I have a history degree, and have written papers that are peer reviewed and required extensive writing skills. (Don’t judge this paragraph, tumblr is my safe place to throw shit on screens). I have been thinking for days. I think I want to use my skills to create one of the most heartbreaking ikevamp fics to ever be made. I have the story line, but no time to write it. Not sure how to move forward with this.
The theme of being unable to tell Le Comte “No,” or to question him when he changes the subject? I think these are connected to a Pureblood Vampire’s power of persuasion. Leonardo uses it sometimes too but only when it comes to the secrets of becoming a vampire.
Ikemen Vampire Fanfiction
Inspired by the Ikemen Vampire “Sexy White Day” event
Masterlist
Featuring: Le Comte De Saint Germain x Female Reader
Disclaimer: Ikemen Vampire Characters are the property of Cybird
Word Count: 2000
Warnings: NSFW sexual content
“Sebastian?” You try calling to your friend one more time before the butler disappears, but to no avail.
That sneaky historian could disappear faster—well faster than a vampire!
He claimed Le Comte was willing to do a role-play with you. You’d drawn one of the slips of paper and he promptly left to inform Le Comte of your choice so he could “prepare?”
Sebastian returned a few minutes later to fetch you to your host’s private study.
You had been inside Le Comte’s office plenty of times since your arrival here at the mansion. More often recently since the two of you became lovers. Yet, just now, you felt extremely anxious.
Comte was always so accommodating and pleasant. It still threw you off when he would switch from his ardent-host mode to his private-time mode. A side of him that was no less alluring but which was
considerably more passionate and personal.
Even having experienced the more personal faucets of your lover you still felt unsure as to what you should expect. You had never seen him act out a part before…
Finally, you took a deep breath and raised your hand to knock firmly on the door.
“Please enter.” Comte’s deep voice called to you as he had so many times before.
As you opened the door you couldn’t help but pause as your lover came into view. You took in the sight of the most beautiful man you had ever seen with meticulous attention wishing you could memorize
every aspect of this beautiful figure.
You may be a little biased because you were—undeniably—in love with him. Yet even the most casual observer would have to admit your ardent admiration wasn’t completely unfounded. Somehow the
mixture of soft and warm golds that graced every part of his perfectly tailor suit, expensive shoes and even those inescapable eyes seemed to enfold the room in his warmth. Surrounded by hourglasses of all
sorts this man, as timelessly beautiful as a painting, turned to smile at you.
“Ah, _, are you ready for your lessons today?”
His smile was as disarming as ever and you felt your heart warm beneath his gaze.
“Yes, Maestro.” You curtsied. Something he had helped you perfect not long after your arrival at the mansion.
“I understand you will be making your débute into society in only a few weeks. Let us be certain you are prepared.”
“No, my dearest, like this.” Comte catches your hand and turns it gently into the proper position.
“Thank you, maestro. I would be remiss without you.” You don’t quite keep the disappointment out of your voice.
After over and hour of meticulous instructions it feels as though Le Comte’s lessons still have no end in sight. Had Sebastian somehow included “Grueling” with the title etiquette-tutor when he explained this scenario to Comte? Or perhaps you were failing ridiculously? So much that Le Comte had not choice but to stretch out his lesson in and effort to actually make you presentable among the French Aristocracy?
“Is something wrong, ma cherie?” Le Comte asked noting your expression.
“Oh? Oh nothing, monsieur. I was simply considering your instructions.”
While you had learned a great deal from your alleged instructor you couldn’t help wishing you had instead spent the afternoon with your lover.
The social nuances of nineteenth century France were still a bit foreign to you. Yet you had managed well enough the few times Comte had chosen to take you to social gatherings. Or so you had thought.
At this point you weren’t certain whether your manners were suitable for a barn not to mention the aristocracy. Everything Le Comte did was so perfect and while he was gentle with his direction you were
feeling more and more inadequate.
“You have not learned your lesson… have you ?” The reproach in his tone caught you off guard and you looked up into those otherworldly golden eyes.
When you do not reply he continues. “When you keep something from me, I always know.”
Comte’s gloved hand caught your wrist drawing it up to his mouth placed a tender—surprisingly sensual—kiss there. When his eyes once again met yours they demanded a response and you scrambled to give one.
“You have done a wonderful job as my instructor Comte. Thank you for enlightening me on so many things I can do better to fit in here.” You decide evasion of the topic is your best chance to avoid making this awkward.
It wasn’t his fault he took the cosplay so literally. Nor was it his fault you were so terrible at following his instructions.
“But…?” Comte asked releasing your hand but not your gaze.
“Nothing. Just… thank you for teaching me so much. Anyway, I should go. I’m sure Sebastian will need my help with dinner—”
You withdraw from him and head for the door to his office only to find yourself unable to open it.
The sudden warmth at your back makes your heart pound. And as you glance up you see Comte’s hand place firmly against the door holding it closed.
You hadn’t even heard him move yet there he was. Startlingly beautiful and so close it was difficult to breath. The golden sleeve of his coat was near enough to your cheek to discern every woven thread of the meticulously cared for attire.
“Maestro?” You ask.
“Your lessons are not yet complete _. There is also the matter of your choice to be untruthful.”
You sigh turning to look up into those golden eyes you adore. The face you long to see filled with joy instead has a darkness—a loneliness even—that makes your heart sink.
“Comte, I simply—”
“The truth is what I asked for.” He interrupted.
In his long life, Comte had understandably collected his own assortment of sad and dark moments.
Memories that caused him pain and loneliness… for he had said goodbye to far too much. Given up far too much.
Even his time with you seemed so fragile and brief that he had found it difficult to allow himself to express his love for you. You had tried to give him moments of peace during your times together. Times that would ease the lonely look you still saw in his eyes every now and then. While he rarely showed that side of himself to you… somehow you felt this moment was especially important to him. This was something he needed from you.
“Yes, Comte. Just now I was wishing… well… I wanted to be with you today. I was thinking I wished you were acting as my lover this afternoon. Not my instructor. That I would miss even a moment with
you—acting as yourself—made me feel sad. I didn’t mean to be untruthful about it… I just didn’t want you to feel I was disappointed in your efforts. Because I’m not. There is just something I want much
more than your instruction on etiquette.”
You reach up to gently touch his cheek. The warmth of his
smooth skin was so inviting. How long had it been since the two of you had been alone like this? Comte rarely trusted himself to be this close to you for long.
“That was what I was thinking. That I wanted your company. Just you…”
Comte gave you a pained smile. “Perhaps I was overzealous in my duties then. You would have me as your instructor… yet I left out the crucial element of including myself. Forgive my oversight, ma cherie?”
“Of course. Does this mean I get to… we can be closer?” You blush while attempting to put your feelings into words. You knew at times being close to you was difficult for him. Often he would apologize
profusely and ask that you give him leave to be alone. He admitted his feelings made your blood so appealing at times he—the ever self-contained host—nearly lost himself to wanting you.
“You wanted me..?" His voice wavered. Those golden eyes held a hesitance that caused a twist of pain in your chest. Didn't he realize how you felt? How you longed to be in his arms? To hear his voice whisper into your ear all the things he wanted to do to you.
"Always, Comte." You meet his gaze full on. Daring him to believe you. Daring him to see the truth of exactly how much you loved him.
"Then turn around."
"What? Why?"
"Don't you trust your lover?" He asked teasingly.
"I do… I'm just reluctant to turn away. You are far more appealing to look at then the door."
"Trust me, little one, there will be plenty of time to look at me in a moment."
He captured your wrist and turned you in his arms the way a man would twirl his partner on the dance floor. His free hand caught you at your waist, pressing pleasantly against your abdomen and drawing
you flush against him.
"Keep your hands here." He commanded placing them on the wall so that your arms were above your head. "If you move them there will be consequences."
His warning brought a smile to your lips but that smile faltered as the gold of his tie shaded your vision.
"Comte?" You ask.
"Losing one sense heightens the others, does it not?"
"In theory…" you admit hesitantly.
"Let us test this theory then. Shall we?"
With that he began to unzip the back of your dress exposing your skin to his touch. He must have already unbuttoned his shirt because you felt the warmth of his stomach press against your back as he
shifted closer to you.
"What do you think? Does losing your sight allow you to hear more?" He whispered into your ear before sliding a hand up your thigh. "Feel more? And possibly taste more?"
He nipped at the base of your neck causing a pleasant shiver to run across your exposed skin.
"Oh Comte…" you sigh his name in pleasure as those powerful hands grip your thighs pressing you flush against him. You feel the pounding of his heart at your back as his chest rises and falls with each breathe.
"Tell me what you feel. What you want from me_______." He commanded caressing your thigh with small sensuous circles.
"I want your hands to warm me. Your body to mold to mine. I want your touch to set me on fire Comte."
"There's my naughty little pupil… your honesty is quite shocking you know. I may have to give you exactly what you ask for."
He slid your skirt upward until he could press his hardness directly against yours skin. The heat of him made you moan with longing even as his fingers forced you to spread your legs.
"You already want me this much?" He asked exploring the slick wetness he found inside of you. He stroked his fingers against your entrance then slid them inside seeking the aching heat that could be
found there. The movement of his entering and withdrawing his long fingers was making your legs tremble and you core burn for him.
"I'm so ready for you to take me. Please Comte." You begged.
"Ah, but how shall I take you?” He teased.
Comte loved to ask questions seeking your response to everything he did to you. It was as though he were exploring every aspect of you intent to learn everything there was to know. What you needed.
What you wanted. What you felt when he touched you…
“Shall I be gentle? Tender? Drawing out every wave of pleasure until you beg me to finish you? " He asked. "Or shall I punish you? My naughty girl who daydreams during her lessons. Allowing her mind to
wander… to contemplate making love, instead of focusing on her lessons."
You were already so wet you were dripping down your thighs. At your moan of pleasure he pressed himself between your legs. He refused to enter you yet but just having the length of him so near made
your core contract with pleasure.
Comte's hands were hardly idle, however, as they drew away from pleasing you. They began exploring the curve of your stomach and your waist. Freeing you of the confines of your dress he began expertly loosening your corset. When those delicious hands at last cupped your breasts in gentle sensuous strokes another wave of damp heat dripped down your thighs.
"Was this what you wanted, ma Cherie? When you were daydreaming during your lessons. Or was it something significantly more naughty?"
“This is what I wanted Comte.” You admit summoning a triumphant chuckle from your lover.
Comte pressed you against the door his breath heated against your ear. "We are not finished yet mistress. For you see rebellious young ladies need to be punished when they lie to their Maestro. Are
you ready to be punished my little vixen?"
The devilish light in his smile was one you had seen only a few times. Yet it made your blood run hot with anticipation of just what he may have in mind.
"I am at your mercy master Comte. Punish me as you see fit."
In a smooth but firm movement he shifted his hips pressing your thighs open wider. You felt the tip of him tease your entrance.
Aching for him to be deeper you pressed back against him. A moan of frustration escaping when he did not thrust inside.
"How much do you want it, little one? And how hard?"
"I want it so badly Comte. Please!" You moan.
"That's only one answer. I asked two questions."
"Oh God Comte. Please take me hard. I need you so much. Just…. please!"
He nipped at your earlobe still refusing to move.
"Have I told you I love it when you beg me?"
"Comte-" you were trembling so hard you could hardly speak. His fingers had caught your hardened nipples and pinched them with just enough pressure to summon pleasure.
"You tremble for me. You ache for me. And you are only permitted to dream of me."
"Y-yes! Oh God yes!!" His first thrust broke your reply into a cry of pleasure. His punishing pace was far from gentle yet you gloried in ever thrust. Ached at every withdrawal. Begged him to fill you again and again with every cry of pleasure he summoned.
"That's it my little nightingale. Sing sweetly for me. Tell me how I make you want me."
"Oh Comte! I'm so close…" The trembling in your legs became too much to hold you up. To support you his hands at last released your breasts. Instead he wrapped his arms around your waist holding you
against him. Easing you through the orgasm with gentle thrust after thrust until the trembling inside of you reached its peak.
He turns you around to face him cradling your limp body against the warmth of his chest. He scoops you up into his arms and carries you to the couch where he settles you comfortably against his chest. Your
heartbeats mingling together as though put in sync by some unknown force.
Comte’s shirt was open though not discarded as were his trousers. Your own clothing had been tossed carelessly across the room landing on the desk. You stroke the exposed skin of his chest as he leans forward to place a kiss on your forehead.
“Was I too hard on you, my love?” He whispered. The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache.
You propped yourself up on his chest so you could look down into those gorgeous golden eyes.
“That was perfect Comte.” You smile at him pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I assure you I am completely repentant and will never daydream during your lessons again.”
“Well I find that disappointing.” He chuckled. “Perhaps I’ll need to find other things to punish you for, then.”
“I’m sure that won’t be difficult.” You stroke his hair brushing it away from his handsome features so you can have a better look at him. “I love you Comte.”
He rolled over tucking you against him as he does and easily switching places so he is on top of you.
“Keep singing like that, ma cherie… and I’ll need to reward you for being so sweet.” His mischievous chuckle ends in a passionate kiss as he claims your mouth the way he had just claimed your body.
“I love you too, __. I hope someday I can express to you how fortunate I feel every time I hold you like this. Every chance I have to love you like this. Please never assume there is anything in this world I want more.”
“I feel the same. Every moment with you is so precious Comte. Please never let me go.”
“As my mistress commands.” He chuckled stealing another kiss. The first of many as your passion rekindled the burn of sweet longing his touch always inspired.
Fill free to deny this request! But can you do Jonah, Isaac, Vincent, and comte with mc having a cat that isn't the best, and the cat is kinda mean? (Ex, biting and scratching if you try and be near her. Growling and hissing at other pets, and will hiss if you walk by them in the walkway.) My apologies, English is not my first language.
hey sorry it took me a literal year to write this...
IKEVAMP AND IKEREV REQUESTS CLOSED
Jonah:
Jonah is a little cat-like and mean too, though he gets super pouty that your cat doesn't like him. Why wouldn't it? He's perfect! Would cry if your cat ever warmed up to him.
Isaac:
Isaac is terrified of your cat and wants nothing to do with it. If your cat stays away from him, he will stay away from your cat.
Vincent:
Look, I can't explain why, but your cat would tolerate him, I know it. Everyone and everything likes vincent, your cat included. Even if not at first.
Comte:
He is the epitome of perfection and patience. He understands and will do his best to not bother your cat. Chances are though, at some point your cat will start to like him.
