouth. “Well?”

You watch as he leans against his desk, spreading his legs slightly as he presses his palms to the top of the dark wood.

It only takes you a moment to realize what he’s suggesting, and then you’re sliding from the leather chair you’re sitting in down to your knees on the floor in front of him. You can tell he’s half hard already when you come face to face with his crotch.

“This doesn’t mean anything.” Your voice sounds strained and unfamiliar. Yoongi smirks, a small laugh slipping out.

“Don’t worry, little monster. Out there you can be my well put together princess. But here, you’re my whore.” He growls the last part, one of his fangs poking into his bottom lip as he watches you undo his belt and zipper.

You hate how hard your pussy clenches at his words. How much you’re craving exactly what you’re getting. It’s stupid. So, so stupid.

Running your hands up his thighs, you slip your fingers into the band of his underwear and pants, sliding them down to free his waiting cock. And of course it’s perfect. His cocky demeanor is well backed up by the size of the dick in your face alone. Your mouth waters.

“There will be plenty of time for you to gawk, but right now you should really start sucking.” His fingers lace into your hair and lightly grip at the back of your head. You roll your eyes at him, but take his cock into your hand anyways.

His skin is cool to the touch but still flushed as you stroke him. A hum of approval comes from above you. You look up again, taking him into your mouth and making sure to hold eye contact as you do.

Your tongue swirls around him while your head bobs slowly up and down his long shaft. His grip in your hair tightens each time you take him a little deeper into your throat.

“Good girl, fuck,” Yoongi groans, grabbing the bottom of his button up shirt and pulling it up to his chest so that he can see everything that you’re doing.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you let your throat relax and take him all the way down until your nose presses against his lower stomach. The groan you receive in return is nothing short of delicious.

“I could tell from the moment I saw you watching Jimin fuck that girl downstairs that you were going to be the sweetest little slut.” He grips your hair hard, making you yelp around his cock. “And I was so fucking right.” Yoongi uses your hair as leverage to start rocking his hips and fucking into your mouth.

This is exactly what you want. You want him to use you and say dirty things. Your pussy has been clenching around nothing and dripping all over your thighs the entire time. You open your mouth as wide as you can and let him corrupt your throat, holding on to the backs of his thighs for dear life.

“How badly do you want my cum, little monster?” His voice is breathy and full of lust.

Unable to answer him with your mouth occupied, you slide your hands up to his ass cheeks and dig your nails in, making him jolt further down your throat. God you want it so badly.

“Fuck, that’s so good. So fucking good.” Yoongi releases his grip on your hair and lets you bob your head up and down him again to finish him off.

You bring a hand around to stroke him in tandem with your mouth, squeezing at the head on each upstroke. You watch above you as his head finally falls back with a loud moan, his hand on the back of your head to hold you down as he cums down your throat.

He didn’t have to hold you there, you were gladly going to take it all, but it’s obvious this vampire loves control. So you continue to suck softly until he’s finished and pulls his cock from your lips.

You take in a deep breath when he releases you, falling forward slightly but catching yourself on your hands.

“Let me see,” Yoongi grumbles.

“See what?” you say, out of breath. He doesn’t answer, simply grabs your chin and yanks you back up to look at him.

“Open your mouth,” he demands and you obey. “Good girl. I like to see that it’s all been swallowed down your perfect throat.” He releases your chin, extending his hand for you to take to help you up.

As you stand on wobbly legs, you’re surprised by the sudden gentleness from the man who was fucking your throat raw just moments ago. Yoongi helps you straighten your clothes and then moves on to his own, fixing his pants back into place as if the whole thing hadn’t just happened.

“Are you going to put sex in the contract now?” you ask, genuinely curious. Yoongi laughs quietly as he rounds the other side of his desk.

“If you’d prefer it be in writing I can have Namjoon add it in.”

“That…might be best.” You don’t know why. Maybe to give yourself the illusion that this isn’t something you’re more than willing to do.

“As you wish.” He sits back in his chair and watches as you head for his door. “And little monster?”

“Yes?” You almost jump at the sound of his voice again.

“A member of my staff will be taking you shopping and helping you get settled into my penthouse in the next few days.”

“Your penthouse? I don’t remember living together being in the contract.”

“We have to make this as believable as possible. And I want to keep you close.” He opens his laptop, ignoring the surprised look on your face.

“Possessive much?” You glare at him, arms crossing over your chest. He hums with a smirk.

“Only when it comes to things that are mine.” His words send a shiver down your spine, and in that moment you aren’t sure if it’s out of lust or fear.

You don’t respond further, slipping out of his office so that you can breathe again.

“Was all of this truly necessary?” you ask.

“Yoongi said you were to get everything you wanted.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders as he types into his phone.

Jungkook had come to your hotel room three days after you’d left Yoongi’s office. He’s apparently Yoongi’s assistant, and lucky for you, is much friendlier than his boss. He had other staff collect your things from your room and take them to Yoongi’s penthouse before rushing you out the door to shop.

“Yes, but you literally bought everything I even glanced at twice.” There are bags covering the entire floor of the elevator you’re riding up in, and the hotel attendants will be bringing tons more up from the car.

“Don’t overthink it. Just enjoy being the spoiled brat that you are for a few months,” Jungkook teases, making you roll your eyes with a laugh.

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival at the very top floor of the hotel. Your stomach twists as the thought of living here with Yoongi finally dawns on you. This is a ridiculous idea.

“Welcome home!” Jungkook shouts, scaring you for a moment.

You step out into the entryway of the penthouse, immediately overwhelmed by the beautiful set up. The entire far wall is windows, of course: it wouldn’t be a penthouse without ceiling to floor windows. But the way the sun is setting outside is breathtaking to see from this high up.

You move a little further inside, taking in the black leather couches and oversized fireplace in the living room area. Fur carpets cover the dark wood floors and abstract pieces of art sit on almost every table.

It’s an open concept, the kitchen taking up the other half of the first floor. Though you aren’t sure why a vampire would need a kitchen with their…special diet. It has lights that drop down low from the ceiling and a huge island with tons of seating. Does Min Yoongi enjoy entertaining guests? You can barely imagine it.

“Boss should be back soon. Want me to wait with you?” Jungkook says, still typing away into his phone. He’s rather sweet for a vampire.

“I’ll be fine, Jungkook.” You give him a small smile as you wrap your arms around yourself. “And thank you for today.”

“My pleasure. You’ve got my number, anything you need just give me a call.” He looks up at you, then inhumanly fast is out the door. How will you ever get used to that?

You decide to look a little closer at the kitchen, letting your fingertips ghost over the black marble countertops. Making your way to the fridge, you open its huge doors to find it fully stocked with food.

“What the fuck?” you mumble to yourself. Why did he need all of this food?

Before you close the doors, a bottle of wine on the top shelf catches your eye and you grab it before spinning around to face the kitchen island and search for a corkscrew.

What you don’t expect to see is Min Yoongi standing on the other side of the island, watching you carefully.

“Holy shit!” you screech, your heart lurching in your chest. “Can you please make some noise when you enter a room? Jesus.”

“Making yourself at home, little monster?” He smirks, likely loving the fact that you almost had a heart attack.

“I was just looking around.” You sit the bottle of wine down and lean over the counter, resting your elbows on the marble. “Is that okay?” You know that your cleavage is pushed up by the way you're bent over and you definitely did it on purpose.

“You’re welcome to look around.” He drums his long fingers against the countertop. “I’ve got nothing to hide from you.” You scoff.

“No bodies hidden in the closets? A coffin in your bedroom perhaps?” You reach up and carefully take a wine glass down from the rack hanging above the kitchen island.

“This isn’t the dark ages, little monster. The sun being a problem for vampires is something of the past.” He shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the chair next to him.

“It seems vampires evolve very quickly.” You say it casually, hoping he will spill information that most humans don’t know; information that you can use when you write an article exposing everything about them.

“Curious little thing, aren’t you?” He loosens his tie while slowly stalking towards you around the counter.

“It’s my job to be curious.” You try to pretend that him coming closer doesn’t affect you by pouring the wine into the glass you retrieved.

“Do you think you’re going to find a loophole in my contract? Something that would allow you to write your article? Foolish…” Yoongi wraps his tie around his palm and continues his slow movements towards you. Your stomach tightens, wondering when he’s going to get sick of you and kill you where you stand.

“We don’t need to talk about the article. It’s obviously not happening.” You take a drink, the sweet white liquid enticing your taste buds.

“Your heart gives you away.”

“What?” You’re taken aback by his words, taking them in a way he didn’t mean.

“It’s picked up speed. Almost a thrum. You’re lying…but that’s okay. You want to be brave, then go ahead. But I’m not your enemy, little monster.” He moves too quickly for a moment, coming too close all at once, causing you to drop your wine glass on the floor.

The glass shatters against the tile floor, the wine spreading out and filling into the space between the tiles. You don’t even think about your next move, bending down and immediately starting to pick up the shards of glass.

“Sorry…” you start to say, nicking your palm on a piece of glass in your rush to scoop them up. “Fuck, that hurts. Could you hand me a rag?” You don’t look up at first, but when Yoongi doesn’t say anything, you get impatient.

What you see is the monster you know you shouldn’t want so desperately.

His eyes are red and raging as he grips the counter top with one of his hands, the marble starting to crumble between his fingers.

“Get the fuck up.” Yoongi struggles but manages to get the words out between gritted teeth.

“What?” You scoot back across the floor, trying to put space between you. You watch as his hands shove into his hair, pulling at the long black strands as he makes pained groaning noises at the floor.

With that inhuman speed, Yoongi leans down and grabs your wrist, blood still leaking from the cut on your palm. The grip on your wrist is so hard you’re afraid he might break your bones.

“Yoongi, you’re hurting me. Let go,” you practically whimper as he drags you up from the floor and shoves you against the side of the island. “Stop. Please don’t…”

You know that if he wanted to kill you, he would have by now. He could have drained you dry and no one would ever know to even look for you here. But the fear makes you feel alive. It makes your heart hammer and your pussy clench. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Yoongi grabs your wrist again, making you yelp in surprise. He stares at it for a moment, intently watching your blood slide down your skin. He closes his eyes before making his final decision.

You decide to close your eyes too, not sure if you want to see what could happen next.

To your surprise, what you feel is the warm, wet muscle of his tongue licking along the inside of your wrist up to your palm. Your eyes shoot open immediately, meeting his ruby colored orbs.

“I want to kill you,” he whispers against the skin of your wrist, lapping at the blood once more.

“I know,” you whisper back.

“Why does that make your pussy wet, little monster?” He smiles wickedly before his lips attach to the cut on your palm, sucking gently. You can’t help the moan that slips past your lips as you watch your blood coat his mouth and run down his chin.

“I…I don’t know.” You reach out with your other hand to grab onto his shirt and anchor yourself to something.

“All of that insolence seems to disappear when your pussy is getting what it wants.” He licks one more long stripe up your wrist before he pulls away, his eyes in the beginning stages of returning to their normal dark.

“You haven’t given me anything that I want.” You yank your wrist out of his hold, rubbing at the bruise marks already appearing. Yoongi rolls his eyes, grasping your shoulders and turning you around to walk you towards the sink. He turns on the water and motions for you to put your hand underneath it.

You turn your back to him, washing your hand under the warm water until it seems to stop bleeding heavily. You start to reach for a towel before you feel his chest against your back, his arms suddenly caging you against the counter in front of the sink.

“Why don’t you tell me what it is you want then, hm?” His breath against your ear sends a shiver down your spine. “I can smell every bit of desire between your legs.” His knee comes up between your legs, making you brace yourself on the counter at the sudden pressure he’s putting against your pussy.

“Touch me…and don’t stop.” Your body shakes in anticipation. Yoongi chuckles in your ear, his tongue finding the lobe.

“You’ll take what I give you…and you’ll be fucking grateful.” His sharp fangs nip at your ear and cause your ass to press harder into his crotch. You don’t care what he wants to give you at this point, you’re too desperate.

“Please,” you whine.

“I’m feeling benevolent this evening…you sucked my cock so well the other day that I may even let you cum.” He presses his cock against your ass before pulling away from you all together.

“Asshole.” You scowl as you turn around to face him. Yoongi merely looks amused.

“I’m still hungry, little monster. Get on the counter.” He pats the marble top with his hand while he undoes the top few buttons of his shirt with the other.

“Why?”

“Are you always going to ask so many questions or are you just going to fucking listen?” He cards a hand through his long raven colored hair and sighs, drenched in annoyance.

“Fine.” You roll your eyes, walking towards him where he stands by the kitchen island. Before you even have a chance to call him more names, he’s grabbing you by the hips and practically tossing you onto the counter. “Fuck, Yoongi, can you try not to break me?”

“Where's the fun in that?” He smirks, coming to stand between your thighs, your face just above his from this height. “I think you may even beg me for it.” His voice is low, a rumble in his chest as he watches your face.

You want to reach up and push some of the stray hairs away from his face. But that would mean you have some kind of affection towards this vampire and you can’t let that happen. It’s almost painful to keep your hands at your sides.

“Get on with it then.” Your lips just barely ghost his when you speak, yet another thing you have to keep yourself from wanting.

Too quickly, your back is suddenly pressed against the cold marble countertop when Yoongi grabs your thighs and pulls your ass to the edge. You yelp when his lips press to the inside of your thigh.

“Maybe the human men you’ve slept with like that smart mouth of yours, little monster.” He shoves your skirt up over your hips, long fingers immediately finding your slit over your panties. “But me? It makes me want to devour you.”

You moan and don’t hold back the sound, shivering when you feel his fangs pressing against your skin. He sucks a trail up your thigh, leaving small blossoms in his wake. When you feel his tongue languidly slide over the outside of your panties, you almost come undone right there.

“Please don’t tease me anymore. I’m so wet already.” He licks at you again before raising his head to look at you.

“Be a good girl and take what I give you.” His hand reaches between your thighs and, with no effort at all, rips your underwear from your body in a single motion.

You don’t have time to be snarky again before his face is buried in your pussy. Your back arches off the counter, fingers gripping at the marble to no avail.

The long muscle of his tongue swirls around your clit before expertly diving back down inside you, licking up every bit of wetness that leaks from you. The world feels as if it’s tilting on its axis, that feeling of falling clouding your mind when you start to feel the urge to cum after such a short period of time.

“You’re going to give me at least three, so stop holding back and let me have what’s mine.” The rough grumble of his voice vibrates straight to your core as the pad of his thumb strokes your clit and his tongue disappears back inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, chest heaving as your first orgasm wracks through you like a hurricane on a path of destruction with no end in sight.

“Your cum tastes almost as good as your blood, little monster. Again.” His long fingers slide inside you easily as your body shakes from being over-sensitive.

“Feels so good.” Your hands take on a mind of their own and make their way into the long, messy strands of his hair, gripping at the roots and pulling him closer.

“Greedy.” Yoongi sucks harshly on your clit, letting it pop from between his lips before he soothes it with his tongue.

“Asshole,” you moan, feeling your second orgasm hurtling towards you. Yoongi laughs quietly against the inside of your thigh.

“You like the pain. Stop pretending that you don’t.” He nips at your skin with his fangs, making you flinch. “You just gushed on my tongue.”

“I can’t go again, Yoongi. I need to stop.” You can feel sweat dripping from your forehead, your skin hot to the touch.

“You can and you will.” His arms wrap tightly around your thighs and yank you back to the edge of the counter, your sweaty skin squeaking across the surface.

Your body is telling you to scream. The pleasure and the discomfort are dancing a fine line and your head is absolutely swimming. You begin to think that you may not live through this when his mouth is back on your abused pussy.

Yoongi throws your legs over his shoulders and licks deeper than he had been before, the bottom half of his face drenched in everything leaking from you through the past two orgasms.

“Bite me,” you beg. You know if he bites you that it will intensify everything you feel, but also bring the possibility that the monster consuming your pussy kills you.

Yoongi practically rips himself from you, his breathing ragged and rushed.

“Don’t ask for things that you don’t understand.” His long fingers find your swollen clit while the other hand swipes across his mouth.

“Please…please I can’t cum again without it.” Tears start to slip down your face.

“I could kill you. It would be so fucking easy.” His eyes start to turn red, the crimson bleeding into his dark irises.

“It’s worth the risk, isn’t it? Please…” You’re so desperate you have no idea what you’re saying. Yoongi scoffs.

“You really are a little monster, aren’t you?” Yoongi smiles, his fangs elongating. Your heart beats so fast, somewhat with fear but mostly with the anticipation of what you’ll feel when he bites you.

In a flash, the vampire between legs is sinking his teeth into the inside of your thigh. You gasp, all the air leaving your lungs as your eyes fly open, the light fixtures on the ceiling blurring. You grab at your breasts when a sudden flood of heat starts to spread through your entire body.

Your body jolts when Yoongi takes the first long drag of your blood into his mouth. He moans at the taste, his hands gripping your hips in a bruising hold.

Another long pull of blood floods into his mouth and you start to see stars. Yoongi moves one hand back to your pussy, his fingers gathering wetness and spreading it up to your swollen clit.

“Yoongi…” You’re so light headed you aren’t sure if you can keep your eyes open much longer. Yoongi rips his mouth from your thigh, his chest heaving, blood dripping off his chin and down his neck where it stains the white collar of his shirt.

“Good girl. You’re doing so well, baby.” He pushes you back further onto the counter before climbing onto it himself.

You can feel the warmth of your blood coating your skin on your thigh, but the only other thing you’re desperately aware of is him. Him and the way he rips your dress off your body as if it wasn’t extremely expensive and brand new.

“I’m so close.” Everything between your legs aches but your greedy body still wants more.

“I’m going to keep you, little monster. You’re mine now.” He licks the inside of your thigh, dragging his tongue through the blood. “Say it.”

“Yours,” you sigh, his fingers gathering up the blood on your skin and spreading over one of your breasts.

“I’ll make you cum now, little monster. Good girls get what they need.” His sinful mouth attaches to your breast, licking and sucking the blood.

You arch up from the counter top, pushing your breast further into his mouth and spreading your legs wider when his fingers make their way back inside you, petting your walls and stroking your g-spot until he’s making you cum again.

Your cheeks are wet from tears and your body is weak from losing blood and orgasming a ridiculous amount of times. But somehow you manage to sit up on your elbows when Yoongi slides back off of the counter, wiping his mouth and licking his fingers clean of your juices and blood.

“You’re quite divine, even if you constantly test my patience.” He puts a hand out for you to take. When you do, he helps you down from the counter. “Let’s shower.”

“You want to shower with me?” Your legs wobble as you stand and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“I need to make sure you don’t collapse while you’re in there. Don’t overthink it.” He looks around at the floor still covered in glass and the countertop covered in your blood. “I’ll have someone clean this up while we get you cleaned up.”

“Is it a normal occurrence for the cleaning staff to casually clean up blood?” You stumble a bit when you try to take a step. Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“So many questions.”

“You could’ve picked any human to be your fake girlfriend, I’m sure there are plenty of them that wouldn’t ask questions.” You take another wobbly step. Yoongi sighs behind you, moving too fast for your eyes as he scoops you up into his arms. Your eyes have no time to adjust before you’re in the bathroom.

“Don’t make me regret that decision, little monster,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, carefully sitting you down onto a chaise lounge chair.

“Why is this here?” you ask, hands sliding over the soft material.

“Perhaps I’ll show you some time.” He smiles wickedly, turning away from you to turn on the water inside the giant shower. Water pours down like a waterfall from the ceiling.

You take a moment to appreciate the incredible shower before your eyes find Yoongi again, his fingers still stained with your blood nimbly beginning to unbutton his shirt and revealing the smooth planes of his chest and stomach. It’s the first time you’ve really had a moment to appreciate the details of his body.

Your eyes fall on the crotch of his pants, still tented and tight.

“Do you want me to…” you motion towards his obvious hard on.

“No. Not tonight.” He holds out his hand for yours again. “Come here.” You let him wrap his fingers around yours, helping you to your feet. He makes sure that you’re steady before walking you into the shower.

Yoongi stands back, watching you walk under the steaming waterfall and removing his pants as he does. He commits the shape of your body to memory, eager to continue defiling it every chance that he gets.

You don’t hear him approach, your skin merely explodes in goosebumps when the cool skin of his hands and arms wraps around your torso from behind you. His face finds the crook of your neck, lips seeking out your throat and up to your jaw. It’s surprisingly…soft.

“Does it hurt?” he murmurs against your ear, fingers ghosting at your lower stomach. Cool lips kiss your shoulder.

“Just sore.” You turn your head and meet his eyes when he lifts his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Looking at him in that moment makes you suddenly realize that you’ve never kissed Yoongi. Maybe he wants it that way. Kissing is intimate and this is supposed to be an arrangement with no feelings involved.

He looks at you a moment longer before he clears his throat, his arms leaving your body as he kneels down in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen.

“Relax, little monster. I’m going to make it better. Hold onto my shoulders.” He waits until you do as he asks before he carefully lifts your legs, turning your inner thigh towards his face.

Blood still slowly seeps from the puncture wounds he left behind, bruises forming around them. Yoongi looks up to meet your eyes once more, holding them as he sticks out his tongue and presses it to your thigh, swiping up the blood before he drags it over the punctures.

Shivering at the feeling, you watch as the bite marks seal themselves closed and the bruising quickly fades from your skin. It’s as if nothing had ever happened.

“That trick must get a lot of attention at parties.” You try to laugh at your own joke, but you’re honestly so taken aback by what just happened in front of you. Yoongi smiles, a real one that you aren’t sure you’ve seen until now.

“Vampire venom has healing properties. I’m not a fan of the idea of you being uncomfortable in any way.” He presses a kiss to your thigh, then stands from the shower floor.

He helps you wash your body and hair, rubbing your scalp and shoulders until you almost fall asleep standing up.

“Come to bed.” You suddenly realize that you’re no longer in the shower, but in Yoongi’s bedroom, a fluffy black towel wrapped around your body.

“Why am I in your room?” you ask, confused.

“Because you’re sleeping in my bed. With me.” He throws back the comforter and pats the mattress. “In the bed, little monster.”

“Why am I sleeping in here? Surely you have spare rooms in this ridiculously big penthouse.” The idea of Yoongi wanting you to sleep in bed with him feels strange.

“Of course there are, but you’re staying in my room. Stop asking questions for the night, I beg you.” He rubs his temple as he walks towards his closet, reappearing a literal second later with sleep pants on. “Sleep in this if you want.” He tosses a tshirt towards you and you barely manage to catch it.

“But I don’t…” you start to protest again and Yoongi is suddenly in front of you, his hand covering your mouth.

“I want you to sleep in here. You’re mine and that’s all the explanation I’ll be giving you. No. More. Questions.” When you nod in understanding, he slowly moves his hand down and holds your jaw. “Get into bed.”

You nod again and he releases you, walking around to the other side of the bed. Yoongi settles with his back against the headboard, watching as you drop your towel and slip on the T-shirt he had given you.

“Are all vampires as possessive as you?” You glare at him playfully as you climb into the bed.

“What did I just say about questions, _____?” He throws his hands up in the air.

“Fine. Goodnight.” You dramatically grab the comforter and pull it over you, turning to face away from him. You hear him laugh quietly before the bed shifts once more and sleep grabs hold of you faster than it ever has.

Weeks go by.

The arrangement becomes easier and easier to do.

Yoongi brings you to parties and meetings and formal dances, dressing you up in the most gorgeous and expensive outfits. He gets you anything that you want and all you have to do is talk about how amazing he is to all of his human investors and guests.

He keeps you close, doesn’t let you wander too far. His cool hand is always at the small of your back.

The possessiveness is something you thought you would find annoying. He explained it’s just in a vampire's nature to be that way. But it’s easy to just let it happen when deep down, you love it.

God there really is something wrong with you.

Yoongi being possessive, however, is not the biggest problem you’ve had over the last few weeks. The problem is that he refuses to fuck you.

There’s plenty of other things to keep the edge off. Using his mouth to possess you in an entirely different way. He buries his face between your legs every chance that he gets. In his office…on top of his desk…in every dark corner he can find. You repay the favor when he lets you, letting him use your throat as his own personal fuck toy. But it isn’t enough, and he brushes you off every time you try to bring it up.

Tonight is an extremely important night. Yoongi is throwing a party to celebrate the grand opening of his newest hotel. There will be hundreds of people in attendance that need to be impressed.

“Are you almost ready?” Yoongi’s deep voice startles you as you stand in front of the vanity mirror in his bathroom.

“Just finishing up.” You pop in your second very large emerald earring before picking up the matching necklace. It’s the heaviest piece of jewelry you’ve ever felt.

“Can I help with that?” He comes to stand behind you, holding out his hand for the necklace.

“Thanks.” You carefully place it in his palm and turn back to the mirror, watching his face intently.

“You understand how important this night is, don’t you?” His breath tickles the back of your neck as he speaks. “How badly I need it to go well?”

“I know.” His eyes meet yours in the mirror as he carefully brings the chain around your throat.

“Good girl.” His lips meet your shoulder, pressing a too-soft kiss to your already heated skin.

“You’re going to have to talk eventually.” Your eyes fall shut when his hands come around and cup your breasts from behind.

“I find it amusing that you think I owe you any kind of explanation for what I do or don’t do to you, little monster.” He pinches your nipples through the thin material of your dress, making you hiss through your teeth and lean further into him.

“Just tell me why you won’t fuck me, Yoongi. It’s been weeks.” You grind your ass against his growing erection.

“We’ll discuss this later. The car is waiting downstairs.” A scrape of his fangs across your shoulder before the feeling of his body against your back is gone.

“Asshole,” you grumble, straightening your dress and smoothing any hair that may have moved out of place.

He waits for you at the top of the stairs, offering his hand to help you walk down them in your heels. You brush past him, taking on the challenge unassisted and making Yoongi scoff.

The universe has other plans for you though, not allowing you even a single moment of holding your head up high before you trip on the edge of one of the stairs. It happens so quickly that you don’t even have time to make a sound.

There are arms abruptly wrapped around you, too quick for your human eyes to make sense of. The next thing you know, your back is being shoved against the railing, bent, with a vampire looming over you, his nose pressing to yours while his lips ghost just above you.

“Do you have a death wish, little monster?” Yoongi whispers, his hold on you tightening.

“I’m sorry…that was so…” You can’t think straight, let alone comprehend what just happened.

“Stupid? Yes, so very stupid.” One of his hands leaves your back and makes its way into your hair, pulling the strands to make you look up at him. “Do not ever endanger yourself that way again. I can’t be around all the time to keep you alive.”

“Okay.” You nod, lips brushing his in the motion. You shudder at their cool sensation. But when you move to try and kiss him, he immediately pulls back.

“Come on. We’re late.” When he offers his hand this time, you take it, letting him usher you into the penthouse elevator and down to the lobby. His bodyguards get the two of you into the car in a blur.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word in the car. He doesn’t even look at you the entire way to the new hotel. It’s fucking infuriating.

Once inside the hotel, you immediately grab a glass of champagne off of a passing tray, downing it quickly before you feel the familiar pressure of Yoongi’s hand on your lower back.

“Easy, little monster,” he says lowly. You roll your eyes, plastering on a fake smile and joining him to talk to some very rich humans.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” A tall man in a pristine suit and glasses says when you join them. He is incredibly handsome.

“Taehyung, this is my girlfriend, Y\N. Y/N, Kim Taehyung. He’s giving me a hard time about investing in my hotels.” Yoongi’s fingers gently stroke your bare back exposed from your dress.

“Girlfriend? A human?” Taehyung asks curiously.

“100% human,” you laugh, nervously gesturing towards yourself.

“Wouldn’t have imagined such a pairing. Especially for you, Yoongi.” Taehyung sips his whiskey, his eyes staying on you even as he speaks to Yoongi. You’re too busy trying to laugh at everything he says to notice the way Yoongi’s jaw tightens.

“Yes, well, sometimes humans can be rather surprising. Tolerable even.” Yoongi looks at Taehyung like he wants to drain him, while everyone else standing there laughs at what Yoongi has said.

“Indeed.” Taehyung sips his whiskey again.

“We should make our rounds, baby.” Yoongi runs his finger under your chin, bringing your eyes up to his. “Come,” he whispers, only loud enough for you to hear. You bite your bottom lip, nodding as you thread your fingers through his.

“I hope to see you again soon, _____,” Taehyung calls from behind the two of you. Yoongi starts to turn around but you pull him back.

“Don’t. He’s trying to get under your skin.”

“I could snap his neck…sever his throat…” Yoongi loosens his tie a little, pulling your hand to continue walking towards the outdoor balcony.

“You need him, don’t you? Just think about that.”

“He makes the best gambling games in the damn country, of course I need him.” He runs a hand through his long hair, the strands of it even longer now than they were when you had first met him all those weeks ago.

“So let it go,” you sigh, releasing his hand when the two of you are alone outside. “I don’t know why you care anyways.”

“I didn’t say I cared.”

“You were acting like a jealous prick back there. Seems like you might care a little.” You fold your arms over your chest, cool night air chilling your skin.

“I don’t, you ridiculously infuriating woman,” he half-laughs, pressing his palms to the stone wall that overlooks the hotel courtyard.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care about you either.” You’re practically pouting but you don’t care.

He groans, his fingers cracking the stone beneath them. You want to close the distance between the two of you, touch his chin and make him look at you.

“Why is it so hard for you to say?” you ask quietly.

“We’re talking about feelings here, little monster. I don’t do feelings,” he lies. You roll your eyes.

“Fine. I’ll go see if Taehyung wants to spin me around the dance floor a few…” you start to say, heading towards the door. You’re cut off by Yoongi grabbing the back of your neck and spinning you back around to face him. Your body presses to his, molding to the shape.

“You. Are. Mine,” he practically growls, a deep snarl on his face as he tries to keep the monster at bay.

But you aren’t afraid.

“Then act like it. Show me that you want me or let me walk away.” Your breaths come out rushed and uneven as the two of you stand there, nose to nose.

He thinks for a moment. Almost too long. But then he smirks, his grip on the back of your neck softening slightly.

“You’re not getting away that easily, little monster.” And then his mouth is crashing against yours, consuming, devouring.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to kiss Yoongi for weeks. You knew that you shouldn’t, but that didn’t stop you from imagining what he tasted like or how his lips felt.

The way he kisses you now is so incredibly unexpected, you have to remind yourself what planet you’re on.

It only takes a moment for you to respond, pulling him closer and molding your mouth to his, filling in the spaces with your tongues. It’s when your fingers find their way into his hair that you really begin to grasp that there’s no coming back from this. There’s no more pretending.

Your thoughts are shaken when his hands travel to the backs of your thighs, lifting you onto the stone wall of the balcony. You grip him tighter, afraid to look behind you and see the ground looming below.

“What’s wrong? You aren’t afraid of heights are you, little monster?” he teases, shoving himself between your legs and scooting you even closer to the edge of the wall.

“Anyone would be afraid of a two story drop.” You try to capture his lips again, anything to stop thinking about the possibility of falling, but he pulls back just enough to keep you wanting.

“As if I’d let you fall.” Yoongi whispers the words so quietly you barely hear them, his eyes staying on your lips.

“Maybe I already am.” You feel him stiffen, his body going rigid at your words.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Stupid, stupid girl,” he sighs. “There’s too much good in you…too much humanity for you to be talking that way.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

He stares at you for what seems like hours, gauging what could really be going through that head of yours. Then he gently kisses you again, melting away any facade either of you were trying to keep playing.

“We’re leaving,” he says after a moment of soft kisses.

“But we just got here. What about all the schmoozing we need to be doing?”

“Screw the schmoozing. I want to fuck you.” He takes one of your hands and brings it between your bodies, helping you to cup his hardening dick through his pants. “This is what you want, isn’t it, little monster? So desperate to be filled with cock.”

You whimper, licking the seam of his lips with your tongue as you palm his cock, thoughts of literally anyone who looks out the window seeing the two of you out here turning you on even more.

“Take me home, please.” You’re no longer above begging.

“I’m going to leave you in ruins.” Yoongi means for it to be a threat, something to deter you from wanting this, but it only makes you wetter. The thrill and the danger and the possibility of devastation that making this choice could cause only make you want it more.

Yoongi grabs your wrist, walking with determination until you’re back inside the party where Namjoon immediately sees the two of you making your way through the crowd.

“Yoongi, what the fuck? There’s people looking for you.” Namjoon steps in front of Yoongi but it doesn’t stop him from his mission to get to the front door.

“Tell them I’m sick.” Yoongi opens the door, presses a kiss to the top of your hand and guides you outside. You can’t help the ridiculous smile that finds its way onto your face.

“Vampires don’t get sick.” Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you really going to do this to me?”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Yoongi guides you down the front steps of the hotel, your eyes landing on Jungkook at the bottom, leaning against the car and playing a game on his phone.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks, panic crossing his usually soft features.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. We just need the car.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly while Yoongi opens the door for you to settle into the passenger seat. You’re about to grab your seatbelt when he leans down into the car and kisses you. “What was that for?”

“It may be the last bit of sweetness you get from me tonight. Enjoy it while you can.” His teeth nip at your bottom lip.

“Who said I enjoy sweetness?” You make sure he sees the way you make your dress ride up your thighs. Yoongi groans.

“Perfect little monster,” he coos, taking one last look at your exposed thighs before he shuts the car door. You watch as Yoongi brushes off Jungkook and Namjoon’s protests of him leaving this important party and gets into the driver's seat.

His long fingers grip the steering wheel tightly as he immediately punches the gas. And while you’re not afraid of the vampire sitting next to you, his driving is an entirely different story.

Luckily the drive back to the main hotel is short and you find yourself pressed to the wall of the elevator before you can even think of scolding Yoongi for his driving.

“I’ve pictured thousands of ways I’ve wanted to fuck you.” He hikes your leg over his hip. “But this is going to be quick.”

The elevator dings for the penthouse floor and with his inhuman speed, Yoongi moves you into the entry way and through the apartment, his mouth devouring yours as he deposits you onto his bed.

“No foreplay. Please just fuck me.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he licks down the column of your throat.

“Are you ready for me already?” His breath tickles your skin.

“Yes.” You take his hand and move it between your legs, your dress bunching around your hips as you push it out of the way.

Yoongi takes your hint, his fingers delving into your underwear to find your soaking pussy. He groans, pushing his fingers inside to pet your walls.

“So you are.” He sits up on his knees between your legs, throwing his suit jacket off of his shoulders and tossing it across the room.

You sit up on your elbows, watching intently as he undoes the buttons of shirt and reveals the beautiful skin of his chest and stomach. The muscles are there, but he’s also unexpectedly soft as your fingers explore the planes.

You help him the rest of the way out of his shirt, leaning up further to kiss his chest. His hands grip your hair but he doesn’t move you away, letting you traverse his skin with your lips and tongue for a moment.

“Get this off of me.” You start to reach behind you for the zipper of the dress but Yoongi has other ideas.

He reaches down and grabs your hips, flipping your body over so that you’re on your stomach and face down on the bed.

“Allow me.” His mouth is on the exposed skin of your back, kissing a wet path down your spine as he unzips the dress. You can’t help the moan that escapes you, or the way your hips push back to try and find friction. “Greedy,” he mumbles against the small of your back.

“Please, Yoongi. Just hurry up.” You slide the sleeves off of your arms so that Yoongi can pull the dress the rest of the way off. It must’ve been expensive, but he still tosses it to the floor.

When you try to roll back over onto your back, he grabs your hips and holds you in place.

“No, I think I’ll have you just like this.” You hear him take off his belt and the mattress move slightly when he removes his pants. “Hold onto something, little monster.”

There’s no time to protest; you barely have time to grab the comforter before he’s sheathing his cock inside you in one fluid motion. You fall forward on your elbows, your face meeting the bed as you cry out from the intrusion.

“Fuck…” you whine, tightening your hold on the comforter as he starts to rock his hips, burying himself to hilt each time he pumps back into you.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? So desperate for cock that you’d let a vampire defile you.” His hands hold so tightly to your hips that you know there will be bruises immediately.

“Yes, I wanted it so bad.” You can feel drool begin to form at the corner of your mouth as he fucks you harder.

“Just remember, little monster, out there you’re the perfect princess for the public to see. But in here, in my bed, you’re my good little whore.” He thrusts particularly hard on the last word, shoving your top half flat against the bed when your arms give out.

“Yoongi…” It barely comes out a whisper, but you know he hears you.

“Come here,” he grunts, leaning over your body and wrapping his arms around your torso, pulling you up to press your back to his chest, his cock staying nestled inside you as he adjusts you the way he wants.

His thrusts stay deep, but slow down slightly. One hand grips your breast while the other spreads your legs wider over his lap.

“I’m going to cum…fuck I’m so close.” Your head flops back and rests on his shoulder, sweat coating your skin.

“You’re lucky that I want to feel this pretty pussy squeeze my cock, little monster. I’m going to let you cum.” Rough fingers find your clit, sloppy circles sending you into a frenzy as you chase your orgasm.

“Right there, yes yes, right there.” Your thighs start to shake as Yoongi pulls you down further on his cock, holding you there as you come apart, squeezing his cock just like he wanted.

“Good girl. Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” He swipes your hair away from your shoulder and suddenly sinks his fangs into your throat.

His bite only elongates your orgasm…it could have been two, maybe even three orgasms all chained together. Your sight blurs at the sheer force of the climax that rolls through you.

You’re barely coherent when you feel Yoongi release inside you, hot spurts filling you up and leaking down your thighs. He moans against your neck, taking two more long pulls of blood before he pulls off, hungrily licking at the trails of blood that trickle down your throat.

Your body is completely spent as Yoongi gently lowers you onto the bed, covering you with the comforter before he gets up off the bed.

You watch with hooded eyes as he goes into his bathroom and comes back with a cloth to clean you up.

“Let me see the mess you made, baby.” He moves the covers off of your legs and cleans you up, making you whine at the contact of anything touching you there so soon. “Go to sleep.”

“I’m fine, I promise.” You snuggle deeper into the covers.

“We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.” You feel him join you in the bed.

“Talk about what?” Your eyes are too heavy to stay open.

“The contract.” His cool body presses against your back and his arm falls over your waist.

“What about it?” you mumble.

“The next phase of it, of course.” You feel his finger swipe at the blood still on your neck, popping it into his mouth.

“Phase?”

“Engagement.”

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