your beloved girlfriend recently turned you into a vampire at your request, but there's one thing she forgot to warn you about — just how much your growing fangs would hurt
content: vampire!caitlyn, vampire!reader, biting, teething, sfw, intended lowercase, second person pov, made up vampire lore don't fact check me, they have blood in this, and tears, fluff, mentions of 'blood servants', reader is very obsessed, first time but not in the way you think, praise.... word count: 0.9k note: take a shot everytime i say neck (please don't)
"how did you cope?" you whine, eyes wet with unshed tears. there's an icepack pressed to the side of your mouth, but it's only enough to slightly dull the pain, not stop it completely.
caitlyn doesn't need to ask what you're talking about, since you've been complaining of a toothache for the past week now, a side effect of developing fangs. she puts the book she was reading down, sympathy marring her face as she turns to you. the whole point of turning you into a vampire like her was so that you would be safe — or at least safer — from harm, and yet here you are, hiding your face in your hands in a feeble attempt to block out the pain.
"i was born a vampire," caitlyn gently reminds you, "so everything happened when i was a baby. i don't remember it much, except my mother told me i absolutely devoured all my chew toys when i was younger. didn't i buy you some, too?"
when you look up at her, it's a pitiful sight. salty tears stain your face, while your eyes are all swollen and red. "you did, but they're not—" you can't explain it, but the chewing tools she gave you to help aren't satisfying you. you need— you need flesh, as weird as it sounds.
"i know, i know, but you're not ready to feed from humans yet."
in this state, the second you bite into a blood servant, you'll lose all sense of self control and end up completely draining them, so, like all new vampires, you have to drink blood from a cup via straw. it's quite frankly insulting. "i can't take this, cait."
"you could bite down on me?" she offers after a moment of contemplation. most vampires prefer to bite humans instead of their own species, since the taste is much sweeter. caitlyn herself has never had much of a preference, and she suspects you don't care about trivial things such as blood flavours in your desperate state.
and fuck, her suggestion sounds good right about now. you can imagine it so clearly, your teeth sinking down into her tender flesh while your lips suck at her soft skin, tongue lapping over the puncture points to soothe the ache. it wouldn't be like a blood servant, there's a certain intimacy that they just can't provide. but your girlfriend can.
"are you sure?" as much as you both like it rough, you don't want to hurt her, and who's to say you'll be able to control yourself once you get a taste?
caitlyn doesn't seem to share your concern, however. "your fangs are—" she hesitates, not wanting to offend you, "dull. they will not harm me.'
"right, i have to wait to have big and sharp fangs like you do," you complain. it's not like you thought being a vampire would be easy, but you did expect to be stronger. aren't vampires supposed to be stone cold and have pain tolerances of steel instead of being taken down by toothaches? or have you just been reading too much vampire fiction? caitlyn would definitely argue the latter.
"don't fret over it, darling. in time, i'm sure your fangs will grow even sharper than mine," caitlyn soothes, motioning for you to sit on her lap. whatever book she was reading beforehand is long discarded, all of her attention on making you feel better.
"i doubt that," you mutter under your breath, but make your way to her straddle her lap regardless.
in response, she loosens her robe and pulls her blue hair to one side, baring her neck to you. almost immediately, you reach out to touch the smooth skin, dragging a nail down the side of it. she's so soft under your fingertips, you're practically drooling at the thought of sinking your teeth in, the thought of watching the black blood trickle down her pale neck before lapping it up in one quick motion, unable to resist.
she places a hand at the back of your neck, guiding your head to where she wants you. both your hands grip her tightly, one on her arm and the other on the side of her neck, nails digging into her flesh. it takes a few tries before your teeth manage to puncture her skin — standard for a new vampire but embarrassing nonetheless — but succeeding makes it all worth it.
all the pain you've been feeling since you turned fades away, the only room left in your body reserved for the sheer pleasure of her blood hitting your tongue for the first time. it tastes a little bitter at first, a shift from the sickeningly sweet human blood you've been getting used to up until now, but you find yourself preferring it, and feeding from the source is far better than all the straw bullshit you've had to put up with.
"you're doing so well," caitlyn praises, a little breathless. she can't remember the last time somebody drank from her, but even then she knows it never felt as good as this.
if there were no consequences, you could go on draining her forever, but you can tell, even in your blood-drunk state, that if you're feeling lightheaded, she almost certainly is. summoning up all the strength you have, you pull away, looking up at her for reassurance that she enjoyed it as much as you did. "was that good?"
"very," she affirms. her neck still glistens with your saliva and she finds herself hesitant to wipe it off. since your teeth aren't that strong yet, the wound won't scar, though admittedly she wishes it would.
"thank you for letting me feed from you, i feel miles better."
caitlyn can't help herself, pressing a tender kiss your lips, "and thank you, for letting me be your first time."
happy kurt day wow are you guys seeing this? my beautiful boy i need to get back into writing him bc i miss my beautiful gorgeous angel so yes! hashtag kurtsword96. also this is sandbox gamer!reader. because. well yes.
kurt freaking LOVES birthdays. he loves your birthday, of course, because he gets an excuse to spoil his favourite person with what little money he has (usually through candy, flowers, and a stuffed animal) but he also loves his birthday because it means he gets free shit hell yeah. (#mecore)
he’ll take you like everywhere to try and get smth for free. starbucks, dunkin, krispy kreme, anywhere that offers a birthday deal. he splits his earnings with you, of course, you deserve it for dealing with his bullshit for so long. kurt risks losing all of his teeth once a year on his birthday because he takes it as an excuse to gorge on every single pastry he can get his hands on. every single year he, without fail, gets an ice cream cake for his birthday (because chocolate cake with strawberry ice cream is the best type of cake) and finishes most of it in one day.
he does a birthday vlog too, always filming the two of you getting free stuff together and buying the cake. he thinks of it as a way to memorialize this new milestone for the two of you! and also he thinks it’ll get views because it’s literally his birthday he should get all the views in the world.
you decide to surprise him for his birthday one year by stealing one of his video cameras to film your own vlog the week before. you buy decorations, make his chocolate-strawberry ice cream cake from scratch, and get him a new pc for his twitch streams because he always complains that he loses bc his games keep lagging.
the two of you don’t live together quite yet so you get up early to sneak into his apartment via the spare key he keeps under the doormat, setting everything up while he’s still asleep. luckily for you, kurt is a very deep sleeper. once everything’s set up, you sneak into his room oh so quietly to climb into bed next to him, gently rousing him with kisses.
there are always complaint that it’s too early and he does the “i’m so excited for today” thing like he’s hinting to you that it’s his birthday but doesn’t want to say it himself. he gets very very happy when you wish him a “happy birthday” with a kiss, immediately getting out of bed to get dressed for his free stuff. you manage to get him to calm down, putting a pin in his plans by leading him out to the living room instead, where everything is set up, including a giant HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner and a million helium balloons (of which kurt sucks the air from to do an alvin the chipmunk impression).
kurt. doesn’t have friends. whoops. and he also doesn’t really love his parents that much. his mom does drop by for a bit but his dad is not invited bc why the fuck would he be. i like to think that bobby does like. grow up a bit and stops acting like an annoying teenage boy (i’m projecting my brother onto him) so he does pop by to drop off a (very cheap) present for kurt and raids kurt’s stream that night.
though usually kurt will play a game like rainbow six siege or smth, he’s so so thankful for the little party you threw him that he honors you with a co-op stardew stream :)
f!reader x boyfriend!graham dunne — graham dunne masterlist
djats week 2026 — spring day #004
summary : billy dunne sucks, and no one is more aware of that than his own brother. graham loves billy, of course, he kind of has to, but he gets exhausting, especially when it comes to the band. so when you offer to whisk him away to the beach late at night, he couldn’t possibly say no to his beautiful girlfriend.
warnings : it’s sooo fluffy, they make out but don’t have sex, so overall fluff, some billy bashing
word count : 1.6k
It’s not difficult to read Graham, he’s an extremely open book. You can practically read his mind just by glancing at him because of how transparent he is with his emotions. At least, that’s how he is around everyone else. It’s different whenever he’s around his brother, a bad sort of different. It’s like walls go up whenever he’s around Billy. He talks less, smiles less, becomes a lesser version of himself. Now, with tour coming up it’s gotten worse.
He doesn’t let his walls back down, even when he comes home to you every night. It’s too much for him, to try and switch back and forth when more than half of the hours in his day are spent around Billy, rehearsing and planning for and arguing about the tour. He stays closed up all day because of this, no matter what you try to do. Even when you try to surprise him with his favourite dinner or cuddle when you go to bed, you hardly get a proper response.
He’s not rude by any means, he doesn’t get that way unless someone’s really upset him. He’s just quiet, unreactive. A thanks for the dinner, but his face doesn’t light up like it would normally. He holds you at night, sure, allows you to press kisses to his jaw and kisses you back gently when you ask, but he falls asleep sooner than normal. It’s clear that practices and the band is getting to him, you can see clearly how much he needs a break.
Being his girlfriend, you know that you’re the person in charge of getting Graham to relax. He’s been coming home late, since Billy’s been keeping the band at the studio late into the night to rehearse. Luckily for you, you’re a great actress, so a phonecall to Sound City where you wail into the receiver about how you might’ve broken your ankle, Graham is rushing home right away.
The front door bursts open, revealing your panicked boyfriend, his face holding emotion than he’s shown the whole week. He sees you, standing there on your perfectly fine ankles, a small picnic basket in your hands.
“I thought— you said you were hurt,” he says.
“I lied,” you say simply. “You needed a break and that was the only way I could get you out of practice early.”
“Oh.” His expression softens, and he approaches you slowly. “Thank you.”
You smile, taking his hand. “Don’t thank me yet. We’re going out.”
“At this hour? I’d rather just go to bed,” he says, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close.
“That’s all you’ve been doing for the past month. Eat, rehearse, sleep, eat, rehearse, sleep, over and over again. It’s like you’re a robot, Graham, you need some variety in your life again,” you say, pressing kisses to his cheek and jaw. “Let’s go for a drive, down to the beach. We used to go every weekend. We haven’t done that for a while.”
You feel a smile form on his face under your lips, and you smile in return. His arms release you, but not before he kisses you, deeper than he has for a while now. “I’ll drive,” he says.
“You always do,” you say, going to slip on your shoes.
The drive to the beach is quiet, but not in the quiet that’s been haunting you all this time. It’s not the uncomfortable quiet you keep trying to break with conversation, only getting short, tired responses from Graham in return. This one is warm, comforting, like the quiet nights you would have together when you first went out, curled under the sheets, halfway to falling asleep as you tried in vain to stay awake through kisses and murmurs of “I love you.”
Now, the cool night air is whistling through your rolled down window, the engine hums softly as Graham drives, the radio is on but turned down so you can just barely hear the music. He’s got one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours over the center console. The closer you get to the beach, the louder the seagulls get, and soon enough he’s parked the car.
The two of you get out for just a moment to get the top down before climbing back into the car, you opening up the picnic basket. There’s not much in there, just some cold cut sandwiches, potato chips, and two Cokes. Not a fancy dinner by any means, just a simple meal so that the two of you can pretend that everything is normal before Graham has to go back to his grueling pre-tour routine once again.
“Why did you do all of this?” he asks, unwrapping a turkey sandwich.
“Because I love you,” you say simply, opening a bottle of Coke and taking a sip.
“You know that’s not what I mean.” There’s a soft smile on his face as he says this, nudging you lightly with his shoulder, as if chiding you for messing around.
“I’m not joking,” you say, the two of you switching so that he can have some Coke and you can take a bite of the sandwich. “I love you, so I know how you get when Billy is wearing you down to the bone.”
“You need to stop blaming Billy for everything.”
“You need to stop defending him. I get it, he’s your brother, but it’s clear that his whole schedule is going to lead you and the rest of the band to a very slow and painful death. He’s overworking you, I think everyone can tell except you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re not… you,” you say, struggling a bit to explain. “You usually have an opinion on things, speak up, try to look on the bright side of situations. You’re very much a ‘the glass is half full’ sort of person, and I love that about you, but, now, that’s gone. And it’s not your fault, you’re exhausted and stressed and everything, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss you. You’re like— a shell of your former self.”
“I think you’re reading too deep into this,” he argues.
“You’re going to tell your girlfriend, the one person in this world that probably knows you the best, second only to your mother, that I’m reading too deep into this?” you argue. “Graham, I know you. You’re never usually this dull and blah.”
“You think I’m blah?” he challenges, his former playfulness slowly coming back.
“I think Billy makes you blah,” you say. “And I don’t like it. You need a break. Something more than just the two of us sitting here tonight because I know that this isn’t enough.” You trade the sandwich back for the Coke, taking a sip as you continue talking. “You need a proper weekend off from Billy and the band. Maybe a weekend away with your girlfriend?”
“You know I’d love to, but there’s no way Billy would allow it,” he says. “I love you, and I want to give you everything, you know that, but with Daisy running off to Greece to marry his royal highness, now that she’s back Billy’s not letting us off the hook.”
“Who said Billy has to know? We pack, we get a flight to like— France or Italy or somewhere super far away, not tell anyone. We can just vanish for a little bit, enjoy ourselves.”
“Seriously? You know Billy will kill us when we get back.”
“He won’t kill you, he needs a guitarist,” you say with a shrug.
“What about you?”
“Well if he kills me then you won’t play for him.”
Graham laughs, leaning over the console to kiss your cheek. “True enough.”
“So, what do you say?” you ask. “Secret vacation in Europe?”
He sets the half-eaten sandwich back in the picnic basket, washing it down with some Coke. “Secret vacation in Europe,” he agrees, kissing you properly now.
You ignore the fact that the two of you taste of turkey, mayo, and cheese, instead just letting yourself get lost in his lips. Your fingers twine into his hair as he practically climbs over the console to get closer to you, causing you to laugh and pull away with a bit of struggle.
“Backseat?” you ask, breathless.
Graham doesn’t even give you a dignified answer, just climbing into the back and waiting very impatiently for you to join. Another laugh escapes you as you join him, getting tugged into his lap as his lips find yours again. Your hands move up under the hem of his shirt as his tongue invades your mouth, his skin warm against your palms. Graham sighs against your mouth, head tilting back as you start trailing kisses down his neck.
“Not here,” he says softly. “Not tonight. I just want to hold you tonight, we can make love properly at home.”
“Make love?” you mumble against his throat, causing a groan to escape him.
“Don’t start,” he says, tugging you up for another kiss. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” you say, the words barely leaving your lips before his mouth is on yours again.
You’re not sure when the two of you fall asleep, but you wake up hours later to the sun blaring in your face, Graham still out cold beside you. Seagulls are cawing around you, one even trying to get into your picnic basket. You shoo it away with your foot but make no movement to put the roof back up. You never want to leave this moment, here in his arms with the California sun shining down on you. You’ll deal with seagulls later.
a/n: this one’s short bc there’s not much of an inciting incident that i can yap abt but it’s nice and sweet. i love graham dunne he's my baby aww awwwwwwww
i got to thinking about the band on tour, stopping at a bar for a quick drink, only to end up absolutely wasted. it would be something so, so memorable for them — even if it’s completely ridiculous. warren and eddie would be sloppily playing pool with graham nitpicking every move, while daisy and karen shamelessly do karaoke, and billy gossips with rod
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