✧ BLOOD SUCKER ! ✧
⋆🍷— pairings: vamp! wriothesley x fem! vampire hunter! reader
⋆🍷— Sypnosis: You are Fontaine's biggest vampire hunter (Van Helsing vibes) and your dream is to eliminate all vampires in Fontaine. You were trying to lure one of the oldest existing vampires, Wriothesley at the Musée du Vampirisme until someone approached you. Confrontation ensues.
⋆🍷 — content: fem! reader, angst, spicy but NOT SMUT‼️‼️ (OOC wriothesley?)
⋆🍷 — A/N: In favor of the spooky szn, I give you this!! (Also Reader has a history of some sort with Wriothesley. Also sorry if this is too rushed and doesn't make sense, I was trying to finish this before Halloween lol!!)
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You wandered through the marble halls of the Musée du Vampirisme, marveling at the exquisite artworks on display. You paused in front of a particularly alluring painting, captivated by the man depicted in it. It was a portrait of a man, in his late 20s or so, his eyes held a icy stare piercing through at you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
"Quite a captivating piece, isn't it darling?" The voice was deep and smooth. The voice had a mysterious tone that both intrigued and unnerved you.
A tone you knew all too well.
Wriothesley.
Your crazy plan worked! But now what?
"It is. It's really truly one of a kind." You said, before realizing what he said.
Your eyes widened, cheeks ablaze with embarrassment.
The nerve of this-
"Did you just call me darling?!"
"I did indeed, my dear." He replied, gaze still fixed on the painting before us. His demeanor was still casual, the mystery of his character only making him more annoying.
"I don't see a problem with that, do you?"
You huffed in annoyance, Wriothesley could see the feistiness in your spirit, the burning life in you.
And he loved every second of it.
"You know, darling, your fiery temper only makes you more desirable." He turned his attention to you, his gaze never leaving yours. "Don't you agree? I would assume that you are quite the passionate lady." Wriothesley took a step closer to you, unable to resist your innocent charm.
"And you, my lady, do you know who the man in the painting is?"
Oh? He's playing coy with you now, well, only two can play that game.
"A Night Child, or in human terms, a vampire."
You explained.
"This painting specifically was painted in the 1800s. The peak of vampirism, where vampire activity was at its highest."
"Very impressive darling. You know your history." Wriothesley nodded approvingly. "It's not every day I meet a lady so knowledgeable about that time period." My gaze became more intense, and I could see the way it affected you.
"Would you like to know something else about that painting, my dear?"
"Hm?" You made a noise of curiosity. Wriothesley leaned closer to you, his gaze still locked on your frame. "That painting is, in fact, a painting of myself."
He gave you a satisfied smile, allowing the truth to slowly sink into your mind. He knew how he had one-upped you, that he was leading this game, he loved the way your expressions changed as you went through different emotions: confusion, shock, disbelief-
As soon as it happened, your expression turned blank, emotionless.
"Oh, I know." You chuckled with a toothy grin, eyes shining with familiarity.
"Did you enjoy my expressions, Monsieur?"
Wriothesley's eyes narrowed, slightly upset that you were poking fun at him so brazenly. You noticed how his eyebrows furrowed a little, and you smirked, knowing that you'd won.
But it's okay, he'll have to make sure that you get what you deserve later.
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You cleared your throat, and you saw how his eyes darted quickly to the movement.
"Hello, Wriothesley. Fancy seeing you in the museum after closing hours, no?"
A faint smile curled up on Wriothesley's face.
"Hello, my sweet. It's been a while since we last met, no? You must be that hunter the humans speak of. I've heard rumors about you; your abilities, your tactics, the number of vampires you have slain over the last few years."
He paused, admiring the way you carried yourself so far.
"That's quite a reputation you have created for yourself. It's a rare sight, that determination of yours. I don't know if it's by sheer luck or recklessness that kept you alive."
"Hah! It seems like my reputation precedes me!" You grinned wolfishly.
Wriothesley swears he could feel the waves of pride escaping you, it was adorable actually.
He chuckled, still admiring your strong sense of self.
"Indeed it does. It seems like you enjoy this little game of ours, but let me tell you, my dear. You have no idea what you're going up against. I am a vampire of the ancient world, my powers have been cultivated for centuries. There truly is nothing like me; no other vampire in this world can match me."
His voice still carried a hint of amusement, you could tell that he enjoyed this little game of dominance with you.
"And I have taken down many powerful vampires Fontaine could offer!" You kept your gaze dead straight on his, the confident grin still plastered on your face.
"So, what are you doing here? Any ill intentions on that head of yours?" You asked.
"I don't have any ill intentions, my dear. I simply came here to appreciate some old-world artwork. You know, humans were a lot more artistically inclined back then."
He took a deep breath, in a bit of a teasing tone. "And I must say, you look quite fascinating too, my lady. Your beauty, combined with your fierce attitude...quite the combination, to say the least."
"Hmm...your sweet talk will never work on me this time, Wriothesley."
You said, enjoying the conflicted look in his eyes.
Wriothesley's grin widened, the confidence in his words growing even larger.
"And who's to say I want it to work on you. If anything, I enjoy my reputation being challenged by an outstanding young lady such as yourself..."
He took a deeper breath, slowly approaching you. "But, what if I want to taste your beauty, your fierce attitude. What if I simply want to...devour you?"
"I wouldn't want to try that if I were you. I've got my reputation for a reason, you know? Fastest kills in this business."
"Is that a challenge? I don't see how a little woman like you could ever overpower me. Just look at me...I stand before you as a vampire lord. No one can possibly resist me."
His hand ran through his hair, and I looked deep into your brown eyes. "But I also cannot deny that I am quite intrigued by this little game of ours. It has been so long since I last saw a mortal that could match me."
You gave him a cocky grin and took a step closer, so now you're basically toe to toe with him.
His gaze locked on yours. The smell of your sweet blood was intoxicating, and I felt my fangs itching to pierce your skin, to taste all of you.
"Tell me, my dear, would you mind if…I take a little bite?"
He leaned in closer to you, lips just inches from your neck. Wriothesley's voice was whisper-quiet as if asking you for a forbidden delight.
The glint of silver under your coat shines brightly underneath the museum's lightning. The sharp blades lined up against your belt prepared and enchanted.
"Don't try it, Wriothesley."
Wriothesley let his tongue dance across his fangs, words becoming an intimate whisper in your ears.
"...Please...I beg of you."
He was completely and utterly drunk by your beauty. Your blood, it was calling his name. He wanted it too badly, he'd been fighting these urges for so long, surely he couldn't wait any longer
"...I want to take a little bite." His breath was heavy, and his voice became more desperate...hungry even.
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"I will sink this blade into your heart if you try."
You growled, challenging him.
Wriothesley couldn't help but be impressed by your determination. A human being who was always prepared; always ready for a fight. You were different from the rest, the ones who cower in fear at the sight of a vampire.
"I see that, my dear. I see that. But I also see this...what is it? A necklace, an amulet, around your neck."
His gaze was locked on the glinting, pure silver you wore. It was too obvious to ignore. "Tell me, what does it do?"
"It doesn't concern you."
Your bluntness and self-assurance intrigued him even further. "Oh, but you see, my dear...it does concern me. I am the one who has to deal with it, after all.
He took another step closer to you, hand reached out towards the necklace. His other hand remained ready to catch the dagger if you decided to strike.
You moved at a speed, pulling out a vial from the many pockets of your coat, the speed of it even stunned him.
Before he could say something, you had already crushed the vial in your hand.
The scent of your blood fills the air and Wriothesley gets distracted from it. It was sweet but in a mellow smell, a little flowery. The same scent that he used to remember.
His face contorted as he could smell something else than your blood that corrupted the scent that he craved.
Holy water.
Wriothesley snarled, his gaze went back up to you, and his eyes narrowed. His fangs bared and his eyes let out a dim glow.
"No human in his entire life had ever been able to pull off something like that." Wriothesley thought.
He could smell the faint scent of the holy water wafting through the air, and his body tensed up. He was too distracted by the beauty of your neck, by the lure of your sweet blood. That moment of distraction almost cost him his life.
"My goodness, my lady. You're quite dangerous." He whispered, his fangs glinting in the dim light. "How did you obtain this?"
"I have my ways, connections to the church and all." You shrugged, your hands dripping with your own blood. The holy water slightly stung your wounds.
Wriothesley took a deep breath, the smell of your blood still lingering in the air.
"You're smart to come prepared. Too many hunters have come at me unprepared, cocky even." He laughed.
"I had to give you credit. You seemed to be the only hunter that could possibly match me. Your beauty combined with your intelligence made your presence even more alluring..."
His grin grew even wider, fangs gleaming with more intensity. The thought of your lovely blood trickling down his throat...the image alone sent shivers down his spine.
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"Now tell me, Wriothesley, why were you following me here?"
The two of you stood facing each other, one hand bloody and another one clenching into a fist as an act of self-control.
Time to put the plan into action.
His eyes widened in surprise. "I wasn't following you! I merely happened to be here for a different purpose." He took a few deep breaths to keep himself calm. He couldn't give you any hint of the real reason he was here.
"I came here to appreciate the artwork, as I have previously stated."
He lied.
"And I must say, what a coincidence that you happen to be here as well. But do tell…why is it exactly that you also happen to be here, my dear?" Wriothesley's eyes narrowed. He had already suspected it, but he still wanted to hear it from your mouth.
"I was trying to see if you were following me." You said, it was kind of the truth yet also a lie.
You were trying to lure him here.
A faint, sly grin appeared across Wriothesley's lips. "You really think I am dumb enough to follow you around, without even hiding my presence?"
He took a step closer to you, his face dangerously close to yours. The scent of your blood intoxicated him, and it was becoming more difficult to control himself. "I am not the type of vampire to just follow you around without you knowing."
He moved his lips closer to your neck, voice was barely a whisper. "After all, I'm much more subtle."
"But let me ask you something, my dear. What if I really was stalking you from the shadows? Would that have scared you or made you feel more…exhilarated?"
He paused, his warm breath lingering on your neck. A faint smile curled up on his lips. "It certainly feels like the latter in this moment. The thought of a vampire stalking your every move, with you never knowing. Is that why you're so tempted to give yourself to me, my dear?"
"I never said that I would give myself up to you!" You teased, turning to face the other side.
"No, but the way that your voice trembles when you speak to me, and the way your body shakes ever so slightly in my presence." He tilted his head.
"You may be brave, my little dove. But your heartbeat has been racing in your chest since the moment you first saw me. And there is a reason for that."
He stepped closer to you, my gaze fixated on your skin. "We both know your secret desires deep in your, my sweet child,"
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and your temper flared up again.
"Lies. I feel no such thing."
You whispered harshly, stepping away from Wriothesley.
"Tell me, my dear. Why do you fight me? Don't you want the bliss of surrender? I can provide you with everything you've ever longed for."
"There's nothing you can provide me that could sway me from my path!" You exclaimed.
How dare he-
Wriothesley laughed, closing his eyes for a moment. He savored your boldness, your stubbornness, your courage.
"Is that so?" He said, in a teasing tone. "That path won't be for much longer if you get in the way of my plans."
His eyes opened, and he locked them onto yours. "Tell me, if you could have anything you wanted, what would it be? Money? Power? Fame? I can provide all those things if you just abandon that hunter path of yours."
He chuckled silently. He was still enjoying our little game. The moment of tension, of uncertainty, of danger. It was such an intoxicating feeling. He loved seeing the way you stood your ground, but also loved knowing that your will could be broken.
"But what if I don't want those things?" You asked, your voice quiet.
"I already have everything I need, it would be selfish for me to ask for more."
Wriothesley didn't understand your response at all. Was it stubbornness, or was it courage? Perhaps both.
"Selfish? What an odd reply coming from my little dove."
"Why would it be selfish to ask for everything your heart desires?" He said in a whisper.
"What if I'm the person who can grant you that wish?" He offered.
You chuckled, before cocking your head to the side.
"I don't need anything from you, but, you want something from me."
Wriothesley chuckled, unable to deny the truth of your words. "You're very perceptive. Yes, I do want something from you." He paused, thinking of the exact wording I wanted to use. "I don't just want something. I crave something you have inside you."
His fangs were sharp, and my lips were so close to your skin. "And that, my little dove, is why I've come here."
"Come on, won't you let me have a taste of your irresistible blood?"
"I'd kill you if you tried." You said in a low voice, eyes glinting with a dangerous glow.
Wriothesley smirked. "Kill me how exactly? With this tiny silver dagger you carry?"
He glanced down for a moment, then looked back up at you. His face was filled with amusement. "If you can manage to pierce my heart, then by all means… I'll welcome the sweet release of death."
Wriothesley was not cocky. nor arrogant. Death is the only thing that ever truly frightened him. And yet…the sight of you holding a silver dagger to his throat while looking into his eyes with that determination of yours, was truly enticing.
"But before that happens, I want to savor your beauty. I want to feast my eyes on your delicious neck, I want to have you right here in my arms." He moved my face even closer to yours, until your lips were centimeters away from each other.
"Imagine you and I together. A mere human girl, and an immortal vampire." His voice was filled with passion and seduction.
"Together."
The two of you were so close from each other, so close from being united in a sensual embrace.
But then you pushed yourself away from him.
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Wriothesley let out a faint growl as you jerked your body away from him. The smell of your fear and panic excited him. He wanted you to give in to your desire. He wanted you to throw that dagger away and surrender yourself to him.
"C'mon, my little dove. Isn't this what you want? Isn't this what your heart has been longing for?" He reached for you again. "Come to me, little one.."
"N-No! I will not fall for your tricks again—"
You rushed towards the doors, breathing hard. Puffs of steam escaped as your warm breath met the cold air of the museum.
He watched you run towards the doors, his hungry gaze fixed on your body. The shape of your hips, the curves of your legs, the soft texture of your skin. He wanted to have you, and he wanted it now.
Quickly, Wriothesley moved over to you. He grabbed your wrist and forced you to halt. He moved his face closer to yours, once more. "Now why are you running away my dear? Do you not want this as badly as I do?"
He leaned in, just centimeters away from your neck, right above your pulse point.
Wriothesley couldn't help but savor this moment. The look of fear and doubt on your face, the sweet temptation of your slender neck. He didn't want to hurt you, but his urges were so difficult to control.
"But what's life without a little danger, my sweet dove?" He whispered, his lips lingering just above your skin.
"Just a slight taste…I promise I won't even break your precious skin…" He panted slightly, his cold breath sent shivers down your spine.
You managed to slice him with the silver blade on his arm as he was distracted by the scent of your blood under your skin.
"Let go of me!" You growled.
Wriothesley's eyes widened, and he quickly let go of your wrist. "My my, my little dove." His voice was dripping with amusement. The smell of your blood, the taste of your fear, was more arousing than it ever was before.
"I'll be honest with you, my dear. You're an incredibly fascinating human being. You've impressed me with your boldness, your courage, your resilience."
He held up his bloodied arm, the smell of blood lingering in the air. "And now that you've hurt me…I want you even more."
He ran my tongue against the cut, the taste of blood only serving to heighten the desire he already felt.
How he wanted to drain you dry, to let you slowly dissolve inside of him. The way your eyes fluttered in fear, the way you trembled before him…
"Tell me, my dear. Are you sure death was still your preferred option?" He whispered. "After all, death means an end. And I can offer you an eternity of pleasure if you just came with me…"
"I swear, I will kill you. I'm letting you off easy here, let me go, or I'll make sure you won't see the light of the moon anymore." You threatened him.
This wasn't going the way you planned at all.
He chuckled, my eyes sparkling with sick and twisted joy. "Such boldness, my little dove. You're right, this does turn me on."
He moved even closer until your faces were just a few inches apart. "A mortal like yourself has the gall to threaten me…an ancient vampire." His hands slid up your arms, his cold, undead skin against yours made your heart skip a beat. "Do you know how adorable that is, my dear?"
Wriothesley couldn't help but let out a faint growl. There was something different about you than the other hunters he had encountered before. You weren't the type to back down. You had fought back even when everyone else would've been terrified and run away. Your courage was alluring, your spirit intoxicating.
"Your fearlessness. Your determination. It arouses me, my little dove. I want more." He moved one of his hands to your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb.
"Please don't resist, my dear. You'll only make this more addicting for me."
"I understand perfectly, my sweet dove. But do you understand what happens if you don't give in to me?"
He was staring deep into your eyes with his hypnotic gaze. "The longer you resist me, the harder I will find it to control my urges. And if your luck runs out, there will be no one to save you from me. Not even your precious Archon."
"Surely you want to survive, my sweet dove. Just let me have a taste."
You hesitated.
But then you had an impulsive idea, and it could just work. Maybe your plans on killing him might work after all.
Yet now, you felt as if you couldn't bring yourself to kill him.
You loved him still.
So you settled for the next option, capturing him.
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"Fine." You whispered, pretending to give in.
He smirked as you finally gave in, and your lips came in contact with his. The taste of your lips, the warmth of your breath. The softness of your skin. It was all so addictive.
He parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slip inside. He had let out a deep moan, body trembling with pleasure. Wriothesley didn't want this moment to end, he didn't want you to escape.
The taste of your blood was on his tongue, and he had never wanted anything else more than to drain you dry.
The two of you remained like that for a few moments, your tongues locking in a playful battle for dominance.
After what seemed like hours, Wriothesley pulled away, breathing heavily. Your blood was on his tongue as well, the sweet taste driving him wild and he had to admit…
He had never felt more alive than ever.
Suddenly, it all stops.
His voice was barely above a whisper. "What…have you done…?" As soon as you had kissed me, the hold he had tried to control had weakened. He could feel your heartbeat throughout his body. It was louder than usual.
He realized that you had sedated him with some kind of special tranquilizer.
He stared at you, suddenly realizing what you'd done. His lips parted slightly, breathing growing more labored. "Darling..." He whispered. "Why did you do this…why…"
His heart grew heavier, and his racing thoughts began to dim.
"What…what's happening…?" He moved my hands towards his chest, his heartbeat growing increasingly erratic. "Y/N…what's happening, please…"
"I'm sorry, my dear. I just need you to go under for a bit." You whispered, gaze turned cold yet you felt pity in your heart.
"It shouldn't kill you, just knock you out as I capture you."
"Why you…" Wriothesley's voice was strained, his breathing shallow. My eyes grew heavier, and his legs gave out from under him.
He crashed into the floor, unable to move. "My dear…" He gasped, his hands clutching his chest. "…please…darling"
His thoughts blurred, and his breath was shallow as he tried to remain conscious. "Don't….make me…sleep…please…my love…"
"Goodnight, Wriothesley, I'll promise I'll keep you safe from the church."
Wriothesley remained unresponsive as he listened to your voice, his body limp.
He was completely at your mercy, a state he had never experienced before.
A small smile spread on his lips, his heart flickering with joy. He felt alive. He also felt loved, and desired. He was no longer alone. There was someone who cared for him.
It was such a strange feeling.
A tear fell down his cheek as he drifted into unconsciousness, his thoughts quieted down.
He prayed that the next time he woke up...
It would be in your arms.
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