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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 17 days

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In the Moonlight

Author's Note: This is a part of the Dancing With the Devil AU, but can be read as a stand alone. The Vamp!Rhys brain rot has taken over and there aren't enough fics to satisfy me so I wrote more ;)

Pairing: Vamp!Rhys x Reader x Vamp!Azriel

Content Warnings: SMUT, threesomes, oral (f and m receiving) blood, typical vampire stuff

Based on this post/ original fic

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You’ve always loved music, the steady flow of the strings, the heavy pulse of the drums; it’s always been something that moves and excites you, your body knows how to respond to it as if it's its basest instinct. Music was the siren song that had pulled you and Nesta to the dance floor all those years ago, as children, eager to dance and move and lose yourself in the steps of a blooming waltz that made the other mortal children dizzy. It had been one of your few chances at freedom, and you had chased that opportunity all the way to the Velaris Estate weeks ago, and had now found a new sense of freedom.

It’s still tied to music, by some humorous twist of fate. You’d learned early on that the Lord of the Estate had the set list planned: Something graceful and elegant to start, the slow thrum of the string section pushing people onto the dance floor, highlighting easy prey in those lingering on the edge with no partner to claim them. Then something more sensual, as the predators take the floor, snatching their prey with a charming bow and disarming smile. These will span several songs, get their prey comfortable with their presence, before the shift becomes something with more drums and base, music to disappear into the dark corners to.

Their ability to move so seamlessly, so flawlessly that no one suspects there might be ill intent in the gesture is still mind boggling. You stand in the shadows of the upstairs veranda, watching Rhysand and his horde move as you sip from a full wine glass, content to study for now. The bargain had never specified when Rhys was supposed to turn you, for now, you attend his parties and do your best to study them, so when the time comes you’ll be prepared.

There are new faces in the crowd tonight, less and less of your neighbors and childhood friends filling the expensive ballroom now that word had spread that you hadn’t returned home, all those weeks ago. As expected, your brother had nearly torn the Spring Estate to shreds when he’d found you gone. Nesta had apparently witnessed you sitting in Rhys’s lap--though by some magic or sheer luck, she hadn’t seen him drinking from your neck--and had gone straight to Tamlin to tell him. The betrayal had burned white hot, and not for the first time, were you thankful the ancient vampire hadn’t turned you yet, or else the destruction you might have caused in the aftermath would have made Tamlin’s look like a child’s temper tantrum. She hadn’t tried to explain herself, every one of your friends had turned their back on you, a couple of them had outright called you a whore to your face before vowing to never speak to you again. None of them were known to be tight lipped either, the whole town was sure to know that you’d “debased yourself with the Lord of Velaris”. It would have hurt less if you hadn’t spent the last couple of years protecting Nesta’s own secret lovers, but you had to admit, the newfound freedom of living here lessened the sting more and more each day. There were no governesses dictating your every outfit and hairstyle; no stewards limiting the amount of food you got at each meal to ensure you stayed pretty and thin for a would-be husband; no guards to regulate how much time you spent outside and where you could go. If you wanted to wear something, you did; if you wanted to eat you could go into the kitchens now and ask for it and the staff would do so eagerly; if you wanted to go outside and run until you got lost in the mountains, you were free to do so. There were no restrictions with Rhys, the fact alone was enough to keep you here, though the prospect of immortality pulled a little more and more each day. It wasn’t even the living forever thing, you really weren’t that interested in that part. It was the strength, the power, the freedom to be wild and unrestrained and never have to worry about being hurt or caged again. Once you were a vampire, no one could keep you locked away.

You take another sip of wine as the music begins to shift and the lights dim. Feeding time. Rhys dances beneath you with a blonde woman, the neckline of her gown so deep you can see the heavy swell of her breasts from your vantage point. You shove down the pang of jealousy you feel upon seeing those hands on someone else’s hips with another deep drink from your wine glass.

Mor dances with a female on the edge of the crowd, the darkest part of the dance floor, where the judgmental eyes of the town won’t be so quick to spot her. Cassian hasn’t danced all night, has spent the evening prowling around the refreshment table, trying to get drunk despite his accelerated metabolism making it hard. He’d hoped to make a similar bargain with Nesta all those weeks ago, but you’re pretty sure he’d stepped on her foot and she’d left scowling in search of you before she’d found you in Rhys’s lap. Poor Cassian has been moping since.

You haven’t seen Azriel all night, but that’s how he likes it. He could be as charming as Rhys if he wanted, but he likes his solitude too much to risk it. When he steps out of the shadows to your left, as if your thoughts had materialized him, it’s little surprise. Rhys had explained that every vampire had their own unique abilities, among some shared traits, and Azriel’s shadow manipulation made him an excellent hunter.

“You’re not dancing tonight?” He says as he comes to stand beside you, scared hands resting on the banister railing.

You take another sip of wine. “I didn’t know I was on the menu tonight.” A lie, Mor had helped you pick a gown with a neckline that plunged all the way down to your midsection with the intent of catching the Vampire Lord’s eye, but you had chickened out at the last minute and hid. Having the freedom to chose and the bravery to walk out in public were two very different things, but you hadn’t realized it until too late.

Hazel eyes roam the expanse of your exposed skin, the way your hair is pinned up out of the way so that the full expanse of your throat is available. It doesn’t hide the hickey’s Rhys had left a couple nights ago either, the dark marks smattered across your collarbones and lower, following the path of your gown. “So everyone knows your mine,” Rhys had purred in your ear and before the ball you had been thrilled to show them off. Until a few wandering eyes had lingered too long, the judgment clear on their faces. You’d spent the rest of the night hoping everyone would forget you’d existed.

“He’s looking for you,” Azriel says half-heartedly, eyes still exploring you. There’s a hunger there you can’t miss; that has you pressing your thighs a little tighter together. Azriel is as devastatingly handsome as Rhys is, and this is not the first time you’ve noticed the attention he gives you, but it has never gone anywhere. Especially not when his sire is the one leaving all these marks on your throat.

“He seemed plenty preoccupied with that blonde,” you reply.

A half-smile creases the vampire’s usually stoic face. “Jealous, little one?”

“No,” you say. “Just observing.”

The grin remains as he holds out a hand in silent invitation and when you take it, you can’t help but wonder how those large, scarred hands would feel on your thighs, spreading you open…

The world spins and flips as Azriel shadow steps the two of you down into what they call the Den, the unlit corners of the ballroom where they can feed in near privacy. There’s no doors to lock, though there are several glamors in place to keep wandering eyes from getting suspicious.

Mor and a newly turned Emerie are already sharing a female on a couch in the corner, and the blonde winks at you as she sinks her fangs deeper into her prey.

On the opposite side of the Den, nursing a glass of whiskey under the light of the full moon peeking through the curtains, is Rhys. He looks like a god in this lighting, violet eyes glowing in the dimness. You can’t help but notice that he sits alone, his dance partner nowhere to be seen. While it’s never been discussed that you’re the only human he’s feeding on, a part of you is relieved to see that he hasn’t taken anyone else. It’s a strange sort of satisfaction, knowing there’s something in your blood that keeps him coming back again and again.

Violet eyes watch your every step forward with the intensity of a jungle cat on the hunt. “There you are, Darling,” he purrs. “I was looking for you.”

“Liar,” you tease.

He makes himself more comfortable in the large wing-backed chair, legs spread and you can’t decide if you want to climb in his lap or get on your knees for him more.

“Did you spook your dance partner?”

“No,” he says as he brings the whiskey back to his lips and takes a slow drink. “She was dull and she kept stepping on my toes.”

“You poor baby,” you croon and he grins as he sets the whiskey down on a small side table.

“I would have been spared if you hadn’t decided to be a wallflower tonight,” he replies, hand tapping at his thigh for an invitation for you to come sit. “What’s bothering you?”

The slit in your skirts makes moving them out of your way easy as you climb into his lap, knees bracketing his hips. Every time you think you’ll enjoy it less, but there is no feeling quite like this one, you could sit here forever. “I-”

Rhys presses his lips over a bruise on your neck.

“I was going to come down, but,” the words catch in your throat a bit, your cheeks flushed. “I think I should have worn something else.”

Slender fingers brush over your exposed skin making a shiver run down your spine. “Why would you do that?” He counters. “You look breathtaking. Doesn’t she, Az?”

You’ve almost forgotten the other vampire was still standing there, still watching in that silent, shadowy way of his. When you throw a glance at him over your shoulder, he’s standing with his hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed into the exposed bit of your thigh from where the dress is split.

“Absolutely sinful,” he says softly.

Now you’re really blushing. “I-I was hoping you’d like it,” you stammer. “I just… I don’t like when people are looking at me.”

“I do like it,” he says so lowly that heat begins to build in your core. “So much so that I had to stop myself from taking you against the railing over and over again.” Teeth scrape lightly over your skin, teasing, not quite tasting you yet.

“Az was thinking about it too,” he hums into your skin. “You should hear the things he thinks about you.”

“Rhys-” Azriel begins, the apology on his lips, but Rhys pulls away from your neck to motion him over.

“What do you think, little one, should we give him a little taste?” You’ve never been more aware of your own body than you are with Azriel at your back, and the firm planes of Rhys at your front.

You glance back and forth between them, at the tension that rolls off Azriel, at the hunger that chases your every motion in Rhys’s eyes. In your mind he says, “It’s your choice, Darling.”

“You-you won’t be mad?”

His laugh is a beautiful thing, even in your mind. “Azriel and I have shared many females. Cassian too. I enjoy it, as long as my partner does too. And I know that you’ve thought about him, it’s hard not to, but only if you really want to.”

You’ve been studying all of them: The way they hunt, the way they move, what separates them from humans and other vampires alike. Rhys is refined in his ability to hunt, uses his charm and his wits to bait prey into the Den; he makes feeding an art form, something graceful and dazzling, an allure only someone who’s done this for a long time can make possible. Cassian is messy, he likes to splatter blood when he feeds, and while he’s calculating and strategic in the initial hunt, he has no qualms getting dirty. Mor thrives in the dark corners of the ballroom, meeting in secret with her lovers because she does not trust people enough to bring a stranger into the Den. And Amren, well you’ve only met her once, and she’d traded some of her books for a mere drop of blood from your wrist before she disappeared again. But Azriel, you haven’t really figured out. He always hovers at the edge of the crowd, only speaks or feeds when he needs to, as if denying himself the pleasure the others chase will absolve him of whatever darkness lingers in his past. You know it’s there, have heard it hinted at, but no one will say it out loud. The more you try to learn about them, the more a mystery Azriel remains, and you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t curious to see how he feeds compared to Rhys.

“I do.”

And there is no judgment there. Unlike everyone else tonight. The freedom to choose, to want, is enough to make you toss your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss the tip of his nose. Anywhere else he might be regarded as a monster of the night, but here, like this, you’ve never felt safer.

Rhys presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “And who am I to deny my little pet anything?”

Azriel’s hands settle on your hips, that immortal strength never failing to make you feel fragile and small in their grip. It sends a shiver of delight through you; there’s no denying how much you love the freedom of handing over your power and knowing they won’t abuse it.

His warm breath fans your neck as he brings his lips to your exposed throat. “Been thinking about this since you arrived.”

Rhys nips at where your neck meets your collarbone, hands skimming your sides until he finds your breasts, nipples peaked through the thin fabric. “How would you like to taste her first?”

Teeth scrape over your pulse point, savoring the rapid beating of your heart. “Turn her around.”

They move you together, fingers digging into your hips as you're positioned with your back to Rhys’s chest, legs spread by his knees. Your skirts get caught, bunched up around your hips, baring most of your legs and you give a little squeak of surprise as you try to close them, to spare what’s left of your dignity, but there’s no room as Azriel kneels between both yours and Rhys’s legs.

Heat pools in your core, even as your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “Someone is going to see us!” You squeak, voice more shrill than you would have liked it to be. You want this, you want it more than you’ll ever allow yourself to say out loud, but there is a crowd nearby and even with the glamor in place, it is still a far more compromising position than you’ve ever been in. At least before, your skirts hid your coupling, but there’s no hiding like this, as Rhys loops an arm around your waist and sinks his fangs into your neck.

The shadows that leak from Azriel drift off his broad shoulders, shimmering and darkening, as if they’re absorbing the moonlight seeping through the window. “Not unless you want them to,” he says as those scared hands drag up your soft skin.

Your hips buck despite yourself, body aching to be touched; for more, more, more. The aphrodisiac in Rhys’s venom takes hold quickly, makes your whole body molten. The combination of pain and pleasure makes you close your eyes and lean your head back against Rhys’s shoulder.

“Good girl,” Rhys purrs into your mind so he doesn’t have to release his grip on your neck. “Just relax, let us take care of you.”

Azriel must be linked into your conversation, because he says in your mind, “There’s not much room for creatures like us in temples, but I’ll worship here just the same,” as his own fangs sink into the tender flesh of your inner thigh.

It’s a far more tender spot than you thought it would be, a whimper of pain escaping you, body rocking back into the hard planes of Rhys’s chest and the growing bulge in his pants to try and escape. Their combined grip on you keeps you from getting far, but that whimper turns into a moan as Rhys drags a hand down between your legs to give you some relief. He chuckles into your mind when he finds you’re not wearing any underthings, but the slit in your skirts had made you nervous that someone would see the lacy underthings that kept appearing in your drawers if you moved too fast.

“Fuck,” Azriel moans as he unlatches his fangs from your thigh, fingers playing in the bit of blood that trickles out the puncture wounds. “She’s so sweet!”

Rhys, never one to make a mess, laps at what escapes from the wounds he made at your throat before saying, “I told you she was.”

Hazel eyes narrow into the teasing strokes the other vampire is making between your legs, watching with rapt attention the way Rhys spreads you open as he licks your blood off his lips. Vampires, you’ve noticed, have a strange sort of stillness about them, they can become still as statues, unmoving, never blinking, it was still nerve wracking, especially now that you know that predatory stillness comes right before they pounce, and Azriel has that same look about him, right before he leans in and licks a stripe up your center.

Rhys chuckles in your ear as you moan and try one more time to squirm away from their dual ministrations, body overwhelmed as he curls a finger inside you and Azriel follows with his tongue.

You’re going to reach your high embarrassingly fast at this rate, especially when Rhys’s free hand slides your top to the side so he can roll a nipple between his fingers. You squeeze your eyes shut, one hand reaching behind you to tangle in Rhys’s hair, the other in Azriel’s to try and ground yourself. The intensity of both their venom in your bloodstream has heightened everything beyond what you’d already thought possible, your skin burning, coated in sweat from this alone. Their efforts are somehow too much and not enough and you’ve lost the presence of mind to tell which of their names you’re crying out first, it might be both of them.

Azriel feasts on you like a male starved, and the shadows not making a shield around the three of you writhe eagerly over your thighs, dusting your heated skin with cool touches that make you buck your hips as best you can against their master’s grip. Rhys adds a second finger, using your gathering wetness and Azriel’s spit to spread you open further, giving the other male more access to you, his nose brushing your clit, chin absolutely soaked in the mess you’re making. The move has you panting, stars blurring across your vision as an orgasm tears through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper, body shaking from your high.

Rhys peppers kisses along your neck and shoulders as Azriel pulls back, licking your release off his lips. “No wonder you’ve been hiding this one from the rest of us,” he says huskily. “I could spend all night like this.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little one?” Rhys purrs in your ear, breath tickling your still flushed skin. Their venom hasn’t worn off yet, body still not satiated, still begging to be touched and claimed. There’s not a chance you can close your legs, the evidence of your still budding arousal leaking onto his pants.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Which one of us do you want first, hm?”

How are you supposed to choose? There are too many things you want and it’s all getting muddled in your head. “Both.”

It’s Azriel’s deep rumble of a laugh that skitters across your skin as he says, “You can’t take both of us in this body, little one.” Scarred hands skim your exposed thighs, fingers kneading into the bite marks that are quickly turning into a bruise. “Humans are so fragile.”

And damn do you certainly feel it like this, tucked between the two of them. They could so easily break you, so easily overpower you. It’s thrilling and terrifying all at once.

“Want…” your cheeks heat, a blush crawling its way up your neck and Rhys runs his tongue over it with a chuckle.

“Tell us what you want, Darling.”

You shiver, despite the flush of your damp skin. “Want to taste you then.”

You watch with rapt attention as those hazel eyes widen, the golden ring thinning until there is nothing but pupil as he processes what you’re saying. Still, you grind yourself down on Rhys’s bulge as you reach for the laces on Azriel’s pants, hoping he gets the hint as well.

“Greedy little thing,” Azriel tuts, but he steps closer anyway, letting you figure out how to get the laces untied in the moonlight. “I don’t think you’ve properly trained your pet, Rhys.”

Rhys’s fingers dip into the tender flesh of your hips mercilessly as he grinds you back against his erection, a rumble of a moan echoing through his chest. “Don’t want this one trained,” he purrs. “They taste better when they’re wild.”

You manage to get the laces undone, hands shaking a bit when you realize what you’ve just gotten yourself into. Rhys is a lot on his own, Azriel is… bigger than you expected. A lot bigger, his cock heavy and erect against his stomach.

They must be having their own mental conversation, when you pause to consider how to even go about this, Azriel suddenly reaches out to grab you by the hair, pulling you forward as Rhys moves your skirts out of the way. Their movements are in perfect sync and you don’t know whether you should hiss from the sting of those large hands in your hair or moan as Rhys rubs the tip of his cock against your center. The sound that comes out of you is a little bit of both in the end.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhys inquires as if there could possibly be any thought in your head other than how much you need the both of them right now. Do they not share the same ache you feel? How are they not consumed by this thing that begs beneath your skin to be touched and soothed and filled?

You lean forward just enough to lick Azriel’s tip, catching a bead of pre-cum on your tongue as the male’s fingers tighten in your hair, a hiss escaping him. “Very sure.”

“Tap my thigh twice if it gets to be too much,” Rhys orders.

You nod your understanding as he slides slowly into you, letting you get adjusted to the feel of him from this angle. He’s deliberately slow, gliding in inch by inch, making your eyes roll back into your head, all your focus on the feel of him instead of tending to Az.

“I see she gets her greediness from you,” Azriel teases.

You have to brace yourself against Azriel’s hips as Rhys rocks your forward, chuckling. “Just because I said I’d share, doesn’t mean I’m not going to have my fill.”

Stars dance across your vision as he hits an angle inside you he hasn’t reached before, mouth falling open as pleasure licks its way up your spine.

Azriel grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him when all you want to do is squeeze your eyes shut under the pleasure. “Are you gonna put that pretty little mouth to use?”

You run your tongue over your lips, whimpering as Rhys settles fully inside you, “Mmhhmm,” is all you can manage to get out before he’s guiding you down to his leaking cock.

“Been thinking about this for a long time,” Az whispers. “Always wearing that pretty shade of lipstick that would look so good smeared across my cock.”

You swirl your tongue over his tip again and his hips jerk involuntarily. It’s a greedy sort of satisfaction you get in knowing that you can reduce a thousand year old vampire to this with just your tongue, and you want to see how much farther you can push him. Keeping a hand on his hips for balance, you use the other touch him, tracing a line down the underside of his shaft that has him hissing as the muscles in his abdomen tighten.

Rhys takes as much time sliding out of you as he had sliding in, setting a leisurely pace you know is to help you get comfortable with this setting. As tight as his own muscles are, you know he’s holding back, and you’re grateful for it, as you start to take Azriel in your mouth. It’s going to take time to get used to, you have to focus all your effort into breathing out your nose and slackening your jaw. There’s no way you’re going to be able to fit all of him.

“Just like that,” Az moans, using the hand in your hair to guide you down further.

“Look so pretty like this,” Rhys encourages as he trails soft kisses over your spine. He’s far more gentle with you than a vampire ought to be, and you can’t help but think he might be getting attached to you; a notion that would have sounded absurd weeks ago, but makes your heart stutter a little now.

“Feels so good,” you tell him mind to mind.

He slides back into you with a groan, just a little more forcefully than before, making your head bob down Azriel’s cock until he hits the back of your throat. Az moans louder than someone who is usually so stoic ought to and you have to release him for a second to catch your breath.

He gives you mere seconds before he’s hurriedly pulling you back, groaning like he can’t bear to not have your mouth around him anymore. Rhys sets his pace to match, giving you a rhythm to follow as you get a hand around the parts of Az you can’t get your mouth around.

This is a pleasure you didn’t know you needed; the way they both moan and pant over you has you rocking your hips back into Rhys, your hand pumping a little harder around Az. As much as you want them to ruin you, you want to do the same to them.

Rhys’s fangs scrape over your shoulder, fingers tightening into your hips in a move you know will leave bruises. He’s getting closer to the edge, all his praises whispered in pants against your skin.

Az throws his head back as he hits the back of your throat once, twice, then a third time, the muscles in his abdomen tightening with every thrust.

They’re both so close, you not far behind, especially when Rhys slips his hand between your legs again.

“Fuck,” Az whispers. With his head thrown back like that, eyes pinched shut, muscled body bathed in the moonlight, he looks every bit a god. And if his tongue between your legs counts as worship, then so should this as you take him as deep as you can without gagging, face a mess of spit and pre-cum.

“Gonna cum,” he warns.

Rhys’s thrusts are getting harder, the chair groaning beneath him as he fucks up into you. This is usually where he likes another taste of you, you’re used to the routine of it, ready for him to sink his fangs into your shoulder, though the force of it this time is different, as if he’s losing control, the bite sloppy, teeth scraping against your skin before they push in.

Your whole body tenses at the sensation of a thousand year old vampire losing a bit of his usual control, pleasure building white hot in your core. You want to see him a complete mess one of these days.

It’s your moan around his cock that pushes Azriel quickly over the edge, warm cum spurting in your mouth before he can pull away from you. Azriel, quite, broody Azriel groans and pants as he cums, the sound like music to your ears as you drink him down. His hand still hasn’t left your hair, now scrapping gently against your scalp as you release him with a pop that turns into a squeal as Rhys bites down on your shoulder a second time.

One more thrust, then a second before your own release barrels through you, white hot in the buzz of sensations swirling around your head. Your own release chases Rhys into his and he jerks forward with a cry as he spills inside you.

You fall back against his chest as you come down from your high, body trembling, breath escaping in pants.

Azriel reaches out and wipes a bit of the mess he made on your chin with his thumb, muttering, “Beautiful.”

Still catching his breath, Rhys presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek, and judging by the wetness on his lips you think there might still be some blood on them, but you’re too blissed out to care.

“Did so well,” he praises in your ear, voice still low and husky.

You raise a hand to card your fingers through his hair, eyes drifting shut, beyond satiated. If someone had told you this would have happened because you’d decided to sneak into a party and dance with a stranger, you wouldn’t have believed them in the slightest, but now, it doesn’t matter how long it takes for him to fulfill his end of the bargain. There are new freedoms to be found still, new pleasures to experience. You know things will be different once he turns you, and you’re not ready to feel so different yet. Right now, you like this thing between you. It’s good. Freeing.

“I’m glad I met you,” you admit softly.

“How very human of you to say,” Azriel teases as he fixes his pants. Despite his words, once he’s done, he still leans down to kiss your forehead.

“You like that I’m human,” you counter.

Rhys manages to get you repositioned so he can stand and carry you upstairs to his room, where you know a warm bath will be waiting for the two of you. “That we do, little one,” he purrs. “There’s still so much more to explore before you turn.”

#rhysand x reader #Rhys x reader #Rhys x reader smut #azriel x reader #azriel x reader smut #vamp!rhys #vamp!azriel #Rhys x reader x azriel #acotar fics #Rhys fics #azriel fics #my writing #my fanfiction #smut #poly!batboys #batboys x reader #batboys x reader smut

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mnlssnight · 7 months

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Vampire Appreciation Week 2023

↳ Day 5: Favorite vampire fiction(s) /first vampire obsession

↳ Edward Cullen/Bella Swan & Mina Murray/Dracula from Twilight + Dracula 2013

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morpheusdreamt · 11 months

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Heaven is not fit to house a love

Like you and I

#borderlands #handsome jack #rhys strongfork #rhack #rhys the company man #vamp au #my art #here’s another piece i’ll probs not fully render orz #why is coloring so difficult ;-;#its been sitting in my wips for a bit and idk where to even start bc i get v overwhelmed v quickly #just looking at it #lots of self-imposed pressure to fully render stuff #when i can also #just not #better to just yeet it into the void lol #thinkin i might take a break from this au too and focus on somethin else #for a bit

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igotsnothing · 8 months

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"I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour. I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing, dark and smart." -Rilke

#the sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #the sims 4 edit #the sims 4 vampires #rhys hausmann #Ἀθάνατοι #this pose #if you create vamps #you've used this pose #ammiright #it's iconic #and i love rilke #helgatisha #yes he is an obsession #one of many

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t00thpasteface · 1 year

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"does teldrana have A Song?" well, nobody in particular, i'm glad you asked. it's Demon Woman by flight of the conchords.

#fyi the vocalist singing the verses in this is the guy who played vladislav in the WWDITS movie so he's got the vamp street cred #bc of course every taika project has to involve jemaine bret and/or rhys in some capacity #shebbz shoutz #teldrana

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amineiscariah · 2 years

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I loved this movie ,because of Jonathan Rhys Meyers and absolutely this scene, reference to his previous work as DRACULA 2013 (Series) and still one of my favorite show.

Movie : Dangerous game: The legacy of Murders 2022

#jonathan rhys meyers #dracula #horror movies #classic horror #vampire #gothic #vamp #vampiric #vampire aesthetic #halloween #scary movies #movies #dracula book #bbc dracula #blog post #film stills #reference

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wrathbites · 2 years

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"You will control yourself aboard this ship, or we'll make you."

"I'd like t'see you try, lady."

Kaidan slips between them before they can advance on one another, fingertips sparking blue with the threat of knocking them both on their asses.

"Enough. His dietary requirements aren't up for debate, Lawson. So long as he's aboard, they will be accounted for."

"We can't just let him feed on the crew!"

"You'll no be lettin' me do anythin' -"

"He'll get what he needs from me." Kaidan snaps, effectively ending the argument.

#WrathWIPs #this is the 2nd vamp!Rhys AU lol #I have several now rip

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imxnotxhere · 6 months

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Azriel Fic Recs

** Updated 25/02/2024 **

A collection of amazing fics I think everyone should read. Also an appreciation for the writers that carry this fandom on their back.

One Shots:

@tadpolesonalgae

unchained - smut - really hot, i think there's going to be more parts but im not sure

stockholm syndrome - smut, dark!az - please check the warnings before reading!

birthday girl - fluff - very very cute

dreamy - smut - i think everyone needs soft dom!az

@azsazz

the caress of murder and moonlight - smut, rhys x azriel x reader - "Rhysand and Azriel are having a secret meeting out in the woods. Upon hearing your scream, the race to save you, and you thank them in the only way you know how."

after hours - smut, modern au, office au - "You and Az work in the same office and you've been crushing on each other for quite some time. Late at the office one night, he decides to do something about it."

body and soul - vamp!az au, smut - recommend checking the other parts

dirty work - smut

leisurely - fluff

@leafsandstarlight

forced revelations - fluff - "While on a mission with Azriel, reader is tricked by a creature into revealing that her feelings for the Shadowsinger go beyond mere friendship."

bad idea, right? - smut - "You stopped sleeping together months ago, but when Azriel invites you back to his place after seeing you at Rita's you just know you're going to fall right back into his bed."

@acourtofmenandthirst

love you in the dark - angst (really heavy on the angst)

@azrielhours

soft spot - smut, fluff - "Azriel is very particular about his lovers; typically hard-hearted women chosen so they don’t develop an emotional attachment. Reader is one of these lovers, except she’s the sweetest and cheeriest on his roster. This causes Az to begin breaking his rules about intimacy, especially when she unwittingly ends up at his home for work one evening and spends the night."

take care - fluff - "There Was only One Bed trope, reader and Az stay at an Inn overnight, they take care of each other."

i want you to rest - fluff - 10/10 comfort fic - "Reader has a nightmare while on a mission w the boys. Azriel comes to the rescue, brings her to his room to comfort her. She doesn’t want to sleep so he stays with her through the night."

lessons on relief - smut - "Azriel is the last of the boys to lose his virginity"

@azrielbrainrot

i'll be here - fluff - "You feel a little out of place at a celebration in the House of Wind and a certain Shadowsinger comes to the rescue."

such a perfect place to start - fluff - "Something happens that has you questioning the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger."

maybe we could be the start of something - fluff, modern au, band au - Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there."

darling i'd wait for you even if you didn't ask me to - fluff, modern au, band au - "You have a really bad day and Azriel is there to help you through it."

@serpentandlily

no going back- angst - "Azriel has been your mate, your husband, your love for centuries. But a certain Archeron sister has him questioning your relationship after all this time. You soon find out that there are simply things that can not be unsaid or undone. And sometimes, there are things you can’t come back from."

@fever-fluff

take my hand - angst, fluff - "Azriel really wants to hold your hand, but he's afraid that he'll hold it too tight."

@writingcroissant

just a little crush - fluff - "Everyone secretly longs for Azriel, but Azriel only longs for her."

hands - smut - "Azriel has really nice hands. And he knows how to use them, too."

@azrielscrown

innocence - smut, fluff

@gothicbabydollz

azriel x archeron!sister!reader - smut

@honeybeefae

desperate times - smut - "While tending to Elain's garden you come across a mysterious flower with an even more mysterious pollen. As the effects of it start to hit you, you have to fend for yourself to get the edge off...or do you?"

@writingsbychlo

be yours - fluff - "you ask azriel how it's possible he's still single."

@lalacliffthorne

idiot - smut - "a fight gets out of hand, and suddenly, everything´s turned upside down"

@safetypinxtales

lonely with you - angst, fluff - "it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely."

@prythianpages

i've been waiting for you - "Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate."

Series:

@tadpolesonalgae

i can't bring myself to hate you - angst, smut (only one chapter for now at least) - this fic is my roman empire, literally obsessed with this. prepare for the pain and to kind of want to hit azriel over the head

the dregs of tragedy - mer!az

eat you up - smut, dark!az - please check the warnings at the beginning! if you're ever in a mood for dark!az this is the perfect remedy (stockholm syndrome is a sort of epilogue? for this)

teeth and talons - smut, demon!az - "you’re accused of witchcraft and sacrificed to the shadow creatures, only to be saved by their ruler who’s suspiciously in sudden need of a bride…"

@azsazz

cupid's chokehold - fluff, angst - this is such an interesting concept - "You are a Cupid, a nearly extinct creature of Prythian. When you get caught trying to shoot Elain with your arrow, well, it's a little hard to explain what you're trying to do."

@leafsandstarlight

inadvertently yours - fluff, angst, smut, fake relationship and arranged marriage are classics for a reason - "As Eris Vanserra’s most trusted spy, you‘ve found yourself spending a surprising amount of time with the Night Court’s Spymaster. When your rendezvous with Azriel is discovered by High Lord Beron, the only way to protect the alliance is to pretend that you and Azriel are madly in love."

annual visit - fluff, smut - human reader, modern(?) au - "Each year on Halloween, Azriel visits the mortal lands with his friends to partake in the human debauchery that occurs. When he meets reader at a local bar, he can't take his eyes off her no matter how hard he tries."

@pellucid-constellations

of oblivious minds - fluff - "You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore."

@utterlyazriel

how long have i searched for you? an eternity my love - fluff - "azriel finds his mate in the most inopportune time and he convinces himself you haven't sought him out for good reason. he couldn't be more wrong."

@azrielbrainrot

i laugh like me again, she laughs like you - angst - "Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time."

the devel i revel in - demon!azriel - "Your duties take you into the forest often but one day you feel compelled to explore further. What could go wrong?"

@acourtofwhatthefuck

bluebird - some fluff and angst for now

studious part 2 - smut

@lalacliffthorne

bat boys roommates - fluff, modern roommates au - there's multiple parts to this au and it's azriel x reader but rhys and cass appear a lot as reader's roommates

#azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel fic rec #azriel #acotar

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azsazz · 1 year

Text

Run Baby Run

Summary: Anon Request: For the vampire Rhys.. you choose 🫣

Warnings: Descriptions of blood.

Word Count: 1,603

Notes: Why vamp!Rhys kinda...🥵

_________________________________________

“You,” he prowls, caging you in. Hands planted on either side of your head, his biceps strain against the tight fabric of his finely pressed shirt. You can feel the chill radiating off him, cutting through the already cool night like a blade made of ice. Goosebumps break out across your flesh, but you will your body still as the spider-like shivers claw up your spine. Your heart stutters in your chest and you catch the gleam of his elongated canines glinting in the bright moonlight. “Don’t smell like the Night court, and you must not be from here because if you were, you’d know better than to walk alone at night.”

He trails a finger down your cheek, and you flinch at how frozen it feels against your hot cheeks. Your breath hitches in your throat and you press your palms into the building behind you to ground yourself, gaze slipping away from his intense violet eyes to stare at the embroidered collar of his shirt instead.

The Night Court insignia stares straight back at you.

Vampire. You want to cry, to knee him in the balls and run screaming up the streets, all the way back into the inn. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll make it. The lock will slide shut and you can hide underneath the thick quilt, far, far away from the monster before you, from the ones lurking in the night.

The corner of his mouth pulls into a smirk, and he nods, dropping the arm keeping you before him. “Go ahead and run, darling. Let’s see how far it gets you.”

You gulp, eyes flickering up on a moment of their own will to look at him again. He’s devastatingly handsome, straight features and dark hair pristinely cut and styled. His skin lacks the tan glow of life but if you squint you might just be able to make out the barely there color of his lips, the fangs peeking out at you.

But those eyes, rich violet and glowing with excitement. He looks ready for a hunt, as if it would be an absolute honor to chase you through the streets and hold you down as he takes what he wants from you. It makes you wonder how he might look afterwards, disheveled hair and pupils blown wide. How he’d hold you and the sounds he might make when he gets that first taste of the heating blood running through your veins.

You just wish your blood wasn’t the only thing he was after.

It all comes tumbling back to you in an instant. The thick crimson drinks at the bar, thickly coating the lips of the face drinking them. That unnatural grace they all seemed to have, twisting their hips and beckoning you towards them with shimmering eyes and tight-lipped smiles. All to hide their fangs, you realize now, knees shaking.

The smell of metal hung heavy in the air, lustful and heady, and you realize that the far couple you’d seen on your way out of the bathroom hadn’t been making out, but she’d been feeding off him, sucking the blood straight from his neck.

Your stomach roils as you try to swallow back the acid creeping up your throat.

“The people in the clubs,” you breathe. Your dress is too tight around your chest, you can hardly breathe.

“Yes,” he encourages, smile growing as you seem to be realizing just how much danger you’re in. Vampires rule the court, but he’s aware that you don’t truly understand the extent of the situation you find yourself in right now. “All vampires.”

Your brows knit together as your startled gaze meets his. He looms over you, shifting closer as your heart races in your chest. You think you hear the soft inhale he makes, know that he’s breathing in the scent of your blood by the way his lips part and he flicks his tongue against his teeth like a viper.

“But the ones in the cafes,” you stutter, mind racing, “They were eating.”

“Vampires,” he confirms, his hands sliding down the wall an inch.

“What about the ones–”

“Let me save you the time, darling. All of my people are vampires.”

“Oh,” your response is a defeated exhale. You don’t know what to do, how to get out of this situation. Surely if you were able to get away from the tall, handsome male before you, you’d wind up someone else’s dinner if all his people are– “Oh.”

He hums, grin going wicked. You watch his sharpened teeth press lightly into the stretched skin of his lower lip. “That’s right,” he drawls, “I’m Rhysand. High Lord of the Night Court.”

This is so much worse than you thought.

“Rhysand,” you can’t help but breathe, eyes locked on his. His name tastes like the stars, fresh and bright and it makes you want to wish.

The slip of his name from your lips makes him still, pupils dilate as something within your own chest stirs. The feelings pull the breath from your chest in a gasp. It nearly hurts, feels like your heart is being tugged from the confines of your bone and flesh. You feel like you can almost see it, the stardust he’s made from intertwining with the shimmering gold of the entity of your soul given form. They weave together like light and dark, shadows weaving themselves between rays of silken sun, tying together in an intricate pattern, his soul filling all the holes of yours and yours, his.

Rhys stumbles into you as the strings pull taut, heaving chest to heaving chest as the feeling in your chest dies down. It stings like icicles are running through your veins and this time when you shudder, it’s against his firm front, and his hands fall from the wall you’re pressed up against to your arms, steadying you.

He can’t look away from you. He’ll never be able to again, and all of the instincts that were telling him to sink his fangs into your neck and taste the warm blood against his lips are raging at him to protect. Protect his mate, looking so small before him, not a vampire, but an ethereal fae that had intrigued him from the very start. Even if it weren’t for the blood running through your veins, there had been a pull that had made him want to follow you, made him want to sink to his knees and use those fangs to pleasure you instead of taking from you. He had wanted to give, and the High Lord was usually one to receive, all the vampires he let entertain him had been nothing compared to this very moment. Rhys has been waiting for this for long enough.

“My mate.” His voice is a whisper, one of disbelief. He can’t seem to force himself to step away not because his body will not physically allow him to, but because he doesn't want to part from you. He feels like he’s been away from you for far too long, like he can breathe at full capacity again even though he doesn’t need to. For the first time in forever he finally feels warm. It has been so long that he’d forgotten it, like early morning rays of sunshine shining down on him, touching his soul.

Rhys lifts a hand like he wants to touch your cheek, but he draws away at the last second. The hungry glint in his eye has been replaced by a soft look, transforming his face completely, leaving him looking even more handsome than before, like you’re the one turned predator and can break him at any moment.

He’d let you.

Tentatively, you find his hand, taking it in your own. It’s cold and his fingers stick to your skin the way ice does in the winter. You lead him towards your cheek, brushing his knuckles softly across your rosy cheeks as Rhys watches, unblinking.

Rhys draws in a sharp breath at the gentleness in which you move. He’d wanted to ravage you before, when the bond had made its mark known, but he’d forgotten just how fragile fae beings can be. Having been surrounded by vampires and fae that had thrived off his harsh nature, it had simply slipped his mind that he was capable of such things.

“My mate,” you echo. The sweetness of your voice has him growling in response, hand slipping from yours to place over your throat, brushing his thumb against the bob of your throat in a rough, yet tentative gesture.

Your mate leans down, nosing his way across your throat, scenting the luscious blood that rushes in response to the graze of his teeth.

“Let me take you home, where I can show you how much finding my mate means to me.” He tilts his head to look up at you, violet eyes wild with desire. It turns your insides molten, heat blossoming between your legs. He’s so close that if he needed to breathe, you’d be sharing the same air. If you nod your agreement, you’ll be able to taste his lips.

That gorgeous smile reappears as he catches the flicker of your gaze to his lips and back. Rhys brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, smirking at the scent when not just your blood consumes his senses.

“Or we can stay right here and let the entire court know that I’ve finally found you?” He questions and you breathe a shaky laugh that he swallows whole.

“Take me home, High Lord,” you answer, sliding your hand into his. “Take me home, my mate.”

#rhysand #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #vampire!rhys #azsazz #acotar #acomaf #acowar

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scr-ppup · 2 months

Text

Vampire NPTs

— :3c

— @id-pack-archive

— Requested by @xxlolbatxx , apologies for taking so long!

[ID/A dark red line with gold lining and a repeating star and half moon pattern./end ID]

Names —

Rhys, Vampira, Bloodette, Lucian, Lucious, Adonis, Adrian, Alaric, Alfonso, Avenal, Adrienne, Hesperia, Ivy, Juliet, Feronia, Gossamer, Guinevere, Drusilla, Damienne, Belladonna, Onyx, Ash/Asher, Ashlin/Lyn, Bara, Dali, Gorey, Mercer, Mortem, Stoker

Pronouns —

Vamp/vamps, vamp/vampir/vampireself, blood/drunk/bloods, night/nights, blood/bloods, bit/bite, bite/bites, bite/vamp, undead/undeads, bit/bitten,

Titles — prn* is replaced with your pronouns.

The vampire who stalks during the night, the night veiled sucker, the blood sucker, prn* who has turned hundreds, prn* who sustains prn* on blood, the bitten one, the bitten maiden/lady/lord/etc, prn* without mirror image, prn* who lives among the darkness, prn* who has been awakened, prn* who has been turned

#npts #npt pack #npt ideas #npt list #npt suggestions #npt #pronoun ideas #pronoun suggestion #neo pronoun #neopronoun #name suggestion #name ideas #: koiran nappulat

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 2 months

Text

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.”

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