She/her. Old enough to know better, young enough to not give a fuck. Multi-fandom erotica and original fiction. 18+ users only. Minors are not welcome and blank blogs get blocked. Other than that, happy reading! I DO NOT give permission for my work to be translated and/or posted anywhere else.
Claire, I'll miss you, your characters and your beautiful smut! 🥹
Awww babe, I’ll still be here creating! I’ll take a rest for a time before returning with whatever it is that will count as the third instalment of A&O, but I shan’t be gone. Feel free to keep popping into my inbox, yeah? 😊
Thoughts on RG from M featuring on SG? (Iykwim 👀👀👀)
HUGE surprise! My friends and I had only been playfully dismissing the idea just the week before Full Send was released 😂 Absolute banger of a track, though! 😍🤘🏻
Hey Darling, just wanted to say how much I cherish A&O. Even though it has ripped my heart out more than once. I know Bloodlines is coming to a close which is so sad. I have really started to love these characters. I wonder what we will still be able to read in Bloodlines before it ends. Will you end it when IV goes through his transformation again? And will we be able to read about Grace’s journey of becoming a vampire in some form (story/oneshot)? Maybe a one shot of Ves and Grace adopting a child. There is so much that I still want to read about with these characters. I hope you want to write about them as well 💖✨
Hello, love! Oh, that really means the world to me, hearing how much you love it! I always gets to hyped to hear this :)
Okay so the ending will basically cover IV's return to vampirism, as well as another event, too. No spoilers here, though. In the future, whether I do a third full length part or simply revisit in one shorts or a mini series, I do want to cover Grace and Ves adopting a child as well as Grace eventually being turned, too. I have ideas, but they're still all living up in my head, nothing concrete as yet.
Good morning, besties! I hope everyone is well and had a lovely weekend! Here we go, then. The penultimate chapter before next week's finale. Don't worry, the last one will be a nice, long read. I'm at 6.2k words and not even close to being finished yet! :)
Summary: A year has passed since the events that left your newly formed family shattered, the four of you continuing to move ahead with your lives as best you can. The introduction of new equal rights laws for vampires across the United Kingdom marks a significant turning point, offering hope and the promise of greater acceptance. With these changes, you and II feel empowered to finally take the next step towards expanding your family, beginning to plan for the arrival of a child.
However, the journey towards this new chapter is not without its uncertainties. A new friend, with the best of intentions, offers some advice that despite your judgement, lingers in the back of your mind. Regardless of the strength of your bond and the depth of your commitment, you find yourself questioning whether these concerns hold any merit.
Your trust in the resilience of your marriage remains steadfast, and you dismiss the warning as unfounded. Yet, as time unfolds, those doubts prove harder to ignore. It is only when envy emerges unexpectedly - affecting one of the vampires you hold dear - that the true challenge reveals itself, threatening the peace and unity you have worked so hard to build.
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four
Words: 6,703
Warnings: Vampire fic, mentions of blood and gore, plus lots of smut. 18+ content, minors DNI!
Tag list: In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.
"Ivy! It's Christmas Eve and look at that! All of those are for you!"
You smile widely, watching your gurgling baby being bounced enthusiastically in her uncle's arms, III pointing beneath the Christmas tree in the main lounge to where a stack of presents sit, a true mountain of gifts for your now near five month old.
With the unpleasantness of the car bomb incident a few weeks past still lingering in your mind (your father charged, denied bail and languishing in HMP Bristol while awaiting trial) you're pushing ahead in an attempt to make your daughter's first Christmas truly magical for her. As is her daddy, who had to be held back recently from buying her a pony, such was his excitement to utterly spoil her to death and be reminded that it'd be at least three years until she'd actually be able to ride it.
He did not take kindly to III telling him he could until that point, since he was perfectly pony sized.
The vampire in question arrives with you, arms slipping around your waist, placing a kiss to the side of your neck. "Did you get all the wrapping done?"
"Yeah," you reply, leaning back against his chest, kissing his cheek. "Mum helped, she's bloody fantastic at it!!
He hums a chuckle, moving to go and take Ivy from her uncle. "Well, you did need some help. I'll never forget the mass of sellotape we had to yank our way through, that first Christmas you were with us." You glare, and he burst into laugher. "What? It would have been easier trying to break into a bank vault!"
"Grace wraps a present so well, she means for you to never get into it!" III agrees, his grin alight with his usual mirth.
Sauntering over, you arch an eyebrow. "Well, there goes my plan on tying myself in a big bow for you to undo with your teeth." Cocking your head in II's direction, you wink. "Same for you, too."
"Um, can we perhaps backtrack a little?" he questions, him and III looking between each other.
"Yeah, I rescind my statement over your present wrapping skills," he agrees, while you shake your head and kiss the baby before walking over towards the door.
"Nope, no gift wrapped wife for either of you!"
"I'd settle for you unwrapped?" II calls, both of them laughing when you extend your middle finger back over your shoulder. Walking down towards the kitchen, your route is blocked by IV leaving the study, reaching out and trailing a finger across the waistband of your trousers.
"So, if I don't take the piss out of your gift wrapping skills, do I still get to unwrap you from the big bow?"
You reach up to drape your arms around his neck, smiling sultrily. "Maybe."
"Nice," he grins, "I should at least be able to pick the colour of the bow, though."
You lean into a kiss he happily gives, humming softly, little flint strikes of arousal beginning to spark within. "Mmm, I think that's fair. Or you could unwrap me from one of your favourites of my underwear sets."
He moves his mouth to your neck, ghosting a kiss, making you shudder with anticipation. "Or I could just tear off all your clothes and give you a damned hard pounding right now?"
Oh, how you're tempted, but you have a thousand things you need to get done before your aunt and uncle arrive at 7pm. "I'm pushed for time, love."
He raises an eyebrow. "I can be quick?" His smile grows, looking you up and down appreciatively. "Come on, let's go somewhere quiet down here. Are you really saying that you have better things to do than, well, me?"
You have to go and dye your hair, finish painting your nails and also begin helping the man in front of you with dinner prep from tomorrow. Hmm. Hair dye can be put on and dinner prep started while you're waiting for it to develop and send your red tresses an extra vibrant shade. Your nails only need the clear top coat doing, something you can do much later while you're enjoying drinks with your family. With that in mind…
You're backed into the narrow space, IV so consumed by his desire as you giggle against his lips that he almost knocks you over. Reaching for the light switch there in the big pantry, you flick it on and pull the door shut, the excitement of it, the illicit thrill that one of the staff might catch you there thrumming over your bones as your heart quickens.
You wiggle your way out of your trousers, pulling off his hoodie, unable to resist biting one of his dark, rosy nipples. The action makes his entire chest spasm, IV groaning, taking a handful of your hair and giving it a tug, exposing your neck to the hunger of his teeth. It might not compare with a vampire bite, but god, it still sends a glimmers skittering through you.
In the continuation of gaining trust, he's been very gentle with you so far, sexually speaking. This moment scorches, though, both feral with longing for one another, pawing and groping, kisses a messy clash as you pant against each other's mouths. A flick has your bra undone, your breasts spilling onto the soft clutch of his hands, thumbs gently stroking over your nipples until they stiffen while you steer him back to sit atop the step stool in the corner.
He lacks any tangible patience to get you fully naked as you sit astride him, yanking at your undies until they tear in his grasp, kisses all smoky heaven as your tongues battle. You're wet with longing for him, his fingers stroking through your sopping folds with a hungry grumble as you unfasten his jeans and pull his cock free, impaling yourself upon it.
He fills you entirely, deeply rooted, hands pawing at you greedily. You're utterly entrenched deep in the heat and sin of it, kisses smouldering, hands wandering. Its lava poured over ice, the flames of it scorching your blood, fervid desires played out in sex that borders on brutal, bounced on his cock as his fingers dig welts into the soft of your hips.
“Nobody has ever fucked me like you do, sugar. God, you’re too bloody good.”
You know it of old, that you’re the best he’s ever had. He pours his lust and want into you, biting your lip before his mouth moves to your neck, panting hard with a rumbled groan. Oh, the thrill of it, that the pantry door could open at any second.
Lifting you, you know he needs the dominance, the need shaking his muscles as he lies you down on the floor, the tangency between you not lost as he kneels before you, cock plunging you fully with hard, rapid snaps of his hips. He’s like iron, heavy and unyielding within you, stretching you, moulding and remaking you around him, spreading your thighs wide as he watches your cunt glossing his thick, veiny cock.
It's the kind of sex akin to a comet, streaking hot and rapid beneath your skin, destined only to last mere moments. When you come for him, your back banging against the hard wood floor beneath you, it burns white hot and radiating, your body shimmering with incandescence as he fills you deep with thick ropes of cum.
"Oh my god," you pant, clutching his forearms. "You just made me come so hard, my brain backfired!"
He goes to say something, chest still heaving, swallowing hard as he widens his eyes. "Uhh."
Immediately, you're shaking beneath him with laughter. "Is that all you can manage?"
"Mm."
"I'm not the only one with a backfired brain, then?" you tease, fingernails drifting in tickle over his nipples.
He shakes his head, thudding it down against your chest with a groan. "Bloody hell. Can't remember the last time I… I… nah. Fuck. Static brain."
Oh, you're ruined him completely, and it's wholly too funny. He eventually regains enough mental comprehension to help you up off the floor, both dressing, your ruined undies slipped into your pocket, moving from the pantry and out into the kitchen again with nobody any the wiser. Well, your other three husbands probably heard and tuned it out, but none of the few staff still milling around before they finish in an hour seem to have noticed.
While IV begins the prep, you race upstairs and get your hair dye on, mixing the two bottles it takes to completely cover your mountain of hair. Securing it in a couple of big clips, you race back to the kitchen, finding a glass of prosecco waiting for you on the side.
"Might as well start proceedings now, eh sugar?" he smiles, lifting his bottle of beer and gently tapping against the glass you've just lifted from the island.
Why not? It's Christmas Eve, after all, and you've expressed more than enough milk to last Ivy through the festive period. "Yes, yes we bloody should!"
A few sips of fizz are taken before you move to the chopping board, tasking yourself with potato peeling while IV washes off carrots, broccoli and cauliflower in the sink. He's flatly refused to prepare the traditional Christmas vegetable that is the humble sprout, and since nobody else who will be eating is altogether too keen either, it matters not.
It'll be you, him, III, your mum, Oliver, Mel and Chris eating lunch, Ves and II rising in the evening just before presents are exchanged.
"Right, why is there a pile of rice over here?"
"I'm making sushi," you tell him, jogging over to quickly check if it's cool enough to begin assembling, getting a few grains stuck to your fingers. "What?" you then cry, watching him lift his chin with a look of entertained disbelief.
"You're making sushi?" he questions slowly. "You?"
Cheeky bastard! "Yes! And I've been taught how by an actual Japanese person, so you can put that face you're pulling at me away!"
The eyebrows wiggle around a bit more. "Nene ain't a sushi chef though, is she?"
"No, but she employs plenty of them, she's been taught and now so I have I! I know how to slice the fish properly and everything!"
Looking at the huge clock in the kitchen, he hums. "Well, you've got an hour and fifteen minutes, and you still have to go and do all your lady faffing to get ready, so I'd hurry up if I were you."
He winks, grinning through his teasing as you mouth a barrage of swears at him, leaving him to the rest of the prep. Racing upstairs, you wash your hair dye off, giving your newly refreshed locks a good shampoo and conditioning, then take a quick shower to scrub off all the little flecks of red that have stained the back of your neck with the help of another.
"Charlie, I really don't have time for this!" you giggle, your mind resolute to not entertaining being sexually interfered with but your body somewhat betraying you.
"Oh, bollocks!" he huffs. "You had time to let my bloody sibling give you a banging in the pantry, you've got five minutes for me in the shower!"
You try to resist, but god, he doesn't make it easy. With his mouth at your neck and fingers slipping down to begin massaging your clit, you mentally try and check off how rapid you can be with getting ready. Your hair will take five minutes to dry, you know what you're wearing already, you can go for maximum impact with a set of false lashes, kohl liner and lip gloss for makeup that'll take less time than a full face. Sushi assembling can't be rushed, and IV is making the other food for tonight anyway.
With a bit of girl maths applied, you have your window of five minutes.
"You'd better be quick," you purr, hand reaching for his cock, beginning to squeeze upon his shaft.
"Mm, I will, but I'll be so fucking good, you won't be able to think of anything else all night."
Now there's a promise you can get on board with, your mouths meeting in a hungry clash, his groan all smoke and salt as he pushes his fingers within you, fangs popping to feel how wet you are for him already as he rakes them slowly and beautifully against your sweet spot.
He pulls you closer against him, the roughness of the action making sparks skitter through your blood, nipping your neck as his hands glide down your body before moving to stand behind you, pushing you against the heavy glass of the shower and lifting your leg.
Hooking it over the bend of his arm, he raises it further as you feel that first delicious push against your opening, gasping as he arrows into you fully. You spasm immediately at the stretch, his short beard tickling the back of your neck as he moves his mouth, ghosting the side of your throat with the promise of his lips only to bite you instead.
His teeth sinking in to feed on you sends a flurry of glimmers down your spine, a moan dripping from your lips like syrup as he retreats, then fills you again. You contract around him strongly, his perfect, hard cock sliding so deep within you that you wail, the thick head throbbing against your summit with every thrust.
He then reaches back, taking the small, removable shower head from its coupling, switching it on and passing it into the hand that holds your leg, directing the intense jet of water right onto your clit. You arch back against him, all that he does prying moans from you, his free hand snaking around to hold your neck, tipping your head back onto his shoulder as he groans deeply in your ear.
“Fuck, that beautiful cunt feels so tight!” he rumbles, tongue navigating the column of your neck. Any words you might reply with are stolen as he arrows you again, harder than the pace he’d set, your chest heaving as you wail for him, his hand flexing at your throat.
Those hard thrusts continue, pounding you savagely, the glass cool against your front, everything encompassing you in raw heat. You can scarcely bear it sometimes, just how aroused your beautiful, sexually decimating vampire gets you.
His hips drive up into you with hard, sharp snaps, your pleasure rolling through you strongly, the water still cascading in a concentrated jet at your clit making you throb. Molten pleasure begins to pool, hot and swirling, your slick heat twitching strongly around him.
He spears into you deeply, the water trickling over your skin adding lovely sensations, wave after wave of contractions tingling through you without actually crashing forth, your body wrecked by all he inflicts but yearning to give him more. III is a storm you wish to be swept away in, chest sliding against your back deliciously as he quickens, driving up into you with merciless energy.
One hand pounds off the glass, the other wrapping back around his neck, his mouth kissing your shoulder as he thrusts into you with vigour. With a cry, shuddering as your undulate against him, you unravel, III yanking at the thread that is the blanket of your pleasure, undoing you completely.
“Fuck,” you gasp, vaguely aware of him placing the shower head back in its cradle, both of his arms wrapping around you, his cock still slipping in and out of you slowly, enjoying the way you’re fluttering around him still. "Yeah, yeah I will be thinking about that all night."
He hums a deep chuckle, kissing the back of your neck. "Told you all I needed was five minutes."
Reluctantly, you have to race from his arms and into the bundle of towels, literally running out of your en-suite and rushing to ready yourself. Fifteen minutes later and you're back in the kitchen, your sushi assembling on the go, IV still viewing you dubiously.
Looking up from your assembly of nigri blocks, you frown. "You're hovering."
"Just curiously spectating, sugar," he replies sweetly. No, he bloody isn't.
"You're waiting for me to fuck up, I know you are," you reply, waving your hand in the direction of the other counter. "Don't you have pizzas to assemble?"
"They're all done, just got to go bang 'em in the oven outside when Mel and Chris get here."
That was your Christmas gift from him, one he couldn't wait to show you he'd had custom built (well, him, Bob and Bob's friend Seth, a former brickie by trade got it all set up) when you announced you wanted to make pizzas as part of the Christmas Eve food. You couldn't stop bouncing on the spot when you saw it there, the wood fired oven all built in Cotswold stone, looking beautiful and bringing your dreams of outdoor cooking to life beyond what a barbecue can provide.
Wetting your hands thoroughly with more rice vinegar, you continue your method of rolling balls of rice in your palms before placing them down and forming them into oblong blocks, remembering Nene instructing you that this was the easiest way. God, you miss her. A brief visit from her and Laz to meet the baby a few weeks prior just wasn't enough time with your lovely friend. At least you have FaceTime, though.
Looking up at a still hovering IV from under your newly long, full eyelashes, you pout, eyes narrowing dangerously. "You know how sharp knives have to be to slice sushi, don't you?"
He leans forward, licking his top lip in a way that elicits a shiver to dart up your spine. "Oooh, knife play, eh? Kinky bitch."
Closing your eyes with a quiet growl, you decide the big guns are necessary in order to get him out from under your feet.
"II!"
He appears in a flash, a protesting IV thrown unceremoniously over his shoulder a second later. "Where do you want him?"
"In the bloody water trough!"
"No!" IV shouts, beginning to thrash. It does him no favours. "Put me down, I'll stop, I'll stop!"
"Will you, though?" II asks, giving him a very rapid spin around, IV's yell having you in soft fits.
"Yes!"
Chuckling, the mild torture continues. "Repeat after me, I am not Gordon Ramsay."
"Oh, fuck off, II!"
"I'd do as he says if I were you," you chip in, wiping your hands, all nigri blocks assembled and ready for the fish.
"Fucking put me down, you hostile little gnome!"
You almost lose it at that, never hearing that particular insult towards your husband's diminutive height. II doesn't let it phase him, though, reaching for the band of IV's boxers and beginning to pull.
"I'll rip these so far up your crack, you'll need a surgeon to remove them," he threatens, near pissing himself laughing. "Repeat after me, I am not Gordon Ramsay."
"Did someone need my assistance?" III then speaks, appearing in the space, pointing at the scene. "I heard a surgeon was required?"
"II, pack it in!!" IV roars desperately, the black Calvin Klein's yanked even higher. "My fucking balls!"
"Say it!"
"I am not Gordon Ramsay!"
"And I will therefore leave our wife alone while she's cooking and not be a pest," II then adds, him and III in near hysterics.
"Just put me down!"
Once again, the underwear it yanked. "Say it, skidespræller!"
"I know what that means!" IV cries. "Don't fucking call me a shit wriggler!"
"Say it!"
Oh, god. Your sides hurt.
"And I will therefore leave our wife alone while she's cooking and not be a pest, even though technically she ain't cooking, cos' sushi is raw!" he yells, finally being placed back on his feet, yanking the bunch of his boxers out of his bum with a scowl. "Fucking dickhead! You're pissed already, aren't you? Always get like this when you've been at the booze blood!"
A beaming II, clearly thrilled with himself, makes a small gap between his thumb and forefinger. "Little bit. Might've started early."
You did wonder. With IV neutralised and a beer placed in his hand, II comes to give you a little affection before vanishing again, leaving you to your prep. You're all done with five minutes to spare, quickly washing your hands and making sure the wine fridge is plenty stocked before running down the hallway to answer the donging chime of the doorbell.
"Oh my god, it's snowing again?" you cry, Mel's lips thinning.
"No, poppet, I've just got some really bad dandruff," she scowls, eventually cracking. "Bloody let me in! Freezing my pissing tits off out here!"
Allowing her entrance, she places her bags down, giving you a bone crunching cuddle, Chris making his way over.
"Absolutely shitted it down just as we pulled off the motorway!" he announces, stopping to kiss your cheek before continuing in, the bags he's holding making a familiar clinking noise.
"Where's my Mel?" you then hear the excited roar of III, appearing in a second to give her the kind of hug that lifts her from the ground. "Chris, I see alcohol in that bag, mate. We told you we had that covered!" he then speaks, putting your aunt down and moving to hug your uncle.
"Ahh, I know, I know! But it isn't all person alcohol," he speaks, lifting a bottle from the bag. "I'm told this is excellent for you lot."
II appears, peering at the label on the bottle. "Fucking hell, Chris. That's double concentrate blood."
Which, as it happens, is the most expensive of all the alcohol-laced bloods money can buy. "I know, I thought you might like that. A token of our thanks for having us up here for Christmas."
II beams, clapping a strong hand to his shoulder. "I like you. Come on, let's go forth and be, well, fucking merry!"
Chris turns to you, smiling in surprise at II's laid back, welcoming demeanour. Having only met him once before and finding him to be a little standoffish, as your Viking always is with new people, he happily follows along in the direction of the kitchen, II and III grabbing a bag each just as IV appears to greet them.
There is a missing husband, though.
"Ves?"
With a little shriek from your aunt, he appears out of nowhere. "Darling Mel, I apologise for startling you." Leaning to her, he kisses her cheek, taking hers and Chris's bags, turning to give you a wink.
"Why are you winking?" you immediately ask, suspicious. "What do you know that I don't?"
He leans in close, Mel already on her way down to her regular guest bedroom. "You in that dress. Your boobs in that dress. The fact I might have to drag you off, ruck that dress up around your waist and fuck you until you're remade around me at some point tonight."
You'd wonder what the hell has gotten into them all tonight, but you know full well. When vampires smell sex in the air, their desire notches up rampantly. Your tryst with IV in the pantry was the catalyst, it seems. Two down, and two to go.
Giggling, you reach to give his bum a squeeze, continuing down the corridor to deliver Mel's bags with him before you all make your way around to the kitchen. On the way, Mel reaches for your hand, suddenly pulling you to a stop.
"Right, poppet. Before we all get too stuck in with the merriment, I just want to check in with you," she speaks, her eyes warm, hand rubbing your arm affectionately. "You've had a bloody lot to contend with, over these past four months! Ivy coming, IV coming back, and now all this shit with your dad! You doing okay with it all?"
Your heart thrums, her love warming its edges. She might be perhaps the biggest character of the family, the wild card, the eternal silly spirit, but beneath it all is a woman who cares deeply and always wants the very best for you.
"I'm doing good, Mel. I am," you state, nodding. "It's been a fucking shit show, absolute insanity, but it's having IV back that's really got me through."
She shakes her head in wonder, hand still rubbing. "Amazing, shitting amazing! I can't wait to learn more about it all, if I'm allowed to? And as for your dad, the least said the better. Fucking arsehole."
"Of course, you can!" you exclaim, leading her through to the kitchen, where your uncle Chris is already receiving that particular explanation, to hilarious results.
"I can't quite grasp it," he begins, gesticulating in his usual fashion when he's confused. "Alright so… so you were gone? But… Ves, how did you carry a body that far to where this witch would see you, without being noticed?"
"Vampires burn to ashes beneath the sun, Chris," he informs him. "As IV was, he was pocket sized, at least. A big pocket, but pocket sized nonetheless."
"Oi, are you calling me fat?" IV barks, laughing before swigging his beer, Ves rolling his eyes.
"Oh, oh I didn't know the details. I thought maybe, you know, burn victim and then dead. Blimey," he continues. "But then how? How did she… and you're here? And…"
"And yeah, with spells and a load of other magical bits and pieces, she brought me back. Bonded my soul to my remains and made my flesh and all that grow back. Bloody hurt like hell, but I'm over the worst of it now." he shrugs.
Chris's eyes widen, the vampires all chuckling, III sliding a vodka shot across the island. "Drink up, Chris. Your face tells me you need it."
He reaches for the glass, eyes still virtually out on stalks. "I just can't get my head round the fact it's all real! What else is out there then, that we all thought was silly stories but actually exists? Loch Ness Monster? Bigfoot?"
"I saw Sasquatch!" III chimes, II snorting.
"No, you didn't! You were stoned and saw Pete at a distance!"
"I did! It was you and Pete in cahoots, trying to convince me otherwise!" he insists.
IV absolutely falls apart at that, collapsing down on the island. "Fucking hell! When was that?"
"While you weren't here," II fills in, turning then to Chris. "Pete runs our ranch in Wyoming. Absolute giant of a man, almost seven feet tall with a big, black beard that touches his stomach. III got so battered one night he mistook him for the legendary bigfoot. Pete hasn't let him forget it, either."
Once your uncle has finished laughing, he finally speaks again. "But do they exist, though?"
"I've seen one," Ves contributes, taking a seat. "They were very shy creatures, but they did exist once upon a time. They've died out now, though, I think. Too much deforestation, too many humans driving them further into the wilderness."
"And I bet you've seen some sights, too, animals that aren't here any longer, huh?" Chris speaks, again being passed a shot by III.
"I have. I've encountered saber-toothed cats, woolly mammoths, giant sloths, etc. The mammoths were particularly lovely. Impossibly enormous, but such gentle creatures. It was sad, to see them deplete and eventually cease to exist," he explains, both Chris and Mel standing there in absolute awe.
"So that would make you…" he pauses, trying to do the maths. "How old, if that isn't rude?"
Ves smiles, making an open handed gesture. "Not at all. Around fifty thousand years old, give or take a century or so. I am apparently the oldest vampire on earth. The witch told me that."
Chris gapes, his hand reaching out blindly to grasp.
"I gotcha," III tells him, passing another vodka shot. "Oh, keep IV's resurrection on the down low when Oliver gets here, mate. He doesn't know, not being family."
Chris winks, pointing a finger. "Not a problem!"
The merriment swirls around you, your mum and Oliver arriving after a further half an hour. With the help of IV - and slight hindrance of III - you make sure everyone is kept well sustained with food and drinks, your own hunger satiated by Ves keeping a watchful eye on you, picking up little pieces of food and feeding them to you every now and again. He knows you forget when you're busy, eventually tiring of seeing you running around like a lunatic and holding you to lean back against him in a one armed embrace as he drinks his tea.
"You're doing entirely too much fussing and not enough celebrating," he leans to your ear to murmur. "I shan't have any of that on my watch. Next year, we hire in catering."
"But I like it," you say, sipping your champagne, "you know I thrive on all this."
"I do, but you don't take enough moments to actually stand and enjoy it." Like a coiled spring, you suddenly shoot from his clutch and over towards the oven, pulling out the tray of bruschetta rounds that need to cool before their various toppings are applied. "My point therein," he then adds with a wink.
"Right, what do these little bready thingies need on them?" III pipes up, waving his hand in the direction of the tray.
He's nudged then by his sibling, or rather, shunted out of the way. "For you not to get involved. Hop it," IV speaks, gently grasping your upper arms and moving you in his direction. "You need to play bartender to the wife, get her so drunk she stops fussing and lets us take over. II! Go get the pizza's out from the oven, would you?"
"What am I, your damned sous chef?" he snorts, enjoying a glass of the blood Chris brought with him.
"Yes," IV replies, grinning. "Go get the pave and put 'em on the plates I left out there." He then reaches to grab III by the back of his jeans. "Not you. You'll drop." He then points to you and the assortment of alcohol bottles upon island in turn. "Wife. Drunk."
With everyone given their orders, Ves taking it upon himself to go along with II, you're steered to the island, immediately being plied with vodka shots by your very merry uncle.
"Oh god, no! I can't with that one!" you cry, crinkling your nose.
Chris snorts, clapping a hand to your shoulder. "Oh, get it down!"
"I can't, I'll be sick! It's mandarin!" Your mum bursts into hysterics then, receiving a fiercely pointed finger from you. "Stop it!"
"No, oh flipping hell, I'll never forget that. When you and Teddy home for half term from uni and drank a bottle of that to yourselves," she reminisces, "then went up to the chip shop in the village, ordered everything, ate most of it and then saw it all again about an hour later. You were both so ill!"
"We've got tequila," Mel pipes up, beginning to search the bottles.
Oh, no. Heave. "I can't drink that either!"
"Yeah, last time she did, she lost her shoes out on the driveway, had to be carried into the house by Ves and then fucking hell, she honked her guts up worse than anything I have ever seen in my life or death. She was absolutely rat arsed!" III regales everyone with, while you hide your face against his arm in shame.
"Ahh, I remember you telling me that when I came up last year! Mel laughs, reaching to rub your shoulder and pull you from your hiding place. "Right, what have we got that's Grace friendly but'll get her trashed?"
"I'm sticking with champagne!" you cry, clutching your glass close. "Trust me, Dom Perignon will do the job nicely!"
Oh, how it does just that. You have a wonderful Christmas Eve with your family, feeling a little bleary when you awake the next morning next to a resting Ves, who did indeed make good on his promise to you earlier in the night.
Leaning over, you kiss his chest, stroking the small smattering of fine hairs in the centre. "Sexual dynamite, aren't you, my beautiful, big vampire?"
Getting up, you take a shower and dress in your pyjamas, going in to Ivy's room and finding her lying there playing with her feet, her gummy grin spreading hugely.
"Hello, my little stink!" you laugh, reaching to pick her up. "Who's done a massive poo? Is it you?"
She bounces and gurgles, being taken to her changing table and freshened up, dressing her and heading downstairs. Two very bleary relatives greet you in the kitchen, Mel with her head down on the island next to a piping hot coffee, Chris standing with a glass in his hand, three eggs cracked into it as he adds Tabasco sauce.
The third? A lot more chipper than your aunt and uncle, it has to be said.
"Merry Christmas, sugar!" IV greets you with, kissing you and the baby in turn. "Let me get the baking trays all organised and I'll do you a mimosa. Hair of the dog and all that." He then nods to your aunt, who weakly waves with a muffled 'Merry Christmas, poppet.' "Mel had one, although she's still rougher than a badger's arsehole."
"And this?" you say, moving to greet your uncle. "Merry Christmas, Chris."
He kisses your cheek, placing the Tabasco down and looking on at the contents of the glass in his hand with mild trepidation. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart. And you, Ivy! As for this, your hubby insists it works as a hangover cure. I'm unconvinced."
"Go on, Chris," IV advises, taking baking trays from the cupboard. "Get it down!"
A lot of huffing and puffing follows. "I know it'll probably work, I do, but Christ on fire. Tell my heaving guts that!"
"You men and your crazy remedies," Mel pipes up, sweeping her hair from her face as she straightens. "Just have a bucket load of coffee and a bit of hair of the dog!" She then beams brightly at you, holding out her arms for Ivy. "Princess smushy cheeks!"
"Ah la la blaa laaa!"
"Yeah, kid. Your great auntie here did drink too much lager, you're absolutely right!"
"A ba ba ba, fnaaaa!"
Again, Ivy's gabber is answered as if she's speaking actual words. "I agree, I think uncle Chris is going to see those eggs again about five seconds after he swallows them!"
Another bout of huffing from your uncle precedes his tipping the glass to his mouth and swallowing back the contents, IV quick to give him a glass of juice as a palette cleanser. "Oh, blimey! That tasted all kinds of foul!" Taking the grapefruit juice, he nods. "Cheers, bud."
"No probs." he's told, moving to make you a mimosa, which you take with a kiss while heating up Ivy's feed.
"Morning! Happy bloody Christmas, family!"
Ahh, III is in his usual good spirits, Mel groaning. "Do you have to be so loud? My eyelashes hurt. Shhh," she mutters, your husband moving to wrap her in a hug as he laughs.
"Hit the Stella Artois a bit hard, eh, Mel?"
She frowns, resting her head against his chest. "No mentioning of the evil French lager. No, no, no. I'll do a sick all over the shitting floor!"
He's still laughing as he releases her, giving Ivy a big kiss and taking her with him when he moves to greet you. "Here, I'll feed her. You sit, babe."
Gladly, you do, sipping your mimosa. You decide to stick with these for the rest of the day, save waking up with a tender head for a second morning in a row, bustling around the kitchen and helping IV with his lunch endeavours while III keeps your family and Ivy entertained.
"My god, I think I speak for everyone here when I state that was probably the best Christmas dinner I have ever eaten," Oliver beams after the array of beautiful food has almost all been devoured later that afternoon. "IV, your efforts are appreciated."
"I'll flippin' say!" Mel agrees, leaning to kiss his cheek, your heart melting when he wraps an arm around her warmly. "How'd you stop the turkey from going dry? I can never crack the secret of it, but you? Impart some of that chef's knowledge on your auntie by marriage!"
"First, you've gotta pre-soak it for twenty four hours in a wine and herb brine. Then while it's in the oven, basting and collecting the cooking juices in a syringe, then injecting them directly back into the bird every half hour. It's an arse ache to do, but like, I'd rather have that than dry meat."
"Nah, nobody wants their meat dry," III chimes, your uncle Chris almost choking on a mouthful of wine as he snorts into his glass, Mel throwing her napkin across the table at his head.
"Trust you to be filthy, Charlie!" she cries, shaking with her laughter.
If there is a culprit at all in this family, it's him. Come the late afternoon and Mary and her husband Roy pop over for a coffee and a few mince pies on their way to church for evening mass, Ves and II missing them by a few minutes when they finally rise. With them joining you, the giving and receiving of gifts commences, and you experience the utter joy that is watching your daughter study everything she's been bought. And the hilarity that follows.
"I knew she'd do this," II speaks, Ivy excitedly waving around a piece of red tissue paper. "She's more bloody interested in the wrapping than what's inside!"
Leaning to him, you kiss his cheek. "We should have just bought her a load of wrapping paper and scrunched it up, shouldn't we?"
That seems to be the general consensus as your daughter shows her fascination with each piece you help her tear from her gifts, the most beautiful one coming from her uncle Ves, it has to be said.
"Oh my god," you speak, after opening the two halves of polystyrene housing the huge snow globe between them. "Look! It's our house!" You then study it a little closer. "And us!"
Everyone makes appreciative noises as they peer to study it, the beautiful, tiny version of your sprawling home there within the liquid, and the five dainty little figures standing before it, your likeness holding Ivy in your arms.
"I wanted her to have something that included all of us in it, and the home she was born in," he speaks, while you juggle the snow globe and the baby. Mel takes the former, II lifting the latter into his arms as you stand and go to give your eldest husband a big hug and kiss.
"It's beautiful, and I just know she's going to treasure it when she's old enough to appreciate it."
It takes pride of place on the dresser in her bedroom a short time later when you put her down to sleep, heading back downstairs to the hilarious sight of your aunt being stalked with vodka.
"Come on, Mel! Do a shot!" III enthuses, following her as she shakes her head rapidly.
"No, I can't! I'll be sick!"
"Oh, come on, your lightweight!" he shouts, Chris hot on his heels offering the same towards his wife as they pursue her in the direction of the kitchen.
Turning, you see your mum coming out of the lounge, moving to her side, her arm slipping around your waist as you rest your head against hers. "I know Christmas looks a bit different for you this year, but I really hope you've enjoyed it."
She kisses your cheek, hand moving to rub your arm affectionately. "It might look different, babe, but I prefer it. New home, same lovely family."
"Mel! Would you just drink it? I'm spilling here, sweetheart!"
Looking to you, she snorts with laughter. "And the same loud III."
If there's anything any of you can count on never changing, it's that.
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Good morning, besties! I hope you're all well and had a lovely weekend! Right, let's get to catching up with our little family, shall we? There are another two chapters after this one that will bring our story to a close. I do want to write a third installment, but I am unsure whether this will definitely go ahead or not yet. I need a little break! If it doesn't, I will revisit them with one shots or mini stories, at least, so you don't have to say goodbye to everyone just yet :)
Summary: A year has passed since the events that left your newly formed family shattered, the four of you continuing to move ahead with your lives as best you can. The introduction of new equal rights laws for vampires across the United Kingdom marks a significant turning point, offering hope and the promise of greater acceptance. With these changes, you and II feel empowered to finally take the next step towards expanding your family, beginning to plan for the arrival of a child.
However, the journey towards this new chapter is not without its uncertainties. A new friend, with the best of intentions, offers some advice that despite your judgement, lingers in the back of your mind. Regardless of the strength of your bond and the depth of your commitment, you find yourself questioning whether these concerns hold any merit.
Your trust in the resilience of your marriage remains steadfast, and you dismiss the warning as unfounded. Yet, as time unfolds, those doubts prove harder to ignore. It is only when envy emerges unexpectedly - affecting one of the vampires you hold dear - that the true challenge reveals itself, threatening the peace and unity you have worked so hard to build.
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three
Words: 7,216
Warnings: Vampire fic, mentions of blood and gore, plus lots of smut. 18+ content, minors DNI!
Tag list: In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.
Standing by your daughter's cot, you smile down at her sleeping form, one arm extended up at the side of her head. Her daddy often adopts the same position when he falls into rest. It's just one of his inherited traits you've noticed with her, others including a matching frown whenever she's displeased and not meeting anything that doesn't go her way with anything close to civility.
Oh, the decibels of the rage squeals when she does not want to go to bed. They are the tiny, female version of her father's war roars from his days on the battlefield.
With the events of earlier still fresh in your mind, split wide like an open wound, this little slice of serenity, drinking in the beauty of the sleeping baby oblivious to it all, is a tonic that helps soothe the ache. You know, though, understand it well, that this will hurt for a long time to come.
Your father. You own father, and he sought to cause the kind of damage that anyone unlucky enough to become tangled in simply wouldn't have walked away from. It could have been anyone, you, you holding the baby, perish the thought, your husbands. You mum.
He didn't care. He wanted it, actively sought it. If he hadn't become so enraged by witnessing your mum moved on in a new relationship, he very well could have had his heinous plan come to fruition, too. At a hazarded guess, he'd have likely asked to bring his car up the drive, parked it up next to the house, then gone over to the guest house to talk to your mum and boom.
A shiver runs through you, glacial, your insides prickles by the frost of knowing just how close you all came to such mortal peril. Could a vampire even survive a bomb blast?
"No." You shake your head rapidly, swallowing hard. "Don't even think about it. They're all fine."
How can you not, though? Especially when one of them appears behind you, wrapping you in his arms.
"Your mum has just come back again," II speaks quietly, hands stroking your tummy, resting his chin on your shoulder. "She could only manage a few hours of sleep, so she said she'll look after Ivy for the morning while we go to bed. I anticipate you'll likely not be able to sleep too, though, so I'm staying awake."
The strength of his presence is a comfort you aren't about to pass up in insistence he rest right now. "Thank you," you whisper, turning to kiss him, your husband reaching past you to gently stroke one of Ivy's little hands before leading you from her room and down to his.
Unlike you, very unlike your usual tidiness, you let your clothes fall to the floor where you remove them, climbing beneath the duvet, II switching on the bedside lamp on his side before welcoming you against his chest.
"In my many years, taking into account my long list of adversaries, I cannot recall a time where I desired to kill any of them with quite the same ferocity as I would reserve for your father." You mainly expected his comfort, his calming you in your turmoil, but perhaps you truly should have known that out of all of them, it was the Viking warlord who would respond with such intentions. "It is taking much, much restraint not to go down there, break into the cells and throttle him with my bare fucking hands for this."
His love language; it's a mixed bag, really, his strength and security offered usually prevailing. However, when it comes to your emotional well-being or your safety being threatened, it speaks only one dialect; brutality.
Digging your elbow against the pillow just above his shoulder, you rest your head to your hand, your fingers idly tracing the tattoo swirls decorating his chest. "I know, darl. I know." Sighing, your fingertips move to the gritty, dark blonde stubble flecking his jawline.
"I wish you were still king of somewhere, and we were back in time, so your decision could be the final one regarding his fate, you know? Because I'd love to see you hand him that punishment. I fucking hate him so much. I never thought I'd say that about him, even after everything he already did! I was happy to quietly resent him, but hate? Actual hate takes effort he isn't worth, so that only makes me even bloody angrier!"
Your jaw clenches, resting your forehead to his chest with a growl, II stroking your arm, leaning to kiss the tip of your nose when you emerge from beneath your hair. "You can take pleasure in the fact he isn't likely to walk free for a long, long time. What he's done, it's cost him everything. His wife, daughter, freedom, his whole life. You be as angry as you need to be for now, though. There's no need to rush yourself through it, but just remember this. You win, not him."
Not that it should have ever come to that, but he's right. "I mean, what the actual hell was he thinking? A bomb, C bloody four?!" you exclaim, shaking your head. "I just can't quantify it, how he could go to such an extreme!"
"Radicalisation."
Frowning, you crinkle your nose a little. "How do you mean?"
"It's how extremist groups gain in their numbers, isn't it? They prey on people's hatred, brainwash them further with their particular brand of propaganda and then take advantage of it to further their own agenda. I don't believe your dad was acting of his own volition at all, but with the MAVR upping their ante against us undead, it really wouldn't surprise me if they'd redefined their tactics to include acts of domestic terrorism."
God, it didn't even cross your mind that this might not have been an act entirely concocted of his own volition, that he might've had help and cajoling into the facilitation of it. It makes more than perfect sense, though. Logically, it is a very fitting explanation, but you suppose only further evidence gathered by the police will answer that question definitively.
"Wow." You stare at a fixed point across the room, your nails idly trailing over the soft blonde of his chest hairs, absent yet rhythmic. "Wow."
"Sorry, was that not the best time for me to be my usual, blunt self?" he questions, wincing slightly.
"No, no it was. What you said makes perfect sense, it's just so fucking unbelievable that I thought I'd seen the worst of him, and there was another level he could stoop to, apparently!" you cry, closing your eyes tightly, huffing, feeling like your head is about to explode.
He feels it in you, even more so when to remain awake, it means he has to feed on you again to fight the tired, deciding to offer you nothing more than the strong silence of his embrace. The quiet of him, that deadness inside that your daughter seems to find soothing, has exactly the same effect on her mother as well.
You didn't realise you nodded off until you awake with a start, sitting up to see II reading a book. While you might've slept, you feel no fresher for it at all.
"How long was I asleep for?" you ask, reaching for the bottle of water you always keep at the side of the bed and taking a few big gulps.
"Only about twenty minutes." Ahh, that's why, then. Cat naps have never sat particularly well with you. "Do you want me to go and run a bath for you? It might help you relax."
"Maybe later." Taking the book from his grasp, you shift to lie atop him, your tongue circling his nipple until it furls. "You have a particular brand of taking my mind off of something I don't want to think about, and that's what I want. What I need." Running your tongue up his chest, the lick glides up over his throat, ending when your lips meet his. "You. I just want you."
He doesn't need to be asked twice.
In a blink, you're flipped onto your back, the press of his hard body against yours sending the usual familiar blaze burning just beneath your skin. He stares down at you, and you feel your troubles melting away under the hypnotic blue that makes it difficult to think of anything but him.
Sitting up slowly, he reaches beneath your knees, pulling your legs until they rest upon his thighs as he sits back on his heels, his gaze falling to the sight of your splayed sex. He then lets a long trail of spit fall from his lips, chuckling deeply when it hits your clit, a grin tilting his mouth.
"Bullseye."
"Oh, you dirty old vampire," you hum, reaching to run your nails down his arms.
Leaning to you, he teases your lips with the tip of his tongue, kissing you with soft heat. "That's why you love me though, isn't it?"
"That and so much more," you nod, II pushing two fingers against your lips as he sits up once more.
"Suck them." You do, the instant obedience to his command sending a pleasant bolt through his chest. "Mm, good girl. You'll do exactly as I demand from now on, won't you?"
"Mmhm," you hum, flicking your tongue against the underside of his fingers. "Anything you want."
Pulling them from your mouth, he brings them to your folds, evoking a little gasp. "Do you want to know what I want the most?"
Your eyes flutter, rolling back in your head. "Tell me."
"To hold you down and watch you enjoy every last moment of it."
Oh, how you know that you will, feeling his hand move to gently clasp upon your neck, holding you beneath the gentlest of pressure. His other hand continues to stroke your folds, two fingers dipping inside to part the warmth of your walls. Your back arches, moaning in soft bliss, tingles suffusing from the press of his fingers, goosepimples rising over your skin.
He leans to you again, steals kisses from your lips hungrily, tongue invading your mouth like its owed presence there, his hand gently flexing in its hold upon your neck. A smile curls his lips, revealing the flash of a very gratified grin, II watching as you pant for him. “Mm, I love to watch it, how quick you get so mindless for my fingers, hear those pretty moans for me.”
How prettily you moan for him, too, your vampire chasing bolts of bliss through your core, fingers rooted deep in the soaking hug of your walls. You clench, and it makes him growl low, fangs popping as his eyes begin to burn red, imagining feeling the same sensation around his cock.
Burrowing them against your sweet spot, with the kind of merciless precision that sends glimmers suffusing beneath your skin, your hips snap upwards, greedy for more. He knows exactly what it is you keen for, but he makes you wait, chuckles at your need, kisses you messily with heat and sin.
He stares at you intently, tickling your cupid’s bow with the tip of his tongue, receding his fangs before biting it gently, letting your lip slide from between his teeth. The vermilion of his eyes is all but drowned by his blown-out pupils, his tongue circling a lick over your furled nipple, adding speed to his fingers as they begin to pound into you with vigour.
“Fuck, ahhh! Oh, right fucking there!” you cry, clasping his forearm, swallowing hard against the squeeze of his hand still clutching at your neck.
His lips press kisses, like a constellation of stars burning beneath your skin. “Like that?”
Deliberately, you feel his fingers slow, moving in a trawling wave, hitting you over and over in a ceaseless, intense press, robbing your voice from you. “Yes!” you eventually grit, a sharp wave of pleasure shimmering through you, smoky, wet kisses descending until finally, finally.
His tongue dips into your slit, circling with featherlight strokes upon your clit, fingers slipping from you and sinking into your thigh as he grips the muscle, dragging licks through your folds firm and slow, until you’re shaking from it. His fingers still hold your neck, the tips pressing in soft massage, showing the hint of a promise over how tight he could grip you, giving instead the suffusing burn of a gentler dominance.
Each lick is slow, deliberate, tongue warming against your slick, coaxing the fervent pleasure to burn slow and hot, kissing your bud softly before he wraps it in a languid suck. He groans, all gritted baritone as he feels you swelling against his tongue, tingles skipping up your spine as the pressure increases, the vacuum of his lips pulling tighter.
The sweet moans of delight arrow right to his cock, hardening further as he imagines sinking into the soft wet of you, content for that moment to continue sucking the honey of your cunt to trickle thick and hot onto his tongue. Releasing his suck upon you, quickly flickered licks bathe your tender nub, your thighs tensing as you gasp, hands moving to sink into his hair and grasp tightly.
His alternation has you panting hard, the hot, rhythmic roll of each lick sending a hail of little stars skittering over your nerves. The ecstasy of it flutters beneath your skin, nails trawling down his arm, II moving his hand up to slip his fingers into your mouth, emerging from your soaking folds to watch you suck them with a hungry, predatory gaze.
His other hand curls around the thick of his shaft, pumping, his clasp wringing precum to drip onto your mound. “Want me yet?”
“Mm,” you hum around his fingers, biting gently. “I always do.”
He shuffles closer, leaning to scatter kisses over the column of your neck, hands stroking blazing paths of heat over your body as you undulate beneath his touch. His hand then clutches your neck again, squeezing, holding you there as he guides the tip of his cock to your clit and swipes a slow circle against it, until you shake, until his trembles of need merge with yours.
The fat head of his cock presses against you, teasing your streaming, aching hole. It makes you mindless, hips shaking, thighs writhing against his hips as you wrap your legs around him, desperate to pull him close, pull him in. The promise of him filling you cuts sharp at your nerves, and he knows it, rubbing the length of himself through your folds, his cock soaked with you, twitching against your bud.
You think he’s going to make you wait even longer still, leaning to you, kissing you with dirty heat. Finally sinking deep into the wet of you, a burst of sound rumbles through his chest, sparks scraped against your aching walls.
“Fuck, oh my god, fuck! Your cock feels so good!" you babble, feeling drunk on the sensations he evokes already.
His grin is all satisfied smirk, looking down upon you so helplessly spread before him, the slow drag of his cock making you whimper. “You needed that, didn’t you?”
“God, yes I did!” you gasp, pulling him to you. Your mouth claims his, the kiss scorching, burning through you both as you feel him fill you fully, slipping back, that gorgeous, thick cock carving into you again hard. Your whine is drowned out by the depth of his groan, fingers flexing around your neck, holding you there at his mercy.
“Mmm, fuck me.” you pant against his mouth, your kisses a forest fire destroying everything in its path. Your purr has little flint strikes of pleasure sparking in his blood, the feel of him becoming uncontained with you quickly having heat smouldering low in your belly.
Usually, he’d give you more of a build, but he knows it, senses exactly how you need him to be, cock arrowing your insides with sharply delivered thrusts as his hand curls at your neck. His eyes burn virtually black as he stares at you unblinkingly, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip, cock splitting you wide, remaking you around him.
Heat sears through you, held there under the unyielding power of his grasp, pinned beneath his weight as he fucks you with merciless thrusts. Your cunt strains around the girth of him, coating his shaft and drenching him, his thumb moving to begin stroking tight circles of intense ecstasy over your clit.
It punches the breath from your lungs, watching the way his solid muscles tense, almost able to see how the pleasure coils up over him consumes his body like a curling viper. The way he fucks you borders on barbarity, lightning bolts striking through you, II leaning to bite one of your nipples with a carnivorous grunt.
Your slick heat begins fluttering around him, both of you chasing your releases, the violent twitching of his cock spilling deep within you as you cry out until you’re hoarse, clasping him to you. Sweaty, undone and unable to breathe, you’re aware of nothing else but the blaze he evoked as your walls pulse softly around him.
The hard bulk of him coming to rest atop you is steadying in the aftermath, his hand releasing your neck, lips scattering kisses as he holds you to him. You curl into him when he turns onto his side, blanketed in a strong cocoon of tattooed muscles.
He lets you cool down, the bliss ebbing away, pulling your leg up over his hip as he begins to slowly rock his hips back and forth again, filling and emptying you steadily, those warm wells of pleasure pouring in languid trickle down your spine.
Oh, how you have to love the zero recovery time of a vampire.
A hard push has him notched in deep, filling your needy little hole, his head tucked beneath your chin as he kisses your neck. “Gods above, you're so wet. Feel so fucking good.” he groans, hand smoothing up your thigh. The way he fucks himself into the soaking mess of you isn't lost in its tangency as he turs onto his back, driving his hips up from the bed to spear you with long, hard thrusts.
His hands clasp at your bum, keeping you gripped, holding you tightly against him as his cock rakes against every nerve ending, stoking the embers of your desire, kissing you with burning, lazy heat.
You can feel him beginning to shake beneath you, but he doesn’t speed up the trawl of his cock, the pursuit of orgasm undertaken with no greater effort or speed.
He groans low, sucking your tongue as you feel him push deeper, hands moving to run up your back and grasp your shoulders, panting into the fervent kisses you share. He moves his mouth to your neck, sucking a deep bruise onto your pale skin, fangs snapping, biting into you, the rush of desire evoked from feeding on you while he's buried so deep making his cock spasm with a hard kick.
“Mmm, that’s it, my gorgeous vampire,” you purr, those deep groans a little helpless, his muscles twitching. "Let me feel you come in me again."
That deep punch of his cock has you glimmering, moonbeams glowing over your nerves as you squeeze your thighs against his hips, hands clutching his thick biceps, cries torn from your throat.
You’re still cresting as you feel his cock pulsing in you, staring into the crimson storm of his eyes as he fills you with thick ropes of cum, stroking his face and nuzzling him. You whisper words of love, your brain a fuzzy fog of pleasure that throbs gently and ebbs away slowly, II kissing your forehead and carefully untangling himself from you once you've fallen asleep.
While you remain in slumber, he stays at your side for an hour before going for a shower and dressing. Moving downstairs, he smiles, following the noise of the jabbering and your mum's soft tones to the main lounge, finding Ivy lying beneath her baby gym, kicking furiously as she squeezes the toy that emits a series of squeaks.
She beams at him as soon as he comes into her eye line, squealing with excitement to see her daddy.
"My happy little girl," he speaks softly, looking to where your mum rises to her feet. "And her lovely nanny."
"Lovely but tired nanny," she confesses, smiling as he pulls her into a hug.
He drops a kiss atop her head, giving her a little squeeze. "I wasn't about to say it, but you do look shattered. If you want to go home, just say. I can take over with the baby."
"I'm fine," she speaks, patting his shoulder before they both sit down on the floor either side of Ivy, II reaching to let her grasp his finger. "Well, I'm not bloody fine, far from it, but I doubt I'd sleep even if I tried again. I kept poor Oliver awake for half the night, and he's had to go to work exhausted."
"That man adores you," he assures her. "Trust me, after last night I think he more than understands why you can't sleep. Grace only dropped off at just before eight. I hope she stays asleep, between being with Ivy all day and then trying to spend as much time as she can with us at night, coupled now with all this shit with Gary, she needs her rest."
She sighs, running her hand through her dark blonde hair, beginning to gather it all up and twist it into a messy bun she secures with the scrunchie previously around her wrist. "Is that really the man I married, II? God above, I just… I'm blank. Words fail me. When that nice police officer, what's his name, Eric?"
"Aric," he quickly corrects.
"Right, him. When he started mentioning terrorism, it just rocked me to bloody bits. Terrorism, Gary! Of all bloody people!"
He raises his eyebrows, widening his hands expressively. "That's what they call it when those kind of explosives come into play, especially too when the perpetrator has a political or ideological motive for it, which I very much think Gary did. He didn't want his daughter married to a family of vampires, so he sought to remove them. I think that was his plan, not to hurt either of you. I could be wrong, though, because the man is clearly out of his mind."
She nods, beginning to chew the edge of her thumb. "You're right, goodness knows what propaganda he was getting himself further brainwashed by, fuelling his existing persecution of your kind." Shaking her head, she reaches to stroke his face. "Thank goodness you're all fine. I love you all so much, and as the mother-in-law to vampires it's the last flippin' thing on my mind, having to worry about you dying!" she scoffs, eyes widening. "Immortal or not, I don't suppose there's much coming back from a bomb blast."
He hums a dark chuckle. "I wouldn't like to gamble on it, personally. I don't fancy being a head in a jar, like on Futurama."
Tanya snorts with laughter, reaching to smack his arm softly. "Don't even joke!"
"Made you laugh, though, didn't it?"
In truth, she really needed to. "It did, although it doesn't feel appropriate, given what we nearly faced." Mulling her words over for a second, she continues, picking up one of Ivy's soft, fuzzy bricks and handing it to her. "Although nearly is the operative word there. We're all fine, and he's currently languishing in a cell. Where he bloody belongs."
She'll go back and forth in her mood, he realises, because that is exactly how trauma works. Finding out that you ex-husband isn't the person you thought he was, to this kind of degree, definitely counts as a traumatic event. "That he does, sweet girl. But you have the love and strength of your family surrounding you, though. We'll get you through it, just as we did with your divorce."
Her smile is wide, reaching to stroke his arm fondly, her hand lowering to softly rub Ivy's back. "Thank you. If you're okay with little one by yourself, I think I might go and see if I can take a nap?"
II stands, gesturing in the direction of the door. "Don't let me stop you, we're fine. Is IV up yet? I can feel III has gone to rest."
It still feels strange for him, not to have a link there with his youngest sibling since he returned as a human. "Yeah, he's outside working out."
Your mum departs for the guest house, II taking Ivy in the direction of the back door. Scanning around in the boot cupboard, he finds the perfect thing to protect himself, putting up the massive golfing umbrella and stepping out into the daylight, the shade of it completely concealing him as he approaches where IV is doing sit ups on the patio.
"What the fucking hell are you doing outside?" he roars, eyes like saucers.
"Coming to see you, you twat," he sniffs, glancing upwards. "I'm nicely covered, too."
IV scrambles to his feet, pointing wildly at the back door. "Get the bloody hell back in, for fucks sake! What if there's a sudden break in the clouds and you get smacked with a beam of light?"
The vampire shrugs, looking around. "Not much chance of that, is there? It's December, and we live in England. I'm fine."
The pointing persists. "I'm done now, so if you can stop trying to give me a heart attack, I'd appreciate it!"
II sighs, walking back in through the doors and turning a corner before putting the umbrella down again, throwing it back where he found it as IV scowls at him. "Oh, you do love me, then?" he jokes, IV punching him in the back. "Oi, less of the violence when I've got the baby."
"I think the young people refer to it as being triggered," he huffs, shaking his head, II suddenly realising his folly.
"Ahh, fuck. Sorry, IV," he winces, "didn't think for a second there. I just wanted to come and find you, give little miss here some fresh air, too."
"Just let me take her out next time," he offers, "now I've got the tics under control with the microdosing."
Coming to a stop in the kitchen, II takes a seat, watching as Ivy grasps the pendant around his neck and begins playing with it. "Yeah, you haven't held her yet, have you?"
Turning to him, he crinkles his nose a little. "I ain't, no, but I'm all sweaty."
II shrugs. "Just don't drip on her." Handing her over, IV takes her with a smile, realising the gravitas of the moment in how he's had trust extended to him in holding the most precious thing there is to his sibling. Next to you, of course.
He might have only been returned home for two months, but in moments like this, it feels like he's never been away.
"Hello, small person," he chirps, Ivy looking up at him with a big, gummy grin. While she hasn't been held by him up until this point, she's certainly gotten used to his presence as one of her family, the cadence of his voice, the way he pulls the kind of faces that have her giggling brightly. "You poor little mite, looking more and more like your old man every day, eh? You'll be nearly as tall as him soon."
"Go fuck yourself," her father mutters, IV booming with laughter, Ivy joining in with some adorable baby chuckles. "Look, turning my own baby against me now!"
IV gives her a little tickle, evoking more giggles, smiling as he begins to laugh. He feels fortunate to have experienced this, welcoming a tiny human into the family as a human himself. Truly, though, it was more Ivy welcoming his return. Even so, if he'd never died, he'd have likely taken a minimal interest in the prospect of a human entering the family dynamic, cold and indifferent as he was towards them.
How, he wonders while smiling at the jabbering little one in his arms, anyone could be indifferent to something as lovely as her, he'll never know. She reminds him of sunshine personified, except for when she's howling so loudly, the sound could crack the crown moulding of whatever room she happens to be in.
"Right, you, back to your dad while I go shower and change." He kisses the top of her little blonde head, noting the little wisps of strawberry there, smiling. She might be II's double, but there are very noticeable traces of her beautiful mother right there, too.
Speaking of you, once he's shower fresh and dressed, IV creeps into II's bedroom quietly to drop a kiss atop your sleeping head.
"Love you, sugar." he smiles, leaving again just as quietly as he came. To see you still in slumber is a relief to him, knowing that the events of last night have taken a toll emotionally. This, coupled with your permanent exhaustion as a new mother means four sets of watchful eyes are going to do everything in their power to try and make life as easy as possible for you, going forward. Letting you sleep for as long as you need to being just one luxury their love and care will afford you.
Walking back through the house, his attention is grabbed by the call of 'I'm in here' just before he is about to pass the corridor leading to the library, IV swerving and heading down to join his sibling in his most sacred of spaces.
"Bloody hell, did you move these from Norton House, or repurchase?" he asks, his eyes flitting over the many shelves crammed full with books both old and new.
"I took the treasured volumes, but you know those come everywhere with me when we move," II begins, gently rocking Ivy before placing her in her bassinet to the side of the big Chesterfield sofa, one his sibling moves to and takes a seat upon. He joins him, smiling, reaching out to grip his arm. "With everything that's been going on, and my time so devoted to my daughter, I don't think we've had a moment just to sit together and talk, have we?"
"No, no we haven't," he replies, looking a little sheepish, scratching his neck as he looks away from the piercing gaze of his Viking sibling. "I'm sorry, II. You always said that if I struggled in my vampirism, or anything, I could have come to you. When Ves didn't wake up after the bonding, I should have done that, sought your wisdom, and I didn't. Sorry, I don't mean to like, get all serious, but I need you to know that."
It was what tormented him the most in the aftermath of his death, II lying broken on the kitchen floor, you, him and III in a heap of despair while the whole time, he had the same question ring through his head like a siren. Why didn't he come to him?
Opening his arms, he jerks his head back a little. "Fucking come here." IV shuffles nearer, feeling his chest tighten as they embrace. "I love you so bloody much. I meant it, you know, what I said to you all those years ago, up in Scotland, after the priest had been committed to the fucking ocean in a silver box."
IV grips him tighter, his eyes filling with tears as those very words echo back across the ages, replaying in his mind like a taped recording. 'You are strong, you are more than what happened to you. If you ever struggle with that, come to us. To me. We’re your family now, we’ll see you through it, no matter how dark or ugly. We’re here for you now, IV.'
"I know you did, but my head…" He pulls back, wiping his eyes on the heel of his palm. "Fucking so messed up. I'm good with it now, though. Ain't about to go off on any wild tangents. M, wherever she is, can take full credit for that. She's fucking wonderful, proper sorted it all out, that mess I carried and couldn't heal."
"When they can be trusted, witches are incredible creatures," II speaks, eyes looking upon him thoughtfully. "How do you feel about it all now? From the explanation we received upon your arrival home, I take you aren't bothered by it? There's no lingering trauma?"
A shaky hand gesture is made in response to those questions. "I still feel sad about it, for the little kid in me who went through that, but no, No more trauma. I don't blame myself for it any longer either, or think I'm worthless cos' of what I went through."
A wide smile broadens the vampire's mouth, reaching to grasp his wrist. "You've no idea how happy it makes me, hearing those words. If there is ever a time you need an ear, though, for whatever reason, there are two right here for you." His words are acknowledged with a nod, II continuing. "Are you planning on being turned straight away when you can be, then? February 6th? Bob'll shit bricks, with us having to go and dig a grave out there on the grounds. He's very particular about his grass."
"He ain't half!" IV barks on a laugh, eyebrows arching. "I got the sit down mower out the other day, thought it was dry enough to give it a trim down and he shooed me off it! And yeah, yeah I was gonna wait a bit longer, but I don't think I want to. Being human has its advantages in certain places, but like, I'm too used to being undead. I miss it. I think I'll feel really like me again as soon as I'm turned."
II sits back and attempts to imagine it, returning to this earth from the realm of the dead as a human. For him, being undead for the thousand plus years that he has been, it is simply unimaginable for him to recall an existence that wasn't gleamed with his immortality. "I think you will, too," he agrees. "It's the final piece in the puzzle to fall into place."
A warm flush of acceptance presses in around his heart, IV feeling restored for this moment in time with his elder sibling, a vampire he has always looked up to so highly. As a human, he was, after all, a famously fearless, ferocious man, a warrior who not only looked death square in the eye, but usually contemptuously spat in it, too.
They were worlds apart in how their lives shaped them. This time around, IV stands as a human much less broken, the fragile pieces that refused to mend now fully assembled back on a foundation which - while it will never be quite akin to II's - stands under a footing set to never break down beneath him again.
They sit in comfortable conversation for the remainder of the afternoon, the darkness drawing in and bringing with it both your waking after a blissful nine hours of sleep, as well as the presences of III and Ves.
"No, Sproggy Pants. No chewing the necklace," III speaks, trying to take it from Ivy's grasp. "Nope, Ivy! Abort, I'm wearing cologne, it doesn't taste good!" Smell good? God yes, he smells amazing. The taste? Oh, how your baby is about to fuck around and find out there. Bringing it to her mouth again, she gums it, III shaking with laughter before he explodes along with the rest of you at the sour, scrunched up face she pulls.
"You were warned, my little sweet!" you laugh, taking her from him and blowing a raspberry on her tummy.
"Since when have you worn a scent, other than stale sex?" IV snorts, raising an eyebrow.
"Since the wife decided she was feral for me in… what's it called?"
"Dark Cherry," you confirm. Of course, he paid no notice to the name. You just sprayed him in it and then spent a good few minutes huffing his neck like a drug addict. He cares not for the finer details, only the effect it has upon you.
You all move through to the kitchen shortly after, Ivy taking her bedtime feed while you lean back in Ves's embrace, the five of you chatting about the upcoming festive period.
"I've got some tequila blood!"
"Oh, fuck no," IV grumbles at III's declaration. "Not again, you know that stuff hits you harder than anything else!"
"Ahh, shut up! It'll be great, can't bloody wait. I fucking love wasted Christmas!" He then points between Ves and II, shaking with laughter. "You two, absolutely high as balls the first year Grace was with us, lying on the floor in the lounge, arguing over your hallucinations!"
Turning back to Ves, you snort a soft laugh, remembering it well. "I take it you'll be buying magic mushroom blood again this year, yeah?"
He hums, grinning widely. "I already have, darling. I am taking full advantage of the fact your wonderful mother has nominated herself as the sober person, so none of us have to worry about being on baby duty."
Indeed, you hugged your mum very, very tightly when she offered such recently, deciding to give the wine and beer a rest since she's been enjoying herself 'way too much for a woman of my age' as she worded it. Plus, your aunt Mel and uncle Chris will be coming up for the festivities, too, and if there is one thing she cannot do, it's keep up with her sister and brother-in-law. Your uncle has already vouched to begin lining up shots as soon as he's through the door.
Some people, like your mum, realise that age counts against them with the excess of too much boozy fun. Your aunt and uncle? Not so much.
After bringing up Ivy's wind, you take her up to bed just as Ves receives a telephone call, the reason behind which revealed to you upon your return to find them all in the main lounge.
"That was Aric on the phone, just bringing us up to speed with the case against your father," he begins, steepling his fingers together as you take a seat between IV and III. "Your dad's initial co-operation dried out mid-second interview, but after liaising with Argyll and West Dunbartonshire police, the B&B was raided earlier this morning and a mountain of evidence found. He, as II deduced, had links to various anti-vampire organisations. The hard drive of his computer is still being assessed, but what they tentatively assume so far through items they have discovered is that he planned this to be a suicide bombing. His plan, it appears, was to feign car trouble and get as many of us vampires as he could out to help him with it, all in timing with the pre-determined detonation."
At hearing this, your blood runs cold, the once relaxed atmosphere of the house seeming to thicken considerably at the revelation of his awful, hideously cruel plan to eradicate as many of your husbands as he could. His plan coming to fruition doesn't bear thinking about, the only reason why he wasn't being that your dad and his temper can seldom be negotiated with. It was seeing Oliver there with you mum that saved their lives, yet another reason to be thankful for him coming into hers in the way that he did.
"In the words of my favourite aunt, shitting hell," you breathe, leaning into III's space, his arms coming around you as IV rests a supportive hand to your thigh. "I really don't know what else to say."
"Take your time with it, babe," the former speaks quietly, pressing a kiss atop your head. "It's a fucking lot to get your head around."
The room and everyone in it awaits your further thoughts in silence, although you can see their own thoughts on it simply by reading their faces. II looks like he wants to storm the police station and show in brutal detail just why he was known as Magnus the Bloody, Ves simmers with the quiet rage that never fails to set you on edge, III bounces his leg in agitation and IV frowns deeply, his eyes fixed on a point across the space.
"It is a lot, but I don't want it." You look at all of them in turn, your smile fond. "He didn't win. I still have you all, and he's lost everything. I don't want to give that vile man a second of my thoughts. He isn't worth my time."
Ves lifts his chin, smiling at you with proudness. "I think that is the correct attitude to adopt, my darling. Humans such as him are mere wasted breath."
"Even so," II grits, clenching his fists. "I still want to take a hatchet to his skull."
Unsurprising, really. You eyes find his, puckering your lips in a kiss, your Viking winking, his mouth flickering into a half smile. "I think after everything, I'd do little to stop you, if it was a perfect world and you could do it and not be caught. But yeah, what Ves said is right. He's wasted breath."
A few moments of silence pass between you again, only the sound of the fire flickering filling the huge space, III suddenly pointing. "Fucking hell, look!"
Four sets of eyes turn to follow his finger, and your face lights up in an instant. "No! It is not bloody snowing!"
"Hm, the weather forecast did say that the snow storm hitting the south of Wales might indeed make its way further into the mainland," Ves speaks, rising too.
In England, for it to be snowing so heavily in December in this part of the country is a rarity, but there it is, fluttering down in a beautiful cascade of pure white from the inky skies above. Standing, you move to the window, someone racing rapidly to switch off the lights in order to get the best view of the snowfall before the four of them join you at the window.
"It looks even more beautiful out there, covered in white." II speaks, watching the flurry gaining momentum. The snows he has witnessed in the UK do not even touch the frigid wastelands his home country turn into come winter, but at least now he can appreciate them in much more comfortable surroundings than when he was human.
Looking out over the estate, you smile, leaning to rest your head against IV's shoulder, wrapping your arm around him, the other reaching to stroke Ves's back while you all stand silently and appreciate the sight. The loveliest one, though, you have to say, is what the window reflects back. You, your four husbands, with a roaring fireplace and a Christmas tree twinkling away in the background.
If there was ever a sight worth appreciating for all it's simplistic beauty, it's that.
Did you enjoy what you just read? If so, please help your author out by commenting/reblogging. If you want to be added to the taglist, please do let me know, too!
i absolutely love the A&O series and have fallen in love with Grace just as much as our token boys, but i was wondering if you’d ever go back to writing other kinds of one shots about the ST lads?
Oh I love to hear this! 🥹🤍 and yes, I have been trying to think of a few one shots as I’m keen to continue them, but right now my brain is pretty fried with my day job most of the time 😔 Hopefully I’ll be able to come up with something soon, though!
@cillmequick be there? Babe, I am officiating this union. In full swamp witch regalia and little antlers dressing my wild hair while @call-sign-shark swims around in figure of eight zoomies at my feet.
@cillmequick be there? Babe, I am officiating this union. In full swamp witch regalia and little antlers dressing my wild hair while @call-sign-shark swims around in figure of eight zoomies at my feet.
Do you think you'll ever write a prequel to the series too?🩵
I think about this a lot, you know! I might do some one shot style stories as a peek into their human years one day. I did start writing one for III but I haven't done much work on it since. I need a shot in the arm for some serious energy as I'm so tired right now, my brain is creatively lagging!
Hello, darling. I absolutely love your Alex Terrible fics and I was wondering if you plan on writing any new stories with him soon? Appreciate your work, much love 😘
Hello, love! If I get inspiration for him then yes, I definitely will :D I am not done with the big Russian king just yet <3
Silly, silly thoughts; personal headcanon that II and Aric are quietly besties, having immediately clocked each other's native origins. On Aric's nights off, he and II teach each other their native sparring techniques, both just physical and armed. Playful armed vampire speed combat scares the daylights out of Grace and she insists that they use plastic. Which, Ves is wildly amused at how much money is now going to constantly replacing plastic weaponry. Svartr becomes a proper warhorse under his influence.
OHMYGOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! I might have to include something like this in the sequel. With Grace and Aric's wife just standing there in despair like "NO STOP IT!!" and the kids all squealing with excitement xD
Hii, is a&o ending soon??🥺🥺🥺🥺Bc j just saw ch 23 and i swear i read that there are only gonna be like 25 chapters??!!
It is, yes. I am planning on chapter 26 being the last, unless I find I've blathered on for too long and then I will do a 27th chapter. I am making notes for a sequel at present, though! :)
It's here, guys! The chapter you've all been (not so quietly) waiting for! :D Enjoy!
Summary: A year has passed since the events that left your newly formed family shattered, the four of you continuing to move ahead with your lives as best you can. The introduction of new equal rights laws for vampires across the United Kingdom marks a significant turning point, offering hope and the promise of greater acceptance. With these changes, you and II feel empowered to finally take the next step towards expanding your family, beginning to plan for the arrival of a child.
However, the journey towards this new chapter is not without its uncertainties. A new friend, with the best of intentions, offers some advice that despite your judgement, lingers in the back of your mind. Regardless of the strength of your bond and the depth of your commitment, you find yourself questioning whether these concerns hold any merit.
Your trust in the resilience of your marriage remains steadfast, and you dismiss the warning as unfounded. Yet, as time unfolds, those doubts prove harder to ignore. It is only when envy emerges unexpectedly - affecting one of the vampires you hold dear - that the true challenge reveals itself, threatening the peace and unity you have worked so hard to build.
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two
Words: 5,478
Warnings: Vampire fic, mentions of blood and gore, plus lots of smut. 18+ content, minors DNI!
Tag list: In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.
He does a thorough job of hiding it for a few moments, the fact he's slowly eating himself alive with nerves over this, the sexual reconnection he's been longing for. The way his body tenses at the contact of your hands, no matter how sweetly familiar your touch is, signals that something is amiss with your beautiful love.
"What's wrong?" you ask, IV groaning and shaking his head, resting it down upon your chest. "Matt, come on. Talk to me."
Whenever you use his born name, he knows you mean business, that business in this instance discovering the cause of him winding too tight, loaded like a coiled spring.
He sighs, looking back up at you. "I'm nervous."
Oh. Oh, bless him. "Why, though? It isn't like you haven't had sex with me dozens of times before, is it?"
"Yeah, yeah I know," he replies slowly, biting his lip. "It's just that I was a vampire then, and I know that's the kind of lover you've gotten used to. Now I'm back and, well, I'm human, ain't I? Not gonna be able to give you the kind of pounding you get from the other three." He snorts with bashful laughter, reaching to stroke the sides of your face with his thumbs. "That crack I made about twenty seconds? Nah. Probably more true than I ever meant it to be."
Sitting up a little, you remember being like this the first time you were with him, his nerves getting in the way of enjoying the moment. Last time, though, it was for very different reasons. "Darl, I don't care if it is twenty seconds! I get to enjoy what I thought was impossible; having sex with my gorgeous husband again. You have no idea how much I longed for you when you weren't here." Leaning to him, you capture his lips in a kiss, pulling him closer into your arms. "We can take it slow. It's fine, don't stress."
Your words are a balm to his frayed nerves, IV settling into the kisses, clothes beginning to be removed as the slow, exploratory reconnection continues. A body against yours that's immediately warm feels almost foreign to you now that you're so accustomed to the cool skin of a vampire, but it isn't unwelcome, your heart fluttering as he moves his mouth to plant kisses over your neck.
You squirm, shifting, causing his body to sink lower into the cradle of your thighs, and his hot, hard cock presses right against your centre. You feel yourself growing wet just from that, a swathe of heat fluttering over you as his mouth locks with yours once more. Your kisses gain urgency, his hands gentle in their cup upon your breasts.
"Fucking hell," he pants, head dipping to kiss the rise of each. "These are about two sizes bigger than I remember."
He's gentle with you, remembering your frequent bemoaning of tender boobs from breastfeeding, his kisses softly steeped in heat and drifting back to your neck while your hands move to unfasten his jeans. Pushing against his chest, you turn him, IV happily moving to his back as you strip him, removing his t shirt himself before reaching out to slip a finger between your undies, giving the elastic a little twang.
He winks at you, and your tummy tingles pleasantly. "Get 'em off, sugar."
Rising to your feet, you slip them down your thighs, planning to flick them from your foot and praying to the gods of balance and poise that you don't wobble and end up on the floor in an unceremonious, embarrassed heap. They must be smiling down upon you, the action executed flawlessly, sinking back to your knees to smooth your hands over his torso.
God, he's stunning to your eyes. Completely stunning.
You press a kiss to his chest, hands exploring him, taking in the newer shape of his workout honed-physique. He isn't chiselled by any means, that gorgeous little hint of soft tummy still there, but there's more definition than you remember. Your mouth moves lower, tongue pressing a flat lick over the line of hair leading from his navel, evoking a gritty groan.
His body suddenly quivers violently, at it momentarily pulls you from the softly pulsing realms of hazy heat, your eyes finding his.
"Wasn't a tic." He reaches for your face, cupping your cheek, thumb stroking over your lips. "That was you, gorgeous."
Smiling, you pucker a kiss against his thumb, head dipping, lips continuing their downward path. Your hand curls around his cock, and the contact pulls a quiet murmur from him, that sound deepening when you close your mouth around the head and suck softly.
The taste of him bursts across your tongue, and it makes your heart skip a beat, little pearls of precum wetting your tongue as you take him further into the clutching heat of your mouth. His chest begins to rise and fall a little quicker, hands moving to tangle in your hair, your happy hum giving him a thrilling vibration against the heft of his shaft.
Your mouth slips up and down, his shakes becoming more intense, your centre beginning to throb as you remember it, the feeling of him doing this inside of you, that perfect curve of his cock dragging heat through your walls. You're wet for him, your inner thighs becoming glossy with it, aching to feel him fill you.
His stare is molten blue, pupils inking, mouth agape as he groans, bright bursts of pleasure sparking up his spine. "Ahh, fuck yeah, that's too good!" he hisses, hips rising a little, body trembling beneath the continued sweeping of your hands across his skin. Feeling his heart hammering beneath your palm is entirely foreign to you, but there's something staggeringly beautiful in experiencing it. Those caresses trail down to his thighs, his body humming with the pleasure of it, his cock pulsing against your tongue as he hardens further, tickling the back of your throat.
Long, wet sucks have him mindless, mere static replacing any tangible thoughts beyond how incredible it feels, having him yearning, keening for more.
"Please, baby," he gasps, hands tightening in your hair. "Fuck me."
It sets your blood to scorch, hearing him so needy for you, releasing his cock with a soft slurp, climbing astride him. Guiding his cock to your streaming opening, you lower onto him, the gaze you share unmatched in intensity as finally, you're truly joined once more.
Feeling him notching into you, the heat of his solid cock sends glimmers through you, pushes breath from your lungs. You gasp at the full press of him, biting your lip on a sob, your eyes glittering glassily. He shushes the tears that threaten to spill, sitting up, arms clasping around you tightly as he nuzzles you, his ridiculously cute nose brushing yours.
He tells you without words, with every trace of his fingers across your skin, every soft breath against your lips, his eyes two bright pools of paradise, that he is home and never abandoning you again.
Those tender gestures have your heart fluttering, melting into the warmth of his embrace as your mouths meet, the heat between your flickering as your love blooms fully, wraps tightly around you both. Your walls pulse on him, and it draws a shuddered breath from his throat as he rests his forehead to yours, the sound a little helpless, his fingertips raining loving caresses down your cheeks.
"There will never be a time or a place in the eternity I'll soon step back into, where I don't love you endlessly from the root of my soul and back."
You whimper at that stunningly beautiful, unexpected declaration, and he kisses it from your lips, moaning softly as your tongues gently swirl. The pace you set is slow at first, the sensations of impossibly tender love and throbbing desire duelling within, the fat press of his cock nudging against the deepest parts of you with every steady roll of your hips.
You're overcome with it, the absolute ecstasy of having him inside you once more, a bonfire of pleasure sizzling deep, IV running his hands up your back and pulling you down against him. Your kisses resume, all smoke and honey, the syrupy heat of it pulsing thickly in your veins, a helpless cry splintering your throat as he begins to meet each undulation with a sharp upward punt.
You feel drunk on it, happily allowing him to dictate the pace, his cock plunging deeper, the hard bumping of him against your summit sending glimmers skittering up your centre, so bright you feel the fireworks of it erupting in your chest.
He slows then, fingertips trailing your cheeks. "Mmm, I really fucking missed being balls deep in this pretty little pussy."
"Yeah," you breathe, kissing him sensuously. "I missed having you inside it. For way longer than those twenty seconds you anticipated, too."
He chuckles, a sexy, deep rumble. "Don't overestimate me too much, sugar. I'm having to think of Boris Johnson in a bikini to stop myself from blowing my load whenever I get a bit too close!"
Your laugh comes out on a long snort, giggling through every laboured breath. "Well, if it works!"
That little moment of levity abates, both focusing once again on the utter divinity of it. You sit up, hands clasping on his shoulders, impaling yourself down on him so hard, your thighs shake. His hands move to your hips, gripping, little divots sunk into your pale flesh, holding you steady, forcing you to take the powerful brunt of him punching into you vigorously.
It feels more like fucking then, the rhythmic clap of you skin slapping together filling the air, your eyes fixed onto his, silently urging him to lose control with the sultry heat of your gaze. He does, moving like a piston inside you, the bed shaking beneath, IV abruptly ceasing those deliriously hard thrusts and exiting the soaking mess of you, shuffling down the bed until his head is level between your thighs.
A hungry swipe flattens against your folds, and he grunts gutturally, tasting you again for the first time, all that slick nectar his cock has stirred bathing his tongue. Each lick gilds you, the sure press igniting your embers, having you gasping when it flutters over where you need it most.
"Oh… fuck, ohhh!" you cry, his tongue teasing circles over your clit, little lightning strikes flickering into life as you sway back and forth.
His hand moves to slap your bum, a hard spank almost unseating you if it wasn't for the other gripping the round of your bum. "Fuck yeah, gorgeous. Ride my mouth."
Another spank tingles upon your flesh, the sting delightful, the soft little ruts of your hips against his face deepening the press of his tongue on your bud. He knows you need more, his cheeks hollowing as he wraps you in a firm suckle, eyes glittering, his hands slowly, sensuously smoothing up and down your back.
The syrupy warmth of pleasure begins to pool deep, your thighs quivering, his suck intensifying before releasing to slick over you with firm, wet glides, his tongue utterly ruining you. Your brain goes white, chest heaving, and he knows he has you. You feel him smile against your puffy sex, rumbling a soft moan of contentment, each lick coming faster and firmer.
It hits you so suddenly, it's almost painful, the riptide of pleasure that swells and crashes, soaks you to your bones, flushes through your entire body and leaves you panting. In the delirium of it, he tosses you gently onto you back, hands widening your thighs, his cock arrowing into you fully. The burning pleasure of him rooted deep flares through you, IV sinking back and forth as he holds his weight on his forearms, forehead pressed to yours, panting into the kisses you share.
A desperate groan bursts over your tongue, his thrusts becoming staccato, knowing he's close. You encourage it, and the merciless pounding of your body into the bed has you gasping at the thick fill of him bumping into you deep, your walls fluttering around him again as the grind of his body brings you back to boil.
His body shivers as he finds his release, your nails tearing down his back propelling it, the weight of him settling atop yours as you both swim hazily in bliss. Hands stroke lovingly, kisses shared, breath fought to be caught. It's tender, beautiful, IV nuzzling you, enjoying the way your walls pulse in after spasms around him.
"Give me about half an hour, and I wanna do all of that again." he finally speaks, stroking your neck, mouth pressing to yours once again. In fact, his refresh rate is a little quicker, not that you're really timing it, both of you remaining absconded to the bedroom for another half an hour before he quickly jumps in the shower, leaving you to climb in and get fresh while he goes to make a start on a very late dinner.
"Wheeeeey!"
Of course, his siblings heard. "Why are you two milling around in here, eh?"
"Heard you say you were off to cook dinner, so we thought we'd come and congratulate you for finally getting a good seeing to from the missus, didn't we, short arse?"
II gives III the kind of look that could curdle milk over his short arse comment, as ever. "We did," he confirms, grinning at IV. "Welcome back to the world of sex, even if it means a few less nights we get with her now. Wanker."
IV tips his head back, laughing, making his way to the fridge. "Yeah, sorry for being alive again and all that," he jokes, suddenly being halted by a wide eyed III.
"Fucking hell, look at the state of that!" Turning him to face II, his face is a picture of delight, index finger waving up and down the length of his back. "Look at all of them! You look like you've had a map of Great Britain's roads clawed into your back!"
All three are in hysterics at that, II collapsed down against the island, IV shoving his way past III, going to pull the pack of steaks from the fridge he's earmarked for dinner. "Well, she's always been a scratcher, ain't she? It's just I don't heal now, so whatever. I'll wear my war wounds with pride."
III pops his fangs out. "Want a bit of healing? They do kinda look sore, mate."
"Nah," IV replies with a sniff. "I'm good. Quite like the sting, actually."
"And you all call me a deviant," III mutters, fangs receding again.
"You are!" The joint chorus of his siblings has him laughing, grinning proudly, moving to take a seat while IV goes back to the fridge to contemplate what else he's making with the two slabs of thickly sliced sirloin.
"So, fucking hell," he speaks grabbing the butter, carrots and asparagus spears, "Grace's dad got nicked then, eh?"
"Couldn't have happened to a nicer bloke," II sneers with sarcasm. "Thank fuck I was literally holding the baby, or I'd have been down there too for rearranging his fucking skull with my fists."
"And that would have been something Aric could not have easily turned a blind eye to," Ves speaks smoothly, appearing in the kitchen and moving to the kettle. "But suffice to say, Gary is in the best place he can be right now. Locked up away from our wife and mother-in-law." He then points to IV's back, biting back a smirk. "Had a good time, have we?"
"We have," IV replies with a wink, putting butter into a frying pan before moving to wash the vegetables in the sink. He awaits a little further banter, running the tap and throwing the vegetables into the smaller section of the porcelain sink. Suddenly, a deafening noise reverberates through the house, prompting a shocked exclamation from III.
"What the fucking hell was that?" he cries out, his alarm echoed by II and Ves as they exchange glances, the elder vampires on high alert. The source of the disturbance is unclear, and the tension is palpable as each tries to make sense of what they've just heard.
"Car crashing into something?" IV suggests, all of them moving from the kitchen swiftly.
II is quick to reject the idea, shaking his head emphatically. "Your ears didn't pick up on it like ours did, and that noise was no damned car crash," he insists, the certainty in his voice hinting at something far more sinister.
Without another word, he vanishes at speed, leaving the others in a suspenseful silence as they reach the welcome hall. Mere seconds later, he returns, urgency etched across his face as he gestures in the direction of the driveway. His eyes are wide as he delivers the grim news: "That bang? It was a car exploding into flames, and taken half the fucking front wall and gate with it. The smell? I know that smell, too. It wasn't just a car having a problem and the fuel tank catching. It was loaded with fucking C4."
The revelation sends a shockwave through them, II and III taking the stairs at a high speed zoom to locate you and Ivy, Ves calling the police, and IV standing feeling a little useless before running to the laundry, pulling on a sweater and then going out across the property to the guest house at a run to find your mum and Oliver.
Naturally, they're outside already, eyes wide as they look down the long driveway to where a gigantic fireball burns bright orange through the gloom of the cold night. The end of the drive is a good three hundred feet away, and yet the heat of the explosion can be felt even from their vantage point of safety up by the main house.
"What the bloody hell is going on?" she cries after jogging over to him, her hand grasping at his. "Is everyone alright?"
"We're fine, we're all okay," he assures, soothing her concern immediately. "We were inside when it happened, it just fucking blew up. I thought it was a car crashing into something, but II went out to look and came back to tell us he thinks it was C4. He knows the smell of explosives, happened to be in London when there was a terrorist attack close to the hotel he was staying in, back when the IRA were still blowing people to buggery."
"Christ alive!" Oliver gasps, watching as the inferno continues, blue lights becoming visible upon the horizon. "The bloody protestors, I take it? Leaving a car behind with the intention of causing this?"
IV's eyes widen. "I'd say so, mate. Yeah, fucking hell."
Realising that the explosion was no mere unfortunate accident, but a deliberate act of destruction weights in heavily on everyone present, you and the rest of your family coming to congregate outside, Ivy bundled up in her fleecy baby blanket, still happily snoozing in her uncle's arms.
The response of the emergency services whirls in an efficient storm around you, police arriving in droves, the local fire service just as prompt to begin their valiant efforts in containing the blaze, Aric once again on the scene.
"Ya's all okay, everyone accounted for?" he asks concernedly, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah we're okay. A bit shaken, but okay," you confirm on a shaky breath, his dark eyes softening.
"Don't blame you, pet. Right, there's officers on the way with sniffer dogs, and they'll do a full patrol of the grounds and the house. I doubt there's anything nefarious on the property, like, but you can't be too careful." He then nods in II's direction. "If you've got the horses out in the fields, go bring 'em in. Pop 'em in the arena, I want all the buildings to have the dogs sent around first, but they need to be out of the way of the boundaries."
The horses are tucked up in their stables, II and Ves moving rapidly to take them out and put them down in the arena with a few slices from a hay bale to keep them pacified. Honey provides a little levity there, too, eating directly - and with gusto - from the half bale of hay Ves carries over one shoulder while she's lead away from the barn. All while flattening her ears and squealing at Svartr if he dares try and take a bite, Ves advising her to 'bloody behave.'
The cold night air is thick with tension and the acrid tang of smoke, a grim reminder of the dangers that were silently lurking just outside your gates. As the fire crews battle tirelessly to tame the raging flames, the police begin methodically cordoning off the area, blue lights swirling across the house and casting jittery shadows over the old stone exterior. Despite the chaos, you find some comfort in the familiar, steady presence of your family, everyone keeping close, Ivy dozing obliviously amid the upheaval.
The sniffer dogs arrive, two taking a tour of the house, guest house and cottage, deeming everything to be clear and allowing your entrance back inside before they move to search the grounds and perimeters of the property. Settling Ivy down to sleep, while Ves is talking with a couple of other officers, you lead Aric into the study to take a look at the last couple of hours footage recorded by the CCTV down at the front gates.
"Woah, slow it down." His hand covers yours on the mouse, clicking pause, and you wheel yourself back so he can take control of flicking through the recording. When the images slow, a cold pit opens cavernously in your stomach, your hands flying to cover your mouth as you gasp.
"That's my bloody dad's car!"
You didn't even notice it earlier, with the swarm of protestors all milling around the gates, plus the fact that where you've just witnessed it pull up was beneath a cluster of trees about ten feet from the entrance. There it is, though, the unmistakable silver 2015 Mercedes CLK estate.
"He, he planned to bring it up here, and… and…" you stammer, eyes filling with tears. In that moment, Aric acts more like the friend he's become to you all rather than a police officer, pausing the recording and pulling you from your seat into a big hug.
"Shhhh, flower. It didn't happen. You're all safe, you're alright, eh? I know, though, it's fucking terrifying, isn't it? Thinking what could have happened."
The car would have taken out the front of the house easily, had he brought it up the drive as you guess he likely intended. Or what if he'd offered to take you and your mum for a drive in it, or schemed somehow to get your husbands in it, all the while counting down the moment before the timer detonated? And how, how the hell did your dad of all people, get his hands on enough explosives to have made this a reality in the first place?
How, in fact, did your own father become so bitter towards you that hurting (or considerably worse) you and your loved ones ever become viable in his mind? It hits you in ceaseless, freezing waves, that the cordial disposition he initially showed you tonight was solely an act in gaining your trust in order to carry out this wretched, unthinkably cruel plan.
It goes beyond cruel. What he plotted was evil. Inherently evil.
Emerging from the hug of massive, tattooed muscles, you thank him for his kindness, eyes wide as you softly call for your husbands. They're informed of the news, all of them taking it exactly as you expected, eyes reddening in ire, all looking to Aric for an answer over what will happen in light of this.
"Well, taking this very damning evidence into consideration, we can charge him with terrorism. I know that right off the bat for the sheer amount of explosives that sent his car halfway into the valley when it blew, and took out your frontage. That comes with a nice, minimum term of fifteen years at his majesties pleasure, too, like," he explains, shaking his head as he watches over the footage. Although he attempts to conceal it behind his hand, you can just about see the sharp points of his bared fangs. Vampires, after all, do not take too kindly to the prospect of their own kind being threatened by humans. Receding them, he continues. "I'll need a copy of this."
Ves moves forward then, taking a flash drive from the drawer and slotting it into the port, copying the entire file to it. He hands it to Aric, the vampires talking a little more while you find yourself slipping from the room in a daze, the pressure in your skull throbbing like a thousand angry hornets vying for release. Staggering down the corridor, no clue as to where you're actually heading to, you feel as if you're moving through clay, your eyes swimming with tears as you sob, your legs suddenly giving way.
"Okay, sweetheart. I've got you. Come on."
Being lifted into III's arms before you hit the floor, you're transported rapidly into the quiet sanctuary of the nearby orange lounge. Taking deep breaths, you rest your cheek to his, feeling soothed for the sanctity of his loving embrace as he sits down on the sofa.
"I think I've had enough of collapsing from shock out in that fucking hall," you scoff, bewildered, eyes like saucers.
He strokes your hair, his fingertips finding your trickling tears and wiping those away, too. "I caught you this time, at least, but yeah. I get what you mean."
Your lip trembles, shaking your head, your husband pulling you close as you begin to sob. "My own father, Charlie! My own father, and he tried to bloody kill us! Ivy, he could have hurt her, or orphaned her! I could fucking kill him with my bare hands for this!"
While your emotional meltdown begins in bewildered sadness, truly grieving the now permanent loss of your father, you finish in rage and burning contempt for him. There's no coming back from a deed this heinous. Not ever.
Shaking like a leaf with sheer venom flooding every vein, III tightens his arms around you. "We were lucky, very bloody lucky that it was only the wall and the gate that took the brunt. Bricks, mortar and iron can be replaced; people or vampires not so much."
Ves, II and IV enter then, all taking turns to wrap you in their hugs and offer kisses, each of them beyond angered and shocked that your dad's visit descended into an attempt on your lives.
"Aric has gone back out to oversee, then he's returning to the station to bring your dad back up for questioning. He didn't want to distress you further by saying, but apparently he flew into a rage and headbutted a police officer while they were booking him, so had quite the lengthy arrest sheet as it was. Now with these fresh charges he will likely face, too, I do not see him walking free any time soon," Ves explains as you climb from III's lap and stand in his arms, wrapped in the surety of his embrace.
"Good!" you fume against his chest, the bitter anger still swirling. "They can lose the fucking key!"
Nobody expects your feelings to be any different, and Ves feels it in you, the tempestuous storm swirling darkly, your energy spiky, a creature not to be negotiated with. Oh, if someone put your father in front of you right now… It would not be pretty. Truly, if the laws of the land were not quite so rigid, if he could get away with it, Ves would have torn him limb from limb for it. II would have taken him apart with a hatchet. III would have made him his living medical experiment. And IV?
"I wonder if we can talk Aric into making sure something horrible happens to him in lock up," he ponders, cracking his knuckles, jaw tightening.
Ves releases you, leaving you to climb back onto III's lap, II taking your legs to drape across his own as he strokes them lovingly, the elder vampire moving to his youngest offspring's side. "I wouldn't feel comfortable putting him in such a position. Truly, while he is becoming a good friend to us and remains a close ally, he is, after all, bound to the law in which he enforces."
While it is the mark of a good police officer, in this instance you really do wish that perhaps he could be bent in the direction that would allow one of your husbands to slip into a cell with the cameras switched off, and give your scumbag father the kind of treatment he'd live to regret.
Then again, there likely wouldn't be much left of him if they did. You can only ever push a vampire's temper so far.
The night stretches out, long and uncomfortable with the events that have forever changed the course of your life, the fire successfully put out, Aric advising that the remains of the vehicle will be collected come morning light, and the area remains an active crime scene that nobody can pass either in or out of. Evidence has to be collected as well as the car itself on a low loader, bound for the police impound while the case is built against your dad.
This means that you don't even bother going to bed, II and III also remaining awake for the staff arrival, of which you have to oversee from the rear of the property after advising they take taxi's in, at your expense. Of course, the first person to arrive - earlier than usual too after you messaged her in the small hours to keep her informed - is the lady who always begins early and stays late, Mary going out the front to survey the damage from the other side of the police cordon.
"It simply beggars belief!" she cries, watching as the wreck of the car is carefully lifted onto the low loader, shaking her head in wonder. "How could he do this to his own daughter? I, I shudder to think of what could have been, if that car had been any closer to the house when it blew!"
In the hazy, 6am daylight, the damage is much clearer to take in, the wall and gates completely decimated, three trees gone as well as a huge amount of debris blown out from the side of the drive. Your dad definitely meant to do as much damage as possible, the sight making you feel as if you have something cold and spiny swirling around in your stomach.
You feel her hand rest on your shoulder, your heart pinching tight when she pulls you into a hug. "Thank the lord you're all alright." If that didn't give you a little emotional wobble, the way she embraces III upon re-entering the house almost brings you to tears.
"You're a pain in the backside who teases me to my last bloomin' nerve, but I'd have been truly heartbroken if anything had happened to you, III."
III. No mister, no sir. Awww.
You think for a second that he's going to ruin it by saying something wildly inappropriate, but instead he simply stands and hugs her back, kissing atop her head. "See? You love me really! And thanks for that, too. I know I piss you off, but it's our thing, innit? Mary the head of house with her patience of a saint, being mithered to death by her usually naked vampire friend!"
"Naked and loud!" she chuckles, patting his cheek, emerging from his arms with a sigh. "I'll get my morning rounds done and then when Bob pops in for a cuppa, we'll discuss having the wall rebuilt and the gates ordered. None of you are to bother yourself with any of it, I will arrange everything."
True to her pledge, she shoulders it all in the wake of the incident, Bob informing her that the wall has to be rebuilt with only a certain type of stone in a very specific way in keeping with originality, as you suspected, the new gates and a stone mason secured to carry out the work before you've even had your breakfast.
In a world that has spun on its axis a few too many times of late, you remain thankful for the good people you're surrounded by. Without them, life wouldn't be nearly as lovely as it is.
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