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Darkly Delicious Desires
@darklydeliciousdesires
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.
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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Hello, besties! I bring you this update from the shade in my garden, where I am still too bloody hot, the temperature a very warm 30 degrees. UK heat hits differently, I can tell you! I hope all my other Brit friends are having a great Bank Holiday so far, too, and that everyone else enjoyed their weekend :)
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
Words: 6,383
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.
“Morning.”
IV looks up, a little startled to see the sight greeting him in the kitchen, Ves standing there shirtless in his comfy, deep grey lounge trousers, feeding Ivy her bottle. “Since when have you been on hand for baby duty?”
“Since I sat and speed read every single piece of information on efficient child rearing I could find.” He then smirks. “It was only fair, since my desires kept her mother awake for most of the night.”
Yes, in the week since you and Ves have made up, there has been quite the upswing in physical affirmations, your reconnection to one another seeing you as regular guests to your respective bedrooms. With Ivy settling to sleep for longer now at three months old, too, you aren’t quite as burdened by her regular waking throughout the night, meaning you can spend your hours of darkness enjoying your husbands.
IV is attempting to get back onto vampire time, but it somewhat clashes with his desire to enjoy the daylight while he still can.
“Yeah, you and your drilling a new hole into her kept me awake for a few hours,” he complains. “Bastard.”
Ves tips his head back, laughing quietly. “Sorry.”
“You’re not really though, are you?”
“Hmm. Do you want me to be honest, or polite?” he puts to him, laughing further at his offspring’s raised middle finger. “Now, now. Enough of that.”
Coming over from where he’s turned the coffee machine on, he places a kiss to the baby’s head. “Puke on him, Ivy.”
“So, do you have plans for today?” Ves asks, placing Ivy’s empty bottle down on the side and throwing the clean towel he’s fetched over his shoulder, ready to place her there and get her wind up.
Riffling through the drawer, he locates a spoon, turning back to grab the packet of coffee pods and pop one into the machine. “Yeah, heading into Bath with Grace. I’m taking her for lunch. Well, she's taking us, since I can't drive, but you get what I mean.”
A driving licence; he really should get around to procuring one.
Just then, Mary enters the kitchen, looking relieved to find him up with the baby rather than III. She loves him, but lord, the poor woman needs a break from his endless teasing of her.
“Good morning, sirs.” She then nods in Ves’s direction. “How is she this morning?”
Before he has chance to reply, a massive burp exits her mouth, Ves grinning widely. “More comfortable now.”
“Swear down, that child has the wind of a grown man!” IV laughs, remembering a particularly loud fart she let out a few mornings ago, so loud she spooked herself.
“Aww, well you do look lovely with her, sir. Nice to see you bonding,” she comments, IV attracting her attention and pointing at the coffee machine. “A tea would be appreciated, thank you. Right, now we have Christmas looming upon us once again, Mr. Vessel. Are we doing the same as last year?”
“I’ll have to ask the boss,” he replies, Mary humming knowingly with laughter. “She’s still asleep, but I should think so. Just ask Bob to bring the trees in, and Grace and your best friend will probably see to the decorating.”
His wink at the best friend comment has her rolling her eyes. “That vampire will be the death of me!” The fondness in her voice, no matter how admonishing, shows her affection for him clearly. “Oh, and just to forewarn you, we have some protestors milling around at the gates again. Why they come in daylight when mostly, you’re all asleep, I’ll never know! It’s all down to that damned Daily Mail article!”
How her opinion has changed in the time she’s known you all, seeing with her own eyes that vampires truly are so much more than the horror stories that exist surrounding their kind. “Yes, I read it this morning. An awful piece. What happened to that woman was not because her now ex-husband was a vampire. It was because he was an abusive narcissist. His species matters not.”
Indeed, the story was a harrowing read, a woman laying bare her five-year ordeal trapped in a hellish marriage with an abusive husband. The fact that he was a vampire – a baby one at that given that he’d only just turned one hundred – mattered not. Of course, though, people will use what he is as an excuse to then light their torches against the entirety of vampirekind, their small mindedness not allowing them to see reason.
The actions of one do not speak for the millions of undead walking the earth. Try telling your average bigot that, though.
If only they could peek behind the door to see the harmony that abounds within your household, for example. Three doting vampires who not only cherish you to your bones, but also happily take on their share of caring for a tiny baby, a baby who often feels at her most settled within the embrace of a vampire.
Rather than understand it, though, they make it their business to shout loudly enough for all to hear, to stand and picket the houses they’ve discovered harbour the undead residing within. Even Aric, your local, friendly vampire police officer has found himself subject to it.
Indeed, this is how lacking in intelligence they are, to openly harass a two thousand plus year old Scythian tribesman, who marauded and conquered his way through the Middle East in his human years and now, as a vampire, has the powers to arrest them for trespass or harassment. Often both.
Mary soon potters off to begin her day, Ves taking Ivy into the main lounge for her tummy time activities, showering her with an abundance of toys she grasps and studies.
“No, let’s not eat Mr. Chameleon,” he advises, pulling the small plush away from her mouth. She’s become very curious about chewing things recently, her grasping facilitating this need to put things in her mouth. Her father’s Mjolnir pendant was explored recently, as well as a mouthful of your hair.
Looking up at him, she smiles, giggling, Ves feeling his insides bloom. “Oh, a very genuine smile for me, hm? That’s nice, now you’re getting used to who I am.” Reaching again, he dissuades her pursuit to once again taste the chameleon toy. “No, no, Ivy. I assure you that this is not edible. See look, now you have fluff all over your mouth.”
Cleaning off her little lips with his finger, she continues to squeal and giggle at him, Ves charmed by her beautiful innocence, the purity in how she finds such joy in simply exploring her surroundings and toys offered within it. Lifting herself up, she then sees who he sensed approaching, beaming and gurgling at watching you enter the lounge.
“Is that mummy? Oh, such excited shuffling,” he enthuses, Ivy kicking her legs around as you walk towards her, lowering to lie flat on your stomach next to Ves, kissing her little head.
“Hello, pretty munchkin! Hello!” You then turn your head, offering your husband a lingering kiss. “Thanks for letting me sleep in. I needed it.”
“Well, if you are going to ride me for an hour straight,” he chuckles. “How are your thighs?”
“Well bloody toned!” you laugh. “Are you okay to keep watching her while I go and make a bit of breakfast?”
“Absolutely,” he beams, picking up the small giraffe and offering it to Ivy. “We’re having a wonderful time going through all the animals and where they come from. I read that talking to them helps for their speech to eventually become well developed.”
You think it’s truly beautiful, the way he’s thrown himself into this now things between you are mended, Ves continuing to chat to her. “Ivy, this is a giraffe, native to Africa. Yes, and I shall take you there when you’re old enough to appreciate a safari. You’ll have to do that part with your mother, though, as alas uncle Ves here cannot tangle with the daylight. No, he cannot. Oh, you’re laughing again! Am I really that funny?”
The giggling and gurgling continue. “Ah ba blaph phhrrr!”
He turns to you. “I think that means yes.”
Kissing him, you chuckle, heading out and down to the kitchen, wishing good morning to all the staff you encounter on your way.
“Is that turkey bacon I smell?” you ask, finding IV standing at the air fryer.
“It is, do you want some?”
Moving to him, you wrap your arms around his waist, giving the side of his neck a few kisses. How you will never, ever tire of entering a room to find him standing within it. “Please, darl. I could murder a sandwich!”
“Ahh, you bugger. Mentioning bread and I can’t have none!” he exclaims, giving you a little whack on the bum with the spatula in his hand.
Turning, you frown, taking a loaf from the bread bin. “Who says?”
He pulls up his shirt. “This says. This definition I’m getting for not eating carbs!”
Ohhhh lord. You loved his hint of tummy, never, ever expecting him to change that, but the fact he is indeed getting himself a bit of a six pack? Mmmm. It’s hard to find a man already so attractive even more so, but his little gains in muscle definition definitely aren’t hurting.
“Like what you see, eh?” he winks, speaking into the silence your perving at him quite blatantly has left. “Just let me know when you want to study my gains up close. Ain’t about to stop you.”
“Mm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around him. “I think I will.”
Teasing a little tickle at the side of his neck with your nails, you turn back to the loaf of bread, slicing off two pieces, laughing softly about his mutters regarding you being a cock tease.
It’s about time you reconnected with him intimately, you think, the tics that made you so nervy, the lingering trauma too all subsided for having him back and getting to spend quality time with him. You’re well underway in the rebuilding of your relationship together, and as for what blighted your mind, the root cause of your fear towards him, your mum’s sage advice helped nicely.
“Remember when it happened, and we kept on trying to tell your dad how it was an isolated incident? Well, that’s because it was, babe. None of the factors that caused it exist any longer, do they? He isn’t a young, mentally broken vampire lost without his creator, is he? He never will be again, either, even when he’s turned back. That darkness, M removed it, didn’t she?”
She also went to great lengths to affirm that you had every right to feel unnerved around him, but that if you did want to successfully move forward and be in a relationship, then it was something you had to overcome. All in your own time, too.
Is a month too soon? You find yourself questioning it often. Surely, if comfort and security returns, there should be no standard frame applied to timing? Have you simply gone down too many Internet rabbit holes, reading of people describing their trauma as something that’s lingered dangerously close in the edges of their minds and the recesses of their hearts for years?
Have these people truly sought healthy recovery, though? Or much like IV himself once, considered themselves too far gone for help? Have any of them found themselves in the supremely unique circumstances that apply to your life? Was what they went through worse?
You know you could question yourself to death while searching for a perfect, textbook answer. Or you could realise that textbooks are for classrooms and not necessarily tools for life, go with what your gut tells you, and move forward with your life. Trauma, after all, affects everyone differently; attempting to treat your own using the same methods and standards that somebody else has is unrealistic. It would be like treating a wound with a dressing cut to a different size.
“Bacon!”
His chirp pulls you from your bread buttering daze, offering a slice forward for him to place the three rashers down upon. “Thank you! Expect me to eat like a horse at lunch, too. So flippin’ hungry!”
He laughs softly, placing more bacon into the air fryer basket. “Ves got me a bank card sorted again, so you’re good to put a dent in it.”
Slathering your sandwich with brown sauce, you close it, cutting it into two triangles. “I bet that was a ball ache avoided, since we didn’t need to declare you dead.”
With vampires, unless they are tax paying with an income – of which IV wasn’t - being that they are technically already classed as dead, no death has to be registered when they pass away. It means IV can continue as normal, his old documents still all usable.
“Yeah, but it’s hilarious using things like my passport with a big, red V stamped on it when I’m not one currently. The woman at LAX was so confused when we boarded our flight at 3pm, trying to work out why I wasn’t in a travel coffin.”
Oh, you bet that caused a lot of head scratching. “What did you say?”
He shrugs, scratching his short goatee. “Muttered something about being a special kind of impervious breed, grabbed my boarding pass and fucked off out of there quick, like, save her asking me anything else.”
Hmm, yep. That definitely sounds like something he’d do. If it were III, he’d likely regale her with a steady stream of difficult to follow bullshit, all in aid of his own amusement. II would have glared until she shrank behind the counter again, and Ves, well. Charm offensive one hundred percent.
After breakfast, you have a quick chat with Mary regarding the Christmas trees, confirming that as usual, you and III will decorate them and leave everything else to her. You can scarcely wait for the scent of her beautiful garlands to fill the house again, the fresh notes of pine wafting under your nose, complimenting all of the candles you buy in the same scent for the Christmas period.
Venturing back into the lounge, you spend your morning with your baby and Ves, you and Ivy having some soft play fun while her uncle sits with his nose in a book, very much enjoying his retirement by slowly working through II’s library.
“You’re going to ask me if I’m still happy to look after her while you and IV go for lunch, aren’t you?”
Vampiric perception; there’s truly nothing like it. "Are you?"
Smiling, he holds his hands out, waiting for you to duly pass Ivy over to him. "Absolutely. If I get stuck with anything, I can ask Mary for assistance."
You arch an eyebrow playfully. "You mean if she has a shitty nappy, yeah?"
"I can cope with that," he vouches, clutching Ivy to his chest. "I've read what needs to be done."
Somehow, you feel Mary is going to be called upon regardless of his confident resolve. "I'm going for a shower. I'll come and kiss you both goodbye before I leave."
"Okay, darling. Ivy and I are going to sit here and ruminate on a little Dostoevsky."
Smiling, you leave them to it. Three months old, and she's already having Notes from the Underground read aloud to her. Hypothetically, Ivy could never spend a single day at school when she grows up, but under Ves's tutelage, probably end up becoming better educated than most of her peers.
Getting yourself ready, you choose the simple outfit of a nice pair of black jeans, a grey fitted t shirt and your big, fake fur chinchilla coat to keep warm. Adding jewellery, you grab a bag from the wardrobe, taking a look around at the vast space and smiling to yourself. How on earth did you get so lucky to see so many designer labels staring back at you? However, being the humble girl you are, your collection is still littered with high street pieces, the bag you choose from Zara, for example.
You might be living the boujee life, but not so much that you don't enjoy a bargain when you see it.
"Who's this glamorous creature coming towards me, eh?"
Smiling as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you sink into IV's embrace. "Your wife."
Leaning to you, he presses a kiss to your lips. "I'm so fucking lucky. You look gorgeous."
The rigours of motherhood have left you favouring comfortable clothes, tied up hair and little makeup, so when you have an opportunity to look a little more polished, you take it gladly.
Heading out of the house, you climb into your car, driving down and clicking the small fob on your keys to open the huge, electric iron gates. A few people are still milling around, shouting their nonsense, IV winding down the window to raise his middle finger at them before you pull off down the lane.
"Absolute twats," he scoffs, shaking his head. "Have they got nothing better to do?"
Oh, the luxury of having little else pressing, leaving them with enough free time to stand outside somebody's house. "Apparently not. Arseholes."
You drive on, the familiar roads winding through the countryside, a gentle drizzle pattering against the windscreen and a persistent mist that’s lingered since the morning floating over the valley’s fields.
“Despite the morons at the gate, we’re so fucking lucky, eh?” His hand reaches over, giving your thigh a little squeeze. “I love it here. The house is like, next level beautiful, and the surroundings are so quiet.”
Appreciating that quiet, you smile at him, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Life may bring with it the occasional bout of unwelcome attention from the small minded, but your day is set to be a nice one away from the baying congregation.
Well, until you inform IV that he’s being dragged Christmas shopping. He’s likely to protest at that.
Strangely, though, after two bowls of very delicious and very warming spaghetti bolognese have been consumed at the Italian restaurant your mum and Oliver highly recommended, he's completely open to the idea of trawling the shops.
It seems you aren't the only one who hasn't finished Christmas shopping. The vampires of the house (plus him) still don't buy for each other, but he's keen to purchase for others…
"Oi, piss off!"
Tightening your arms around his waist, you lean to kiss his cheek. "You don't have to get me anything, you know."
"Yeah, I bloody do!" he exclaims, hands moving to cover yours. "The first Christmas you were with us, I was too busy being a moody twat, and then… yeah. Wasn't there for the other two, was I?"
His absence was felt, too, all of your partaking in the usual family tradition of getting drunk or high, the four of you having a little intoxicated cry while hugging one another on that first Christmas without him.
"Having you back is a big enough present." You kiss his cheek again, giving him a little squeeze. "And you did give me something, that first Christmas."
He laughs quietly, and it's all filthy. "Yeah, yeah I did." More dirty chuckles follow. "I can give you that any time, though. I want to choose something special, like, but I don't think I'll find it here."
You wander around from shop to shop, gathering a large collection of bags IV insists on carrying for you, mostly things for Ivy within. You and II said you wouldn't spoil her on account of her still being so little, but even though she won't remember it, it is her first Christmas.
You take a quick tour of the high street, noticing IV looking across the road a couple of times, at which shop specifically, you're unsure. While you're in one that sells fancy candles obtaining some gifts for Meghan as well as yourself, he leaves you for a few moments, popping back in just as you're paying.
"Um, would you mind going and having a coffee at the Starbucks just up the road for half an hour or so?"
"Yeah, I don't mind that," you reply, puzzled. "Why?"
"I've decided on part of your Christmas present. Well, kinda partly for you and partly for me." Leaning to you, he kisses your lips. "I'll meet you there in a bit."
Leaving no clues for you, he lingers around until you're inside the shop, making sure you're not looking before waiting for a break in the traffic and sprinting back across the road…
You're enjoying your second cup of caramel latte by the time he rejoins you, grinning widely. "You want another one?" he asks, nodding at your cup.
"No, I'm alright." Frowning in curiosity, you eye him carefully. "Where've you been, then? I see no bags, so you haven't made a purchase."
"I have, but it couldn't be put in a bag." Lifting up his sweater, he then peels back the clingfilm dressing covering the left side of his chest, revealing it. "D'ya like it?"
Clasping your hands over your mouth, you can't believe your eyes. There, inked into the skin in beautiful cursive font, is your name. "IV!" you sob, eyes filling with tears. "Oh my god!" His gentle laughter continues as you get up, lowering his sweater and embracing you carefully, his chest obviously very tender. "It's beautiful! I love it, I really do!"
Kissing your cheek, his affection warms you right through, the sunshine of his love beaming so bright it makes the cold winter day feel positively humid. "Good, cos' I did worry you'd call me a twat."
Oh, god no. It's one of the most touching romantic gestures he could have done, inking your name into his flesh, something that will be with him for all eternity. As you will be one day, too, when you both walk this earth as vampires.
His return to undead status will be significantly sooner than your venture into a new existence, though.
After finishing your coffee, you both head back to the car, the late November chill biting at your cheeks making you shiver, glad to climb in and get the heater going. Driving back, you take care along the narrower roads leading to your house, the tarmac sparkling with a hint of frost, the cold snap of winter seeming to be upon you early this year.
With this in mind, you find it surprising that now, with the temperature dropping, there are still committed protestors milling around your frontage. As is IV when he spots the identity of one before you do.
"Fuck!"
Slowing down on the approach to the gates, you turn to see him ducked below the view of the windows, practically cramming himself down into the foot well. "What?"
"Your dad!"
It takes your brain a second to realise why he's hidden himself, stuck between disbelief that he's turned up and indignant that he's out there chatting with the people who are subjecting you to this anguish. Of course, in your father's mind, IV is very much dead.
"Shit! Did he see you?" you hiss, clicking the gate fob as you slow further, IV taking off his belt and crouching in the foot well beneath his coat, completely camouflaged within the gloom.
"Nah, doubt it, but I gotta stay down here in case he looks in!" he hisses, muffled by thick, woven wool.
Indicating, you swing the car left, your dad breaking away from the crowd. "Grace, I need to talk to you!"
Your foot hits the throttle, powering up the driveway, the gate not shutting quick enough to prevent your dad from entering through the gap.
"Shit!" You thump your palm off the steering wheel, watching him become a dot at the end of the drive in the rear view mirror. "Okay, when we pull up, I'll park off to the side so you can slip down the path that leads around the side of the house. He won't even see you get out."
"He's got a fucking nerve, turning up unannounced like that and slipping the gates!" he fumes as you slow to reverse your car around, your dad still a way off from reaching you. "I want to smack him one, but I'll leave that to the others if he starts up."
"Ves, I'm home and my fucking father is storming up the driveway!" you then speak, knowing that he'll hear you from within the house. Indeed, as soon as IV has scarpered around the side, Ves appears at the rear of your car. Oh, his face. His jaw is set so hard, he could probably bite through steel.
"Why the fuck are you on my property, Gary?" he shouts sternly, your dad walking as quickly as he can manage. "You aren't welcome here."
"I want to see Tanya and my daughter, that's why," he explains, out of breath as he finally arrives, leaving a good few feet of distance between himself and the looming vampire. Ahh, he finally learned his lesson, then.
Folding your arms, you station yourself at your husbands side. "And the concept of calling ahead is what, completely lost on you?"
He stands tall, but in a stance that indicates he knows he's on the back foot in this situation, clasping his hands together. "I knew you probably wouldn't want to hear what I had to say, so I didn't bother. Look, I just wanted to come and talk face to face with your mum, and of course see how you are while I'm here. I take it she's still here? She's been ignoring my calls."
Ves snorts, his brow furrowing. "Coming from the man who has thus far refused to speak with her unless it's been through a solicitor, that's rather rich, Gary."
"I know, I know that, Ves," he speaks calmly, "but I'm trying here. Trying to put my family back together."
Just then, the front door opens, II and III stepping out, looking irate.
"What the fuck is that doing on our fucking property?" III growls, II eyeing him with a glare, Ivy held securely against his chest.
Your dad holds his hands up defensively. "I come in peace, III. I understand I'm not everyone's favourite person, I do." He trails off then, his eyes moving to the baby, then back to you, his smile wide. "Is that her, your little girl?"
"No, this is a stunt baby," II sneers sarcastically. "The real one is inside."
"She's lovely, look at her!" he speaks softly, approaching slowly. "May I meet her?"
"One more step and I'll pass her to her uncle and finish what I started by the reservoir," he snarls, his eyes bleeding red. "Nobody has forgotten the cruelty of your mouth in suggesting that Grace abort her to appease you."
"Fair," your dad speaks, backing off again.
"And when exactly where you going to apologise for that, hmm?" you ask, eyes narrowing at him. "Because whatever you might have planned to say, trust me, it'll be too little, too late."
He takes a deep breath, beginning to approach, Ves holding out his hand.
"Absolutely not." His words are colder and more biting than the November chill. "You won't take another step towards my wife."
You dad nods, clearing his throat. "Grace, I am sorry for what I said to you, I really am. I…"
This is as far as he manages to get with his apology speech, the guesthouse doors opening across the small quad lawn, your mum and Oliver walking out.
"Gary?" she calls, shielding her eyes from the glare of the security light her movement from the house has prompted. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"
Your dad's face starts to lose its colour as he notices Oliver approach with her, a secure arm wrapping around her waist. He points between them, his mouth dropping open. "What the hell is this, Tanya?" he demands, his demeanour changing in a nanosecond. "And who is he?"
"Oliver, my boyfriend," she speaks, coming to a stop a short way from you and Ves, folding her arms as she eyes him sharply. "What, did you think I'd wait around forever for you to come to your senses? As of last week, we're finally divorced, Gary, and I'm happier than I've been in a long time."
His face twists, an ugly visage of a man becoming churned down to his depths. "I-I came here to apologise, to talk! To get my family back together, and there you are with your new fancy man? You fucking slag!"
Oh, no he didn't. Oh, hell bloody no.
"What did you just call my mum?" you cry, storming towards him. "You got a goddamned nerve!" You hand flies out, and you make contact with a harsh slap around his face, your dad thunderous, grabbing your wrist.
"You will not bloody disrespect me by hitting me, Grace! I'm your father, I command…"
That's as far as he gets before his air is cut off by a large hand wrapping around his neck and hauling him back, the contact at your wrist dropped, Ves growling venomously.
"You command nothing of my wife." He then calls over his shoulder, releasing his grip on your dad. "III, call the police. Tell them we have a trespasser."
"Yeah, do it, III, and I'll have her arrested for assault!"
His own daughter… who simply acted in defence of her mother. Oh, how he hasn't changed from the nasty little man he became all those months before, if that's how quickly he can turn.
"You truly must be a special brand of idiotic, turning up here and antagonising not just one, but three vampires like this," Oliver drawls smoothly. "I think I see quite clearly why your ex-wife moved on as rapidly as she did, and why your daughter wants nothing to do with you."
"Yeah, dad. That still stands," you spit, rubbing your wrist, III moving behind you and wrapping you in the surety of his arms.
He points at you, backing off away from the vampires all glaring at him. "Call the police back and tell them it was a false alarm, or I mean it. I'll do you for assault. You need to learn respect, Grace, and you've had the fucking upper hand over me for too long now!"
Oh, his precious pride. They often say it comes before a fall. "This is the real reason you came, wasn't it? To cause trouble. You had no intentions of conflict resolve, did you? Fucking pathetic arsehole," you scoff, eyeing him with distaste.
He looks you up and down a few times, turning then to your mum. "Proud of her, are you? Over what a mouthy little cunt she's become."
"Oh, if I wasn't holding my daughter," II growls, "I'd really give you something to have me arrested for."
"Yes, I am, actually," your mum speaks, "very bloody proud. She's a wonderful wife and mother, and she'll be a better parent than you turned out to be a thousand times over. Now, unless it wasn't abundantly clear, we've all moved on with our lives, and you aren't included in them. Leave, or the police will turf you out. Either is good for me."
The flickering blue lights at the end of the drive signal their arrival, and you press the fob to open the gates. Two cars soon pull up, with you very glad to see one officer in particular exit the second of them.
"So, we've got a spot of bother with a trespasser, eh?" Aric speaks, approaching. "I'll take it that's you, fella?"
A finger is thrust in your direction, your dad's eyes bordering on maniacal. "I want her arrested! She assaulted me!"
Aric turns to you, looking back at him with a frown. "That doesn't sound very much like a Grace thing to do."
"Oh, know her personally, do you?"
The tall vampire nods. "Aye, I know her quite well, like." He then looks around at everyone else assembled, raising an eyebrow. "Did anybody else happen to see this alleged assault, anyone who we can take a statement from?"
A resounding shaking of heads answers him. "My daughter didn't move a muscle, Aric," your mum speaks, gesturing in the direction of your dad. "Him and his nasty mouth have been coming out with all sorts, however."
"Right, well there we have it. No assault and one man trespassing."
"I can't be arrested for it!"your dad shouts, pointing a finger at Aric, who simply snorts with laughter. "I'll have your badge number and see you in court for this, or worse! Trust me, I could do worse, find out where you live!"
Aric lifts his chin, raising a dark eyebrow. "Oh, yes you can, pal. You've turned up here and acted aggressively, and now you're, what shall we call this? Ahh yeah. Threatening a police officer." One nod and two of the others who arrived in the first car approach him, cuffs pulled out, your dad putting up a struggle before he's taken down to the gravel beneath his feet and handcuffed. "Get him out of here, lads."
The shorter, yet sufficiently stockier of the two nods. "On it, sarge."
"Oh, and get them showers of shite down at the gates cleared off and all, will ya's?"
"Yeah, will do." the taller of the officers replies.
With your dad bundled into the car, ranting and raving as he goes, you turn to Aric. "Sergeant Zarandou now, eh?"
"Aye," he grins, "got meself a little promotion! Now, I might've only just started me night, but until I get another call on the radio, I could murder a cuppa." Walking towards II, he reaches his hands out, being passed Ivy. "And having a little cuddle of the bairn before she's off to bed will do, too." Ivy chirps and gurgles, immediately making a grasp for his long, black ponytail, bringing it to her mouth. "Ahh no, pet. Let's have none of that hair eating."
Laughing softly, you fall into step at his side, everyone following you into the house.
"So, did you twat him one?" Aric asks with a hum of amusement, bouncing Ivy in his arms.
"Is it off the record?" you ask, hearing him snort.
"Of course, it is."
"He called my mum a slag, so I slapped him around the face."
At hearing this, he laughs quietly. "Hm, deserved. I can turn a blind eye to a smack. Anything bigger and it'd have been a no go."
"Ahh, so I have a limit?" you joke, Aric giving you a little nudge with his elbow.
"Just don't push it because we're friends, like."
You don't intend to, of course being much smarter than that. Nobody will ever, ever, get away with being so disgusting to your mum, though. You doubt your dad will learn that, but maybe a few hours in a cell might give him the humbling he needs before he's released. Either way, you know your future will only be brighter for severing the very last tie with him.
If that's how he wishes to behave, everyone is truly better off without him.
Aric doesn't stay for long, having an incident called through he needs to leave quickly to attend, telling you he'll pop around and let you know how things are going regarding your dad's charges. After seeing him out, you get your little one off to sleep, watching her eyes hang heavy before she's dozing peacefully, making those adorable little baby snuffles. You could listen to them forever.
Exiting her room, you're joined by IV coming down from the floor above, opening his arms. "I went straight upstairs when I got in, just in case you invited him in. Guessing you didn't, though."
"No, but we did have him arrested." He gapes slightly, and you move to your bedroom, sitting down on the sofa by the window so you can be comfortable while you explain the incident. All the way through, you witness his face change into a series of expressions that convey his feelings, laughing at the end to hear he was the one who ended up being carted off in the back of a police vehicle, rather than you.
"You're right," he speaks at the end of your explanation. "I think he was only nice to try and get your mum back onside. That kind of switch in his temperament as soon as he saw she'd moved on proves it, that like, his true colours were bubbling under the surface still."
You take a moment to mull it all over, the events of that evening and, somewhat surprisingly, you realise they haven't left you even close to reeling. Simply, you feel calm, settled, unbothered. The damage to your relationship with your father was done long ago, and truly, you made your peace with it then.
All he proved tonight was that he isn't the kind of person you have any desire to keep around. Family or not, toxicity has no place in your life.
"How's the sore chest?" you ask, pointing in the direction of his new tattoo.
He pulls up his sweater, revealing it. "No longer sore. III pricked his finger and gave me some instant healing," he speaks, smiling when you lean to kiss it. "Hm, while you're there."
His words, although only delivered in tease, have you reaching for his sweater, pulling it over his head before you move back to pressing kisses over his chest. "Mm, yeah. While I'm here." You kiss him again, heat sparking, IV wrapping his arms around his waist. Pulling back, you gaze at him, a mixture of love and flaming desire twinkling in your eyes as you jerk your head in the direction of the bed. "I'd much rather be over there, though."
Lifting you in his arms, he carries you over to the bed, your kisses flickering with gentle heat. It's about time, you think, to reconnect with him fully. Also, it's very nearly Christmas. Why not give one another your standard gift a little early?
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