wlw vampires please. or just more feminine vampires. don't get me wrong, I love a male vampire as much as the next person. but we need wayyyyyyy more wlw vampires
can you tell im bisexual
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I want a female vampire that dotes on me. Dominate, but there's softness to it. You wouldn't have to turn on your brain, just being in her presence alone is all you need. When she feeds she'll stroke your head, praising you for oh so well behaved, aren't we?
She likes the way your blood stains her lips, calls it the perfect color.
She is not only the night, but the moon as she radiates her beauty effortlessly. A queen of immortality, smitten with you.
where's my country vampire. A southwestern cowboy known for doing his work at night. He'll run alongside coyotes, hunting the same types of prey.
No one really questions how he gets all the animals to butcher and sell.
When the sun sets, glowing against the red dirt, he's suddenly there. Riding his black stallion, like death coming to deliver.
Sometimes you can find him in the back of the nearest dive bar. He'll still wear tinted glasses, even at night. He's drinking hard whiskey, observing the town come in and out.
.˳·˖✶𓆩 𓆪✶˖·˳.
A cowboy vampire that's suddenly surprised to see you standing on his ranch, just as the orange glow of the sun dims. You're his closest neighbor, a good few miles out. His new neighbor.
You wave, dismounting your horse. He meets you halfway, a carefree smile on his face like he's always practiced. Practiced to be human.
"Hey! I was just riding and saw you were out 'n about. We're the closest neighbors, despite the few miles, but I wanted to introduce myself in case you need anything." You were from around the region, southern hospitality never really leaves you.
"It's a pleasure, doll."
Weren't you just darling? So loose and carefree, like the rising sun itself. It makes himself appear less suspicious to get along with his fellow neighbor. But he couldn't resist glancing at your neck, then to your hands where they seemed too soft for this lifestyle.
He knew by your social nature this would not be the last time he'll see you.
It's alright, now, it's been a while since he's had some fun.
i absolutely loved your cowboy vampire story, please continue !!
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・・・cowboy!vampire helps patch you up. it's a good thing he found you first, because he sure as hell knows how to fix a wound. also, maybe, he won't let any other man out here lay their tainted hands on you. ・・・
tags: blood mention, small injury, needle mention, praise, alcohol, no nsfw, did not proofread sorry, biting
words: 1.7k
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You inherited your grandfather's farmhouse. Miles from cities, only your fellow neighbors and townsfolk to interact with. You had no problem with that, considering you enjoyed your peace and quiet. Only the noises of the country seemed to soothe your soul. Like some part of you always belonged here.
You knew how to garden, how to herd your goats/chickens, and upkeep the farmhouse.
It was simple living, through and through. Your body gains endurance from all your hard work, but that never meant you were invincible. Accidents happen, unfortunately.
The thick heat of the sun begins to die down as it rests on the horizon. You could never get tired of the orange and purple hues as day time shifts into night. Coyotes howl in the distance, their calls like a melody to your ears.
You've always enjoyed the nocturnal time. It was calm, something you strive for. You and your chestnut stallion were on the outskirts of your property, taking a moment to enjoy the scenery.
As you begin to guide your stallion in the direction of home, an abnormal sized snake slithers right by the horse. The horse sees it before you do and reacts before you have any control. The horse buckles up and whines, lifting both of you up in the air.
You aren't able to grab on fast enough as you fall onto the hard ground. Your breath is knocked out of you as you fall against the rough terrain, a sharp slab of rock slashing the side of your leg.
You hiss, cursing under your breath, and feel the wound. It cut through your pants, blood already starting to drip out.
The snake disappears; your horse won this round. But there were more matters at stake. You grunt in pain as you sit up, putting pressure against the wound. There wasn't enough blood coming out to signal immediate danger, but you might need stitches.
Fuck. Not your strong suit.
You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to stand up.
Okay. 1... 2... 3--
"Hey! You alright?" A man calls out. You whip your head, his voice close. You see your closest neighbor on his black stallion, not too far. You wave him over as you try and stand. He comes immediately, shifting off his horse to crouch down to you.
He seems a bit scruffier than you remember, but still wearing those tinted glasses. He was...odd. Never ran into him at town and kept to himself. But kind, and you figured everyone had their own story.
The air smells like copper and you can't distinguish whether it's from him or your wound. He eyes it immediately, gingerly inspecting it. There's blood on your hand, but you smear it against your clothes. It could be worse.
"Can you stand, hun?" He asked, already trying to get you on your feet. He helps you on your horse before he gets back up on his. "I'll get ya patched up. 'S not easy sewing on yourself." He whistles short and begins to head to your house with you next to him. The pain makes you wince, but it's bearable.
He helps you inside the house, knowing if you put pressure on your leg you could bleed more. He sits you down on a wooden chair, digging out a flask hidden in his leather vest.
"This'll help with the pain," he pointed out. He finds your first aid box and fishes out the medical thread and needle.
"Oh I don't...," you spoke hesitantly. He flashes a smile, like it was comical. He screws the cap loose and slowly brings it up to your lips. His movements wait for you to accept, but he moves with such confidence. It's not even a second thought.
"Trust me, doll. You'll need it."
Your lips part as your hand guides the flask up. The man takes a step back, a second of satisfaction on his face before he is stoic once again. The alcohol burns through you once it reaches your stomach. It's...disgusting, actually. But the warmth pools throughout you after a few more sips. Your body eases up on the tension and you finally feel like you could breathe.
The man cuts off a clear section of your pants where the wound was. The bleeding stopped, thankfully, but it still had to receive a few simple stitches. He crouches low, his head parallel to your waist. His rough hand is placed against your knee to keep it steady, his touch gentle yet sturdy. You feel his thumb move against the skin, sending a cold shiver down your spine.
"Jus' a few stitches, here now. You'll have to be good and sit still. M’Kay?” He looks up at you, such a rare sight to see your neighbor below you. He was always a full foot taller. You avert your eyes and nod, finding his eye contact in tense.
The needle pokes through and it HURTS! You hiss, grabbing his flask with no hesitation. You would much rather consume this liquid fire than experience this pain. You look for anything so your eyes don’t land on his handiwork.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice husky and low. You flush at the praise, although that might’ve been due to the alcohol. The pain started to numb, but there was no denying the way his cold fingertips lingered against tingling skin.
It takes you a few minutes to realize he's already done. You move your head, the weight of it feeling like a water balloon. Just a few simple stitches, right there. He was good with his hands.
You shift to stand, quickly finding yourself dizzy. Your neighbor turns around and places both hands on your shoulders. His pressure gestures you to sit back down.
"Whoa there, easy, easy." His voice is calm, persuading your submission. "Dizzy, darlin'?" He leans in close, observing the way your eyes moved around. You nod, trying to concentrate on the words in your mouth.
He flashes his smile again, only for a second. "That's quite alright. We'll have ya lay down." His words soothe you like warm honey. Like the warmth of the alcohol in your system.
"Don't worry," he speaks again, his voice low and close to your ear. You scrunch your brows in late confusion. "You won't remember this. I'll take good care of ya, doll. Consider this payment." His large hand snakes up your throat and resting on your jaw. He turns your head to expose your neck.
Before you could register what was happening, your neighbor bites down onto your soft flesh. It's sharp--sharper than human teeth. His face is instantly buried in your neck, up close and personal. This isn't the neighbor you know. This isn't human.
The pain is worse than your stitched injury. It's hot, somehow icy, and feels like thorns spreading all throughout your body. You see your vision go white, then black, as a creeping darkness spreads throughout your body.
Like he was putting something back.
Slowly, your muscles relax. Your pain numbs as your vision starts to swim. You see your neighbor remove himself off of you, but it still feels like he's clamped down. The last thing you see before you lose consciousness is your neighbor placing his black cowboy hat back on, looking down at you with predator eyes.
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Hours slip by as you sleep throughout the entire night. You peel your heavy eyelids back, your head carrying a dull ache. It dawns on you that the last thing you remember is falling asleep in your kitchen chair. But here you were, comfortably in your own bed.
You lift off the covers and see your small injury cleaned and bandage.
Did you pass out in the middle of it? You remember drinking, but surely it wasn't from the pain. You frown, ashamed you don't remember the rest of the night. There's a reason why you didn't drink.
You were quite lucky your distant neighbor happened to be around when you fell. You would've done it all without him, but it sure as hell would have sucked.
Your mind flashes you the memory of his voice close to your ear. The way his eyes stared through you. You shiver and stand up from your bed, easing on over to your bedroom mirror. You looked rough for sure, but nothing else was out of place.
If he carried you to your bed, you'd have to graciously thank him for that.
Your muscles are painfully sore as you walk into the kitchen, where you just were last night. His metal flask gleams in the morning light.
You pick it up and realize it's empty. You drank the whole thing? It's no wonder you don't remember anything.
Your neighbor will be back for his personal flask. You don't know it, but he left it there intentionally in order to come back. When the sun will set, he will be coming up to the edge of your property on his black stallion. His dark leather hat and tinted glasses hides his face pretty well, but you don't question who it could be.
He'll take his flask back and ask about your current state of well being. Reassuring himself the bite on your neck fully healed. Ask the last thing you remember. A satisfied smirk will sneak on his face as you apologize for getting 'too drunk'.
He'll pat your head once, accepting your apology.
"Don't worry 'bout it, doll," he'll say, his voice rough like you remember. "I drink quality stuff. Happy to share anytime." He looks down at you and you can't decipher if he's being serious or not.
You exchange pleasantries and send him off with a fresh pie to show your gratitude. You won't know he'll never eat it, but he finds it awfully endearing.
Your neighbor knows how to play this game, and slowly. You're just a cute, darling thing.
He'll take care of you, protect you from the monstrous hands of human men. He knows a bite hurts, but he promises to make you feel better than any pain can drown out.
He'll control himself for now. Have you warm up to him, let your guards down. Last night proved to be easy; it won't take long now.
・・・He cradles your face again and leans into your neck. With the way he's breathing, he must be losing his battle for self control・・・
this meant to be way shorter and i just kept going with it. enjoy
ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
⋆tags: biting, blood mention, kissing, stalking habits, soft yandere, vampire cowboy i love u, didn't proofread srry
⋆words: 1.2k
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Vampire cowboy that can’t resist watching you from the cornfields at night.
He blends in all too easily. Waiting to catch you pass by an open window.
Your form spotted by the glow of your bedroom lamp. He doesn’t blink as he observes you slowly stretch muscles that are put to good use on the field.
You just introduced yourself to him a month ago, being his closest neighbor a couple miles away, but he's been in this very spot for almost every nightfall.
Vampire cowboy that knows this feeling well. A sudden hungry obsession, not just for your human blood, but your being. He never stays in one location for too long; the townsfolk begin to wonder how he never changes. People question-- they get curious. Curious is bad, unless it's you.
He'll figure out a way to warm himself in your life. Once he's determined, nothing will prevent him from carving his path. But he knows to be slow with it. time has always been his friend.
Meanwhile, you can't help but wonder about your neighbor. You glance every time you pass his ranch. Lots of land, sure, but it's oddly empty aside from two black horses. He seems to be a night owl too, given from his lamplight glowing in the windows.
You unexpectedly run into him as the evening lowers itself into night. Frogs and crickets echo throughout the trail you're on, giving you the cue to retreat back home, when you hear footsteps. You tense, only to come face to face with your neighbor. He did not seem like the type to conversation, based on your initial meeting, but he spoke first.
"Good evenin'," he greeted, his gloved hands touching the brim of his black cowboy hat. He's got his rifle strapped to his back, you realized.
You smile at yourself, feeling foolish you were caught by surprise. His long dark hair lays close to his face, but you could still see his matured features. He works hard, for whatever he must do.
"Good evenin'," you nod back. He notices you spot the rifle strapped behind his back.
"Goin' hunting," he commented. He truly was, but he didn't need a gun for that. He knew you were on the trail in the woods and timed himself perfect for this very moment. Seeing you while there was some glow to the end of the day was intoxicating for him. He knew he surprised you, and your heart still beats heavy with anticipation.
"You get back safe, ya?" He said, his tone neither passive nor dominant. He begins to take a few steps forward, already passing through the conversation. You tell him the same and he almost chuckles at that. there's real irony there.
You both part ways in the opposite direction. But he watches you walk, your back turned to him. He's already starving for the blood of the stag he plans to capture tonight; seeing you so close almost made him lose control.
It's too early, he tells himself. He'll snake through your ribs and cushion your heart. Then you'll understand: submit to him, free yourself from your mortal life.
The sun is now blurred with night, casting a deep, rich blue that shadowed over everything. He could get you now, it would be so easy. You already look flustered when you see him.
--
He can see it perfectly in his mind:
Imagine how you already taste like. There's a warm, humid feeling in the night air. He's hiding in the dark, like an owl flying with pure silence to capture it's prey. You're sitting alone, watching a raging bonfire. He'll enclose you in an embrace, in hopes it doesn't startle you too bad. It does, but realizing its him sparks something differently inside you. Very, very deep.
He can slightly smell the salty sweat on your skin. Rose oil on your hands and a sip of whiskey on your mouth. That alone drives him to an intoxicating state. That fire will kill him, but it's the last thing on his mind.
He already leans heavy into your neck, taking a deep inhale against your soft flesh. He's tall and damn well muscular, with his hands against your body you weren't going anywhere. You longed for this. Catching his eyes from time to time. Randomly seeing him by himself, mysterious as ever. The country nighttime was not the safest, but when you imagined him out there it somehow gave you ease.
"My darlin'," he hushes, his voice deeper. He licks with patience against your neck and your immediate shiver pleases him. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly. A hand snakes up your ribs and you catch your breath. With feather light touch, it caresses the other side of your cheek with a shocking tenderness. There's a chill in the air that beckons you further from the fire. Without realizing what you were doing, you nodded.
"Yes," you breathed. he turns you with him, his back now facing the fire. He gently sits you against the untamed grass, his figure illuminated against the night sky above him. It was then, right there, you realized he wasn't normal.
He crouches down on all four limbs, stalking closer to you with precise movement. He cradles your face again and leans into your neck. with the way he's breathing, he must be losing his battle for self control.
"Be a good girl, now," he murmured, his grip on you only tighter. "I promise darlin', you'll be well taken care of."
He opens his mouth, his teeth exposed for only a second before he bites down. The pain is a slap to the face, every part of your body on sudden high alert. Your nerves tingle with sensation, in the next few seconds, the bite begins to feel icy as it sends a shiver down your spine.
His gloved hand covers your mouth, inhaling the scent of his leather and smoke. Another minute passes by and the pain fades to a dull throb. He laps at the blood, swallowing everything.
You're high on this pleasurable pain and the feeling of the pure cold earth below you. You clench his shoulders hard enough to hurt a human, but for him it's the only kind of response he wants. He removes himself, his lips smeared with the dark blood; it looks black in this night.
He kisses you deeply, roughly, his tongue dominating your mouth within seconds. He wants you to know how good you taste. He wants to give you the greatest pleasure he can give.
And now that he's marked you, that's final.
--
The night has fully set, you are already safe inside, and vampire cowboy runs with the coyotes deep in the forest.
The vision loops on his mind, second by second. He'll perfect it, just for you.
there's something so wildly sexy about consumption, in a way. vampires that have to rely on your intoxicating blood; demons that feed off of your energy.
it's one of those things where you're mated for life. they will never leave your side, never let anything stand in the way between you two.
to bite your flesh, to mark you, to have claim over you.
unfortunately in love with the idea of being a vampire's pet. obviously much more normalized, much more protection for the humans. there's a well thought out system just like what we have for our dearest pets today.
except, human pets would provide blood in exchange for shelter, food, and endearment. i would think this would be in a time where vampires are openly at the "top of the food chain". they wouldn't be cruel, at least, not most of them. but a pet is a pet after all.
only the wealthy high grade vampires can own a human pet. they'd shower you with their riches, feed you the highest quality of human food. clothes and accessories, to show the world who owns you.
how good must it feel, to be taken care of and not have to worry about anything. it won't even hurt to provide blood.
-
i want to write something just like this sooo bad. but i think it would be a longer, lengthy project. x reader, obviously. i already have something in the drafts.
i absolutely loved your cowboy vampire story, please continue !!
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・・・cowboy!vampire helps patch you up. it's a good thing he found you first, because he sure as hell knows how to fix a wound. also, maybe, he won't let any other man out here lay their tainted hands on you. ・・・
tags: blood mention, small injury, needle mention, praise, alcohol, no nsfw, did not proofread sorry, biting
words: 1.7k
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You inherited your grandfather's farmhouse. Miles from cities, only your fellow neighbors and townsfolk to interact with. You had no problem with that, considering you enjoyed your peace and quiet. Only the noises of the country seemed to soothe your soul. Like some part of you always belonged here.
You knew how to garden, how to herd your goats/chickens, and upkeep the farmhouse.
It was simple living, through and through. Your body gains endurance from all your hard work, but that never meant you were invincible. Accidents happen, unfortunately.
The thick heat of the sun begins to die down as it rests on the horizon. You could never get tired of the orange and purple hues as day time shifts into night. Coyotes howl in the distance, their calls like a melody to your ears.
You've always enjoyed the nocturnal time. It was calm, something you strive for. You and your chestnut stallion were on the outskirts of your property, taking a moment to enjoy the scenery.
As you begin to guide your stallion in the direction of home, an abnormal sized snake slithers right by the horse. The horse sees it before you do and reacts before you have any control. The horse buckles up and whines, lifting both of you up in the air.
You aren't able to grab on fast enough as you fall onto the hard ground. Your breath is knocked out of you as you fall against the rough terrain, a sharp slab of rock slashing the side of your leg.
You hiss, cursing under your breath, and feel the wound. It cut through your pants, blood already starting to drip out.
The snake disappears; your horse won this round. But there were more matters at stake. You grunt in pain as you sit up, putting pressure against the wound. There wasn't enough blood coming out to signal immediate danger, but you might need stitches.
Fuck. Not your strong suit.
You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to stand up.
Okay. 1... 2... 3--
"Hey! You alright?" A man calls out. You whip your head, his voice close. You see your closest neighbor on his black stallion, not too far. You wave him over as you try and stand. He comes immediately, shifting off his horse to crouch down to you.
He seems a bit scruffier than you remember, but still wearing those tinted glasses. He was...odd. Never ran into him at town and kept to himself. But kind, and you figured everyone had their own story.
The air smells like copper and you can't distinguish whether it's from him or your wound. He eyes it immediately, gingerly inspecting it. There's blood on your hand, but you smear it against your clothes. It could be worse.
"Can you stand, hun?" He asked, already trying to get you on your feet. He helps you on your horse before he gets back up on his. "I'll get ya patched up. 'S not easy sewing on yourself." He whistles short and begins to head to your house with you next to him. The pain makes you wince, but it's bearable.
He helps you inside the house, knowing if you put pressure on your leg you could bleed more. He sits you down on a wooden chair, digging out a flask hidden in his leather vest.
"This'll help with the pain," he pointed out. He finds your first aid box and fishes out the medical thread and needle.
"Oh I don't...," you spoke hesitantly. He flashes a smile, like it was comical. He screws the cap loose and slowly brings it up to your lips. His movements wait for you to accept, but he moves with such confidence. It's not even a second thought.
"Trust me, doll. You'll need it."
Your lips part as your hand guides the flask up. The man takes a step back, a second of satisfaction on his face before he is stoic once again. The alcohol burns through you once it reaches your stomach. It's...disgusting, actually. But the warmth pools throughout you after a few more sips. Your body eases up on the tension and you finally feel like you could breathe.
The man cuts off a clear section of your pants where the wound was. The bleeding stopped, thankfully, but it still had to receive a few simple stitches. He crouches low, his head parallel to your waist. His rough hand is placed against your knee to keep it steady, his touch gentle yet sturdy. You feel his thumb move against the skin, sending a cold shiver down your spine.
"Jus' a few stitches, here now. You'll have to be good and sit still. M’Kay?” He looks up at you, such a rare sight to see your neighbor below you. He was always a full foot taller. You avert your eyes and nod, finding his eye contact in tense.
The needle pokes through and it HURTS! You hiss, grabbing his flask with no hesitation. You would much rather consume this liquid fire than experience this pain. You look for anything so your eyes don’t land on his handiwork.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice husky and low. You flush at the praise, although that might’ve been due to the alcohol. The pain started to numb, but there was no denying the way his cold fingertips lingered against tingling skin.
It takes you a few minutes to realize he's already done. You move your head, the weight of it feeling like a water balloon. Just a few simple stitches, right there. He was good with his hands.
You shift to stand, quickly finding yourself dizzy. Your neighbor turns around and places both hands on your shoulders. His pressure gestures you to sit back down.
"Whoa there, easy, easy." His voice is calm, persuading your submission. "Dizzy, darlin'?" He leans in close, observing the way your eyes moved around. You nod, trying to concentrate on the words in your mouth.
He flashes his smile again, only for a second. "That's quite alright. We'll have ya lay down." His words soothe you like warm honey. Like the warmth of the alcohol in your system.
"Don't worry," he speaks again, his voice low and close to your ear. You scrunch your brows in late confusion. "You won't remember this. I'll take good care of ya, doll. Consider this payment." His large hand snakes up your throat and resting on your jaw. He turns your head to expose your neck.
Before you could register what was happening, your neighbor bites down onto your soft flesh. It's sharp--sharper than human teeth. His face is instantly buried in your neck, up close and personal. This isn't the neighbor you know. This isn't human.
The pain is worse than your stitched injury. It's hot, somehow icy, and feels like thorns spreading all throughout your body. You see your vision go white, then black, as a creeping darkness spreads throughout your body.
Like he was putting something back.
Slowly, your muscles relax. Your pain numbs as your vision starts to swim. You see your neighbor remove himself off of you, but it still feels like he's clamped down. The last thing you see before you lose consciousness is your neighbor placing his black cowboy hat back on, looking down at you with predator eyes.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆
Hours slip by as you sleep throughout the entire night. You peel your heavy eyelids back, your head carrying a dull ache. It dawns on you that the last thing you remember is falling asleep in your kitchen chair. But here you were, comfortably in your own bed.
You lift off the covers and see your small injury cleaned and bandage.
Did you pass out in the middle of it? You remember drinking, but surely it wasn't from the pain. You frown, ashamed you don't remember the rest of the night. There's a reason why you didn't drink.
You were quite lucky your distant neighbor happened to be around when you fell. You would've done it all without him, but it sure as hell would have sucked.
Your mind flashes you the memory of his voice close to your ear. The way his eyes stared through you. You shiver and stand up from your bed, easing on over to your bedroom mirror. You looked rough for sure, but nothing else was out of place.
If he carried you to your bed, you'd have to graciously thank him for that.
Your muscles are painfully sore as you walk into the kitchen, where you just were last night. His metal flask gleams in the morning light.
You pick it up and realize it's empty. You drank the whole thing? It's no wonder you don't remember anything.
Your neighbor will be back for his personal flask. You don't know it, but he left it there intentionally in order to come back. When the sun will set, he will be coming up to the edge of your property on his black stallion. His dark leather hat and tinted glasses hides his face pretty well, but you don't question who it could be.
He'll take his flask back and ask about your current state of well being. Reassuring himself the bite on your neck fully healed. Ask the last thing you remember. A satisfied smirk will sneak on his face as you apologize for getting 'too drunk'.
He'll pat your head once, accepting your apology.
"Don't worry 'bout it, doll," he'll say, his voice rough like you remember. "I drink quality stuff. Happy to share anytime." He looks down at you and you can't decipher if he's being serious or not.
You exchange pleasantries and send him off with a fresh pie to show your gratitude. You won't know he'll never eat it, but he finds it awfully endearing.
Your neighbor knows how to play this game, and slowly. You're just a cute, darling thing.
He'll take care of you, protect you from the monstrous hands of human men. He knows a bite hurts, but he promises to make you feel better than any pain can drown out.
He'll control himself for now. Have you warm up to him, let your guards down. Last night proved to be easy; it won't take long now.
where's my country vampire. A southwestern cowboy known for doing his work at night. He'll run alongside coyotes, hunting the same types of prey.
No one really questions how he gets all the animals to butcher and sell.
When the sun sets, glowing against the red dirt, he's suddenly there. Riding his black stallion, like death coming to deliver.
Sometimes you can find him in the back of the nearest dive bar. He'll still wear tinted glasses, even at night. He's drinking hard whiskey, observing the town come in and out.
.˳·˖✶𓆩 𓆪✶˖·˳.
A cowboy vampire that's suddenly surprised to see you standing on his ranch, just as the orange glow of the sun dims. You're his closest neighbor, a good few miles out. His new neighbor.
You wave, dismounting your horse. He meets you halfway, a carefree smile on his face like he's always practiced. Practiced to be human.
"Hey! I was just riding and saw you were out 'n about. We're the closest neighbors, despite the few miles, but I wanted to introduce myself in case you need anything." You were from around the region, southern hospitality never really leaves you.
"It's a pleasure, doll."
Weren't you just darling? So loose and carefree, like the rising sun itself. It makes himself appear less suspicious to get along with his fellow neighbor. But he couldn't resist glancing at your neck, then to your hands where they seemed too soft for this lifestyle.
He knew by your social nature this would not be the last time he'll see you.
It's alright, now, it's been a while since he's had some fun.
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