A vampires guide to feeding from a hemophobic partner. Ft. Neuvillette
*Pokes head out of the shadows*
Well heya. S'been a while.
What's brought this on? it started as a minor shitpost to @crystalflygeo's musings on vampire Neuv, and her mentionings of hemophobia- you know what it'll be easier to show yall.
So thats it. an elaborate shitpost.
Neuvillete x F! Reader. NSFW. Smut, general vampire goodness, Neuvillete being a fkn routine bitch because lets face it, he is.
Neuvillete could feel it. The…the pull, the desire, the need…the hunger.
The chief justice sighs as he pours over his paperwork. He would have to tell you tonight.
“Be beloved…I am hungry.” He tells you over dinner. Whilst he did not need to eat, He always made sure to prepare and join you for your evening meals…a routine one might say, he simply enjoyed spending time with his love, any spare moments he could get.
“Is that why you made steak for me tonight?” you question, knowing well his penchant for making you more Iron-rich dishes before he himself needed to feed.
Neuvillette nods solemnly, it was for your health after all; he would be remiss if he took and took only for you to become deficient. He doesn’t miss it, the sudden draining of colour from your face, or the increase in your heartbeat.
You were nervous, you always got nervous on feeding nights, and Neuvillette desperately wishes he could give you more time, but his hunger was a fickle thing, sometimes he could go weeks without needing to feed, others it was just a few days, it all hinged on how heavy his workload was. Yet he feels like more warning might be worse, because it would only psyche out his poor darling. Despite your absolute phobia of the very sight of blood, you insisted he feed off of you and you alone, an arrangement he happily complied with.
After all, whose blood better to nourish him than his darling’s?
He was always very organised when it came to this, anything for your comfort after all. After dinner and a bath, you find yourself gently tugged to bed with him, soft, nimble fingers gently massaging over your clammy skin. Sometimes you hated how afraid you were of this process, even though it had happened many many times now, without issue. You trusted Neuvillette.
You trusted the way he spoke to you, the way he held you so gently in his arms, in the way his lips slowly travel the expanse of your throat. His murmuring compliments and praise as he slips behind you, your back pressing against his chest. Considering what he was, he always felt so…warm and inviting, welcoming, despite your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
He always starts with a kiss. Most vampires prefer the side of the throat…it’s generally seen as an easier extraction point…and yet Neuvillette does not, not after discovering your aversion to blood; he instead chooses the nape, not as easy, and a little longer to extract his fill from, but this way, you never had to see a drop, and he could hold you close. “Are you ready, my darling?” At your nod, he hums, thanking you quietly before sinking his fangs in, using the light scarring from the times he’d done this before as a guide.
Your blood tastes like the finest ambrosia to him, like the first sips of water after being stranded in the desert for weeks. If he never tasted another person’s blood again in his life, and only had yours, he would die a happy man.
He rumbles softly as you whimper, it stung, of course it did, even he understood that this was not a comfortable process. His arms cross over your chest, lovingly holding you close and steady, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your exposed shoulders.
He drinks and comforts until he’s had his full, until he can feel the warmth in his cheeks return. He watches and listens to you, always keeping a constant eye on your condition, he would never ever forgive himself if he overindulged and made you suffer for it. The next part is a rather rigorous and rushed process. His fangs retract and one of his hands quickly reaches for a disinfecting wipe, the moment he pulls his lips away, he presses the wipe over the wound, cleaning it up as he coo’s softly at you.
“You did well, my darling, it’s over now…let me take care of you.” he whispers in your ear, tone thick with love and joy. He feels much better now, and it was his turn to make you feel better.
He cleans and dresses the wound with careful hands, as he cleans you up, he tries his best to clean himself up, any errant droplet of your blood on his lips is licked away. “Rest a moment my sweet, I will be right back.” He whispers to you before vanishing into the bathroom to brush his teeth and rinse his mouth. Not exactly a necessity, but if it helped abate your fears in any way? He’d do it. You’re still a little shaky when he returns, but now that he’s sure that there is nothing, no sign of blood anywhere, you couldn’t see your wound, and he didn’t smell of it, he can finally descend to pull you into his strong, yet gentle arms, so he can pepper kisses along your face and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
He’ll ask you what you want as a treat, it could be ice cream, it could be a slice of the sixteen-slice a day cake, he didn’t care how late it was, he would procure it no matter what. Anything for his darling.
This was, is and always will be, the usual routine.
However, one day, your dear Iudex, has another idea.
It starts, as all feeding evenings tend to. He cooks you a hearty, iron-rich meal, he warns you. Everything follows the usual, until you’re clean and showered, skin soft and silky from the fancy shower products he always insisted on keeping for you. (He had his own, but he was partial to body products that contained little scents.)
You sit in bed, awaiting your husband, and are taken aback when he walks in totally naked. His slim, yet sculpted physique on full display for you, pale skin unmarred by any scar or scratch, perfect in every way. “N-Neuvie?” you stammer as he crawls along the bed towards you, his gaze…sweet, yet predatory. “I thought-” “Oh my love, make no mistake, I will be feeding tonight…I just thought I’d try something…new to keep your thoughts from straying, hm?” Just what had you gotten yourself into?
Soon enough, you find yourself, face and chest pressed into the pillows your husband absolutely ploughs into you from behind, your cries muffled by the silken sheet, his hands pressing over yours, his fingers tangling between your own. You were trapped, well and truly trapped; you can't even recall the last time he’d destroyed your pussy like this.
You hear his growl from above you, and you moan for it. It wasn’t often Neuvillette lost control like this, but when he did? It was its own form of ecstasy.
You’re so caught in pleasure, you never once felt the prick of his fangs, the only indicator of a change was the way his hands moved to press your chest into the bed further, holding your top half still whilst he continues to thrust into your sopping cunt like it was the last thing he’d ever do. You orgasm with a scream of his name before falling limp, fuzzy and barely-conscious against the sheets, only able to moan weakly when his hips snap forward, burying his cock as deep into you as it can before he cums, filling you with his hot seed.
That’s when you expect him to bite, when you’re in this soft, gauzy space of post orgasm. Yet he simply quietly tends to you, you feel the usual dressing gently press over the back of your neck and you blink in confusion.
“N-neuvie-” you whimper, his response is to gently take your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles.
“It’s all over, my love. You did so well, you didn’t even notice.”
“W-wha..?”
You watch as he slowly rolls you over onto your back, giving your aggrieved spine a break after all that bending and arching. He reaches for the pitcher of water by the bedside, pouring you a glass first and helping you take small sips, before he takes a glass for himself, it wasn't quite his teeth-brushing routine, but for once, he didn’t feel it wholly necessary.
You’re shocked, you really hadn’t felt it, there wasn't any pain.. “So.” He practically purrs as he leans over you to rub his nose against yours “what does my darling beloved want as her reward?” He asks, shifting some of his silky white hair from his face.
“C-could we…do it like this more often?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. This was so…out of the ordinary for him, to change up the routine…so you figure you might as well change up the reward.
He tilts his head at you before chuckling, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hands move down to your back, massaging at the sore spots and making you groan appreciatively.
“I think that can be arranged.”
Taglist: @stygianoir@meimeimeirin@ainescribe@dustofthedailylife@rjssierjrie@crystalflygeo@asoulsreverie@zomzomb1e@moraxsthrone@mysnowmanandmebaby@inlustris-is-slowly-dying@pvbbyb0y