Venomous
Part 2 of the Ben Barnes as Dracula idea.
Part 1 here
Heavily inspired, by @thatbritishactor 's moodboards on the same topic. They're showstopping, brilliant, is the sole reason I decided to write this.
Moodboard 1 Moodboard 2
Warnings: vampire stuff, blood, biting (obviously), smut (18+), daddy kink, heavy on the blood play.
Dedicated to @phantomofmoon and @idaofinfinity
The house was tremendously large- no, not a house, a castle. Carved into the mountains and hidden in a secluded area, it amazed you how warm it could get in such a frigid place.
You were bored and hungry, but Drac was nowhere to be found. He'd given you a dark, soundproof room of your own so that you could grow accustomed to your sensitive senses. Right now, candles burned too brightly for your eyes, and the smallest sound was overwhelming. He'd managed to teach you how to deal with the other senses, smell, touch, taste, so that they weren't as overwhelming anymore. Your nails were coming along nicely, and soon you'd have a pair of carefully pointed claws to match his.
He'd explained it all to you, though, it was easier to accept than he'd anticipated, you always had a fascination with mythical creatures, and coming to terms with your new undead life was doable with time. Drac had quietly blamed Twilight for your quick acceptance, and then frowned as if he'd tasted something rancid, the look had made you laugh for the first time in days. The fine details were interesting to you. Most of the things that were popular tools for getting rid of them were just carefully crafted lies to keep them safe. Sunlight, crosses, garlic, holy water- none of it would kill them.
Not them, you remind yourself, us.
The only thing that could kill you now, truly kill you, was a spear, made of one of the rarest gems on the planet. Even if your body was destroyed, in a fire or explosion, you'd continue on as a wraith, a being without a body, forced to inhabit someone else's skin.
You didn't mind your predicament as much, he'd assured you, that with time, you'd be able to see your family again, though it concerned you that you'd be forced to watch everyone around you die.
He'd gotten your phone for you from the wreckage of the crash, but you'd been unable to look at the too bright screen, asking him to send a message to your family that you'd had a small accident and you were recovering at a nearby hospital, unable to talk to them for too long and that you'd asked someone to send this message.
They'd been obviously concerned, and when they called, Drac had answered and pretended to be your doctor, the sound of their voices had caused you to retreat into your room swiftly.
He was kind, and reassuring, and he'd been able to put them at ease and you were eternally grateful that out of all the undead out there, that he'd found you.
But right now you were irritated with him, antsy, more importantly- hungry.
It's what prompted you to open the doors to your room for the first time in days.
The sounds within the castle filled your ears, and even further outwards, till you could hear the rush of snow as it hit the leaves of the pine trees outside.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, letting the sounds overwhelm you for a moment, before focusing on one particular sound at a time.
It's then that you hear the rhythmic beating.
A heart.
The more you listen, the more you realise that there are three hearts, somewhere below you.
Your mouth waters at the thought, and then your stomach grumbles.
It couldn't hurt to leave the safety of the dark wing of the castle you were in, being led by your thirst more than anything else.
You push the door open wider, and hiss at the candles lighting the hallway.
Your eyes sting and water and you have to shut the door and stay in the dark for a moment to gather your bearings.
Maybe you would be able to navigate with your eyes closed.
You decide to give it a try, opening the door once again with your eyes closed. You can still see a bright haze through your eyelids where the candles sit, but it doesn't burn.
You smile at the realisation of your progress so far. You could adjust your hearing to be as sensitive as you wanted, listening to the beating of hearts and the moving of feet below you.
The smell of something cooking, some type of meat fills your nose and though it smells divine, your mouth doesn't water because of it.
You wander through the hallway, one hand on the wall for guidance.
You know when you're near the steps from the way the echo of your steps change to indicate a larger room, and you carefully toe down each step.
You follow the voices as they grow louder, until you're at a heavy metal door.
You can practically smell it, almost taste it, the savoury metallic substance, fresh from its source, you can't wait to pierce your teeth into skin and drink until you're full, until you can't think about another drop for a couple of hours, wondering briefly what such a delectable beating heart would taste like in your mouth.
You tug the heavy door open easily, as if it's made of nothing more than paper.
And then there are bright LED lights shining into your eyes.
Even with your eyes closed, the intensity of the beams burn your retinas until you're disoriented.
You turn away from the painful lights, but it does little to help, as the lights reflect right around the room.
Your vision is completely white, there's a loud ringing in your ear and you can't register that it's the sound of your own screams.
You're on your hands and knees, trying to navigate back into the dark, but you can't find your way out, bumping into walls and floor level furniture.
There are cold tears of distress streaming down your face, and you almost want to claw at your eyes to stop the pain.
Suddenly hands are on your skin, and though you bat them away at first, you realise they want to help, scooping you into his arms and picking you up.
A long second, and you're back in your dark room. He places you gently on your bed, but doesn't stop holding you close to his chest.
You're still sobbing, eyes still burning mercilessly, though not as badly as they were before.
When you finally realise what you were about to do, you cry harder.
The words, I'm a monster, echoes in your head, tormenting you about the atrocities you run the possibility of committing because you are hungry.
"Shhh, little one, shhh." He soothes, his hand rubbing circles into your back.
You crying turns into sniffles, the horrible burning in your eyes only turns to a mild sting. When you finally open your eyes, your vision is spotted with after-images.
"You put those lights there to keep me out." You say between sniffles, a tone of betrayal.
"A precaution, to keep them safe. They are under my protection."
"But they're food." You say petulantly, only half meaning it, but angry in the moment.
"They're people, and in exchange for my protection, they offer me their blood."
"I was hungry." You say, trying to explain.
He clicks his tongue, pushing your hair back away from your eyes.
"I know sweet girl, but you haven't come into your venom yet, and you're still learning how to bite properly. It's better for you to feed from me until you learn proper control."
You whine, burying your head into his chest. He makes you feel so safe and protected, pushes you into such an obedient and calm headspace.
"I was hungry, and you weren't here." You repeat.
You feel a kiss to your forehead, his hand stopping in the middle of your back.
"My poor, sweet girl." He empathises, and you can't help looking up into his warm eyes, a different name for him on the tip of your tongue, something you've never called someone before, but would fit perfectly to the man in front of you. You think it now, knowing you'd never grow the courage to say it out loud.
Daddy
"Are you still hungry?" He asks, unable to hear the dialogue happening in your head. You almost want to say no, curious to see if he'd insist you drink his blood, or let you starve.
But your eyes fall on his lips, and then the pale skin of his neck.
You swallow as you nod, already salivating for a taste, too hungry to play games with the gorgeous man below you.
"Words, little one."
"Yes, I'm still hungry."
A small smile graces his pink lips.
You grip the edges of his shirt, and look up at him for permission.
He nods, and you begin to unbutton his shirt with careful precision.
Your eyes fall on his rosy nipple, and you think about how he would react if you bit him there instead, over his pectoral so that you can lave at his stiff bud while you drink his blood.
You can smell your own arousal, permeating the air as you push his shirt off his shoulders, your pussy almost uncomfortably damp, but its your hunger that wins out.
As you do normally, you run the tip of your tongue carefully over the spot where his blood calls out the most. This time, you place a little kiss to the spot as your teeth elongate from your gums.
His moan vibrates his chest when your teeth pierce his skin, you let out a sound in response when his blood hits your tongue.
Your hands grip his shoulders tightly as you draw a slow mouthful of blood into your mouth. You swallow, the savoury blood, and let the hunger overtake all your other senses.
You pull back for a moment, sliding your tongue over his wounds, letting them begin to close before you're biting into him again.
His hand cups the back of your head, keeping you pressed to his throat as if you would ever be able to detach yourself from him.
"That's my good girl." He murmurs in appreciation, and when you try to adjust your hips to get more comfortable, you feel his stiff erection below you.
This time, you give an experimental roll of your hips over his clothed cock, and you're rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. His blood begins to taste sweeter, and you hum in appreciation, rutting your hips gently against his.
You want to bite him, again and again and learn the way he tastes at different points in his body. Would his wrist taste different from his neck? What about the stiff muscle of his thigh? Or the apex of his bicep?
The urge to push him onto his back overtakes you, to have him beneath you, giving you everything he has to offer, but you're concern about his reaction stops you.
You don't want him to pull away, you couldn't bear the thought of him telling you no.
When you're finally full and sated, you lick his neck for long minutes after his wounds have healed, making sure that not a drop of his blood is left behind.
"Is my bite still painful?" You ask sweetly, resting your head against his shoulder, he hasn't moved his hand from the back of your head yet.
"Not to me, but you'd hurt a human, yes, and your venom has started to slowly come in."
"My venom makes the people I bite calmer, right?"
He hums in thought for a moment.
"It makes humans calmer, yes."
You think about his wording carefully.
"Well what does it do to vampires?"
He takes in a slow breath.
"If you're feeding from a vampire, it's being done willingly, there's no need to calm a vampire. The venom does something else to vampires who bite each other."
You think you have an idea of what he's going to say next.
"Yes?" You prompt.
"It amplifies sexual arousal."
Jackpot.
"So... you-?"
"-yes little one, but don't worry about me, I'll be fine."
You're not sure what to say to him, not sure how to reassure him, and it's because you don't really know what he wants, or how he feels about you, that you're unable to decide on a course of action.
You're spared the decision when your body lets out a slow yawn, muffled by his chest.
His hand pets your hair.
"You should get some sleep, it's almost morning."
You hum in acknowledgement, pulling away from him to crawl up the bed. You keep your hand in his, pulling him along by the arm as if he's some form of oversized teddy bear.
You get under the covers, and he lies beside you, one hand on your hair giving reassuring pats.
When you finally close your eyes, you feel him move away, rising from the bed.
"Where are you going?" You ask, popping your eyes back open to look at him.
He turns back to you, and you take a long look at his nude abdomen.
"I'm letting you sleep, sweet girl, I'll see you when you wake up.
"Can you stay with me? Don't want to be alone."
He heaves out a sigh.
"Of course, sweet girl, I'll stay." He says soothingly, and you watch as he crawls back into bed beside you.
You can't resist it. You push your body closer to his, pressing your face into his chest, breathing in the scent of pine. You drag a careful finger in circles around his chest.
"Drac?" You whisper so softly, but you know he hears you.
"Yes?"
"Can I bite you here, next time?"
A beat of silence.
"Of course."
Your hand drags up to his bicep.
"What about here?"
"Sure, little one."
You hum with delight, going lower now until your fingers trace over his clothed hip bone.
"Here?"
"If you want." He confirms.
You smile, clossing your eyes blissfully.
"I want to bite you everywhere." You say finally.
You feel his cock jump in response.
It's easy to become his friend. Dracula is sweet, and kind and has some type of awkward sense of humour that makes him laugh at the strangest things. You'd sat and explained Tinder to him, and he'd laughed, and when you tilted your head in confusion, he has to explain that though times have changed, the principle behind things have remained the same, and he likes finding evidence in modern times that things never truly change.
Technology can advance how much it wants, but people will always make candles and sew quilts and paint the things they've seen, and bury their faces into some form of entertainment to ignore the people around, and look up at the stars, and make wine and kiss and love.
When he says the last thing, he doesn't meet your eye, and you know a man as old as him must have some heartbreaking story attached. You don't want to sour the mood, as you sit beside him in his snow covered garden, deciding not to pry just yet.
Though you can feel that the air is cold, it doesn't bother you, it doesn't make you shiver, and it certainly doesn't make your breath mist.
"People have been kissing the same way for centuries." You say in deep thought. He turns to you, and you look up at him easily. Snow falls and catches on the top of his head, and some on the wiry hairs on his cheek.
The corner of his mouth lifts and you know something funny is coming.
"People have been breathing the same way for centuries too, but that's not good enough for you, hmm?"
You throw you head back and laugh at his witty remarks.
"Oh, has Count Dracula always had such a smart mouth?" You ask, gently pushing on his shoulder.
He shakes his head.
"It's just something you bring out of me."
You roll your eyes dramatically.
You sit in silence for a few moments, and when a snowflake lands on your eyelash, you carefully swipe it onto the tip of your finger.
Studying it carefully, you draw in a breath when you realise that you can see the ridges of the beautiful snowflake clearly.
It doesn't melt in your hand either, your body becoming the same temperature as the environment, complying with the zeroth law of thermodynamics.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" He says beside you, and you nod in response.
"I thought it was a curse at first. But it's not so simple, I can't say something is black or white when it all exists as shades of grey."
You press the fragile snowflake between your fingers, and you grind it into dust, studying the way the ice crystals still shimmer.
"Things change. They have to."
"But it's still a water molecule." His voice interjects, "It may always be a water molecule."
You hum in thought, letting his words sink in.
"I'm curious about something." You say suddenly, changing the topic.
He looks at you in question, his hair almost white from the snow its caught and you figure you must look the same.
"I want you to bite me." You say, "I want to know what it feels like."
He studies you for a long moment.
"Why?"
"Because I bite you a lot, and I can't remember being bitten."
He smiles, gives a little shake of his head.
"My venom is quite strong, it might consume you."
You shrug a shoulder.
"I'll be fine, I just want to know what you go through everytime I feed from you."
A smile on his face.
"Okay," he says, standing up, "come."
"Wh- Can't we just do it here?"
"No, little one, I don't like the taste of cold blood."
You smile, taking his outstretched hand and following him into the house.
He takes you into a room on his side of the castle, there's a soft bed on one side, and a pile of couches on the other side. In the middle of the room is a circular stone formation, that with the flick of a switch, sputters to life and begins to warm the room.
"Would you like some wine?" He asks, reaching for a large glass decanter, and with a nod of your head, he takes out two glasses.
"Do you live here year round?" You ask.
"Not exactly, I usually leave before winter starts, and go stay somewhere warmer, I have homes in New York and Sicily among other places."
"You like the heat."
"It's easier to blend in, no worries about being ice cold to the touch, or puffs of warm air when I breathe. Makes things simpler."
He waits till you're finished glass of wine sits beside his before getting in close you you.
"Still want to do this?" He murmurs in your ear, "I have to warn you again that the effects might be too much for you to handle."
You nod your head slowly.
"I trust you, you won't hurt me, and you won't let me hurt you."
He kisses your cheek.
"You're right, sweet girl, I promised I'd keep you safe."
He pulls you onto his lap in one swift move. Pulling your t-shirt up and over your head.
"My perfect little girl." He praises, kissing over your neck, sliding the tip of his nose over your collarbone.
You make a small hum of satisfaction, tilting your head back in bliss. His fingers come up to trace the skin of your chest, circling a spot between your collarbone and the top of your breast.
"Going to bite you right here. Is that okay sweet girl?"
You want to say it so badly, the words weigh on your tongue, and ache to slip out.
Yes, Daddy.
Instead, you nod, and give a small murmur of the affirmative.
Like you do, he runs his tongue a few times over the spot, and you wonder if that's something all vampires are wired to do.
You're looking down at him when his teeth elongate into sharp points, his eyes take on a ruby red hue for a brief moment and it may be the prettiest thing you've ever seen.
Then, he's biting into you.
And your body shudders as an orgasm immediately engulfs you.
You cry out in bliss, fingers gripping his shirt tightly to keep him close, uncaring that your nails pierce through the white garment.
Then you feel him begin to pull your blood from your body, and the thought that you're inside him just as much as he's inside you makes you groan in bliss.
He takes a page from you book, pulling away and licking the spots till they close, and then he switches to the other side, above the other breast.
You have another orgasm when he bites you the second time, and your body trembles and your pussy is dripping and you feel so empty as he drinks from you.
You arch your back. He moves one hand around your waist and the other into the back of your head to secure you in place as you try to writhe in pleasure on top of him.
He doesn't take much blood from you, pulling away a few moments later, leaving you a hazy mess on his lap.
"Fuck me." You plead, when he finally looks up at you. His eyes flash red another time.
"Breathe, little one, the bite is quite potent-"
"-Noooo." You whine, interrupting him, "I don't want to breathe I want your cock inside me."
You pull at his shirt, ripping it in two straight off his body.
"Shhhh," he tries to soothe, taking your wrist in his hands, "You're not thinking straight, breathe."
Tired of hearing him speak, you lean forward and press your lips to his. He moans into your mouth and your tongue takes advantage of the moment, slipping past his lips.
The taste of your own blood coats your tongue. You trail off his mouth, kissing down his cheek and to his neck. Your teeth elongate on instinct, and you use them to scrape his skin delicately.
"Fuck me," you beg, "Please, sir."
You're on your back in seconds, his long fingers and sharp nails piercing into your neck as he holds you in place.
"Watch your filthy language with me, baby. Little girls aren't supposed to talk like that."
"Sorry. Just need you so bad." You whimper beneath him.
"Yeah?" He asks, with a little bit of condescension in his tone, "My pretty little girl wants to get filled to the brim?"
You whine, nodding your head, the pleasure and need pushing every rational thought out of your head.
"Yes, please Daddy."
You don't realise what you've said, but it shatters all of his resolve.
"Yeah sweet girl? Gonna let Daddy make you cum on his cock? Gonna scream for Daddy?"
You writhe beneath him, uncaring that your movements cause his nails to pierce your neck.
He wastes no time tearing your remaining clothes off your body.
"I'll be more gentle next time, little one, but right now I just really need to be inside you."
You nod your head in understanding, knowing exactly how he feels.
You shred his pants too, and he laughs at your enthusiasm.
His cock rests on your thigh for a moment and you're shocked by the weight of him.
"Oh, I'm not sure you'll fit." You gasp, looking down at his solid erection.
"Shhhh," he murmurs into your ear, "How about I give you a third orgasm?" He grunts, before he's leaning down and biting into your shoulder.
The reaction is instantaneous, moaning to high heaven, your back arching off the bed, he begins pushing into you slowly.
"Daddy, daddy, daddy, please." You cry out.
When you sink your fingers into his hair, he lets out a sound of displeasure, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to either side of your head.
"Gonna get you drunk on my venom, little one, until you can't say anything other than my name."
He bites into the other side of your neck, and begins rocking into you with slow, precise moves.
You can't stop begging, you can't stop crying, you can't stop pleading, you can't stop coming.
"Wanted to fuck you from the first time you bit me. Little fledgling vampire with a taste for her sire's blood. Knowing how wet you got everytime you sank those pearly teeth into me. Knew you'd be such a perfect girl for your daddy."
He's stretching you open so much, no part of you left untouched by his cock. You try to fight his hold on your wrists, but you can't figure out why.
He kisses the curve of your shoulder, dragging his teeth along, tormenting you.
His hips pick up a merciless speed, and you swear you can feel him all the way in your throat with how deep he goes.
You can't warn him, can't tell him how good you feel, the only thing you can say, with varying levels of intensity is 'please' and 'daddy'
He knows anyway, he knows you're about to have your first of many orgasms on his cock.
He angles his hips just right and you scream as you come, at the very last second, he bites into your shoulder, extending your orgasm out for a long time.
Though you barely need air, you gasp it in anyway, sucking in as much as possible to be able to manage the unbelievable rush of pleasure.
He comes a few sloppy thrusts later, pushing his cock deep into you and filling you right up to the brim with a long moan. His eyes glow red as his orgasm takes over.
He doesn't pull out of you after, instead rolling onto his back and keeping you pinned to his front.
"Sorry," he says between breaths, "I'm a little rusty."
You let out a sound of amusement.
"You have nothing to apologise for."
He hums in acknowledgement, fingers tracing over your back.
"You're such a perfect little girl."
You smile, and bury your face into his chest.
