Ahhhh, I haven’t done Vamp!Lock in such a long time. It was fantastic. Thank you stranger! <3
Stranger: [Vamp!lock] John, I didn't intend for you to see that. It's not what you think. SH
You: No? It's not? Then what the bloody hell did I see? JW
Stranger: People pick people up in bars and such things. To be intimate. Why shouldn't you believe that's what you saw. SH
You: You're not like that. JW
Stranger: Then what exactly do you think I was doing? SH
You: I don't know. JW
I just-you were right there-I don't know. JW
Stranger: Exactly, John. SH
You don't know what you saw. SH
You: No. I know there was something going on, but I just don't know what. JW
Stranger: There's nothing going on. SH
It's not an uncommon thing to be intimate with strangers. SH
And that's what I was doing. End of story. SH
You: [Delayed] Fine, Christ, alright. JW
Stranger: I'd appreciate it if we left it now. SH
Stranger: And don't tell anyone. SH
You: Don't tell anyone you were intimate with a stranger in a bloody alley? JW
Stranger: Oh, fine. Fine, gossip. I don't care. SH
You: I'm not going to gossip. JW
Bloody hell. JW
Stranger: I would expect little else. SH
You: Right. Of course you would, because alone is what protects you, right? JW
I'm going out. Don't bloody wait up. JW
Stranger: Yes, as a matter of fact, it does. SH
You wouldn't understand. SH
Oh, and you complain that /I/ sulk. SH
You: No. I really don't think you understand, Sherlock. JW
But it doesn't bloody matter, does it? JW
Stranger: I understand plenty. I don't expect you to understand why I do what I do. SH
You: You really don't, Sherlock. JW
Stranger: Go on then. Do enlighten me. SH
You: [Delayed] No. It's not worth it. JW
Stranger: Of course I'm not. SH
Bye then. SH
You: [Long Delay] I was jealous. Is that better? JW
I was bloody jealous to see you getting intimate with some random stranger. JW
Christ, then you immediately thought I was going to gossip about it. Like you're not the most important person to me. JW
Stranger: [...] You've nothing to be jealous of. SH
You: Yeah, because seeing you intimate with someone else doesn't bother me. JW
I'm going to the pub. Don't wait up. JW
Stranger: No, I mean it, John. SH
You've nothing to be jealous of. SH
Consider yourself lucky. SH
You: I've everything to be jealous of. JW
Stranger: You really haven't, John. SH
You: This is pointless. JW
You telling me not to be jealous is going to stop me. JW
So, I'm going to get sloshed and we'll forget we had this conversation. JW
Ta. JW
Stranger: I wasn't being intimate. SH
Well, I mean, I was. Not in the way you think. SH
John, please. SH
I can't tell you, I wish I could, but I can't. SH
You: Then what was it? JW
Why can't you tell me? JW
Stranger: Because you wouldn't believe me. SH
And when you eventually did, you'd leave. SH
You: Try me. JW
Stranger: You're going to think I'm insane. SH
You: Tell me. JW
Stranger: [...] I'm not human. SH
You: [Delayed] What? SH
Stranger: I'm not human, John. SH
I realise just how ridiculous it sounds. SH
You: What are you then? JW
Stranger: Nosferatu. SH
Colloquially known as a vampire. SH
Stranger: I assure you John, I am not joking. SH
Check with Mycroft, if you like. SH
You: No, I believe you. JW
You wouldn't really lie about this... JW
Stranger: You believe me? SH
I wouldn't lie about something like this. SH
So, like I said. I was not being 'intimate' with that stranger. SH
You: [Delayed] You were going to feed from them... JW
Stranger: Yes. I was. SH
I wasn't going to hurt them, if that's what you're jumping to. SH
You: No. I just... JW
They looked like they were enjoying it. JW
Stranger: They were. SH
It's how a lot of us feed, actually. SH
There's no pain, for either of us. SH
You: [Delayed] Right. Okay. JW
Then feed from me. JW
Stranger: Sorry what? SH
You: Feed from me. JW
Stranger: No. SH
John, I can't do that. SH
You: Why not? JW
Stranger: Because I can't ask that of you. SH
Feeding is incredibly intimate. SH
And I never feed from the same person twice. SH
You: Right, well, it would stop me from being jealous and I know your secret now. JW
I'm the safest one to feed from. JW
Stranger: I'll start to crave you, John. SH
You: And why would that be bad? JW
Stranger: Because we'd have to mate. SH
You: [Delayed] You don't want me as your mate. JW
Right. Got it. JW
Makes sense. Perfectly fine. JW
We'll just forget this. JW
Stranger: John. SH
My kind mate for life. SH
You'd never have anyone else. SH
I'd feed from you frequently. SH
And if I didn't eventually turn you, I'd lose you. SH
You: I understand. JW
I'd likely not make a great mate anyhow. JW
So, let's forget this whole thing about me continuously making a fool of myself, yeah? JW
Stranger: John, it's too much to ask you. SH
I've lived this long without anyone. SH
It's hard enough knowing I'm going to one day lose you anyway. SH
You: [Delayed] Then turn me. JW
Stranger: No. SH
No, I can't do that. SH
You: Why not? JW
Stranger: Because I'm old, John. SH
I've lost people and I've seen so many horrible things. SH
I can't do that to you. Not to you. SH
You: So what do we do then? JW
We just keep going like nothing will happen until I die? JW
Stranger: You don't want to be like me, John. SH
You deserve someone you can live your life with. SH
You: The person I want to do that with doesn't want me. JW
Christ, I should just stop trying. JW
I'm going to the pub. I won't respond. I'm going to get sloshed and we'll forget it. JW
Stranger: Have you not listened to what I've said? SH
I can't let this happen to you. SH
No matter how much I want you, I want you to be happy more. SH
You: I've listened, Sherlock. JW
Every time I come up with a solution or share my willingness, you immediately reject it. JW
I get it. You don't want me. I should have figured that out. JW
I'm going to get sloshed and that will be that. Don't wait up. JW
Stranger: I want you! SH
Damn it, John, I want you. SH
You're telling me you really want this? SH
You: [Delayed] Yes, Sherlock. JW
I want you, this, whatever it is so long as you're included. JW
Stranger: It's not something you can take lightly. I'm not going to turn you for a while, if this works. SH
You: That's fine. JW
Stranger: Then come home. SH
I'm starving. SH
You: [Delayed] You mean it? JW
Stranger: Yes, John. SH
You: Right. Okay. JW
Is it alright if I've had a bit to drink? JW
Stranger: How much? SH
You: I'll just walk back. JW
That will help. JW
Stranger: Have you had a lot? SH
You: Just a smidgen. JW
Stranger: Because if alcohol is affecting your decision.. SH
And also if you've had a lot, you won't taste as good. SH
You: The alcohol isn't affecting my decision. JW
I brought this up to you before I was at the pub. JW
I had a pint, and maybe just a bit more. JW
Stranger: I'm just making sure. SH
Alright, that should be fine. I suppose I'm too hungry to mind either way. SH
You: Right. Good. JW
I'm nearly there. JW
Stranger: I might jump you. SH
You: Jump me? JW
If I'd known you were that hungry, I would have done this earlier. JW
Stranger: Well I was supposed to eat earlier today, but that didn't happen. SH
It's not just that, your scent will be stronger. I'm letting myself go a little. SH
You: Oh. Right. JW
I'm a bit excited. JW
Stranger: You are? SH
We're most certainly going to sleep together. SH
You: Yes. JW
Right, I'm coming up now. JW
Stranger: I'll be waiting. SH
You: So it was really happening. John looked up the stairs to their flat and ignored the beginning pound of his heart, his hands gripping the banister nervously. He was excited, more than he should be, but this was the first time he was going to be fed from. It also meant Sherlock was going to be his mate for life soon Christ. That alone was enough the be nerve wracking. Closing his eyes, the blond took a deep shaky breath and began making his way up. The nerves seemed to melt to the back of his mind and his eager excitement built itself all the way back up. John opened the door and walked inside, dragging a hand through his hair. "Sherlock?"
Stranger: Sherlock was certainly nervous. Very nervous, actually. But, he was also hungry. Starving even. He hadn't eaten a thing in weeks. Not to mention he was now going to have... John. He'd never thought he'd be here, but John had agreed, John wanted to do this.. It wasn't as if John was just a meal to him. They were going to mate. Perhaps he wouldn't have to lose him after all. That made his chest feel warm. He raised his eyebrows quickly however, sucking in a quick gasp as he heard John's voice, his scent becoming quite overpowering as soon as he entered the room. Sherlock looked up to him with dark eyes. "Sit down. Now. Or I'll come to you."
You: He hadn't even made it through the door and he was being ordered to sit? The blond cleared his throat and looked down at the floor. "Right, do you mean... Do you want me to sit down, on the ground?" He inquired, feeling all the more ridiculous. He supposed he could kneel on the floor, but he didn't see how that would be any help. So the doctor closed the door, locked it, and began to remove his coat and scarf. "Just... Give me a minute. I can make my way over to you if you can wait. Or, if you can't, then I'll just sit right here. Whichever you prefer, but wearing my scarf and coat will just get in the way and frustrate you." John explained, finally turning to look at the brunet, ignoring the way his pulse picked up in pace at the sight of the other male.
Stranger: Sherlock's eyes stuck on John, his breath picking up and his chest heaving. He could smell John so clearly, and it was delicious. /He/ was delicious. And it wasn't even just the smell, just looking at him was making Sherlock fidgety.. "You're going to want to sit. Right here.." He indicated to the sofa. "Now, John." He practically growled, leaning forward in his seat, looking all too excited. "Before I come over there to get you." He added slowly, raising his eyebrows lightly as he kept his dark, almost black eyes on John, brimming with anticipation.
You: The growl sent shivers down his spine and John found himself cemented in place. There was a challenge underlining Sherlock's answer and the blond wanted nothing more than to accept it. To taunt and tease the brunet. So he stood exactly in place, making no move to cross to the couch or do anything else. "I suggest you come over here and get me." He shot back, voice far more steady than he believed. Curling his fingers to form a fist, the male uncurled them before clenching into a fist again. A way to focus on something other than the eager impulse to flee and have the man give chase.
Stranger: Sherlock curled his lip slightly, watching with something of confusion as John remained where he was. He clenched his hands into his jeans, his fingers digging into the fabric as he waited for John to join him. But he was getting impatient and he didn't waste anymore time standing quickly and crossing the room with speed. His hands shot out and he placed them on the spaces of wall beside John's head, leaning in and caging him against said wall, his dark eyes fixed to him intensely as he let out a slow, deep growl.
You: John hadn't expected it to happen so quickly, and yet Sherlock was right there within a matter of seconds. The intent behind the move settled deep within the blond's core and the doctor found the situation even more alluring than before. The growl just made it all the better. Releasing a quaking breath, John leaned back against the wall, fully caged in by the detective's entire frame. He couldn't really pick a word to describe what he felt and found himself just giving in instead. "Oh, God, yes." The male breathed, head tipping partially to the side to expose the vulnerable flesh of his neck.
Stranger: Sherlock's eyes wandered slowly, trailing down John's breathless face, his parted lips and landing on his neck- dear God, his neck. Sherlock could practically see his pulse beating ferociously under his skin and Sherlock was panting just as hard. He leaned in hastily, pressing his nose to John's warm skin, taking in a long breath and letting his open mouth drag over his neck. "You smell delicious." He breathed out hotly, leaning into John so he couldn't get away, not that he was going to.
You: Christ. Sherlock looked so domineering and dangerous this way. It piqued his fight or flight response, flooding his veins with adrenaline and arousal. He could feel this thin thread between them and it was on the verge of snapping. He knew the moment it broke would be time for the brunet to finally take was he was starving over. The anticipation was simply tormenting him. "Go on then," John taunted, unable to stop himself. "Have your taste and see if I taste the same."
Stranger: Sherlock let out a low, rumbling growl into John's neck and pulled back for a moment with a huff of breath. He let his eyes close for just a moment as his fangs were unsheathed, drawing out down past his lips before he instantly leaned in again. His dry lips trailed over John's neck and his arms shifted so he could curl them around his friend, knowing he wasn't used to this and he'd most likely have to hold him up. Carefully, Sherlock pressed his face into John's neck, his fangs piercing his skin rather deeply before replacing them with his lip and taking a long, greedy sip. John's blood was extraordinary, making him shiver and cling to him closer as he drank.
You: God, that growl. It turned him on the more it happened and he shouldn't like it. Shouldn't be anywhere near as turned on about this as he was. It just seemed to worsen when he finally saw Sherlock's fangs, the thought of them latching onto his skin, pinning him in place-fuck. John took in a steady breath to will his growing erection away just as the fangs pierced his skin. He cried out, the noise choked and startled at sharp jolt of pain that came with it at first. He held onto the brunet, fingers curling into the fabric of the detective's shirt as the male drank from him. He was glad to know that the brunet was enjoying himself, pleased that he could get him to eat, really. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head more to the side in order to grant better access and let the man enjoy himself.
Let the emotional roller coaster begin! Thank you stranger. I had planned on going a different route, but then it changed and I was much too tired to get on the planned route. It was great, even if there was a mishap with a spider!
Stranger: If it has any meaning, I want you to know that I'm sorry. SH [Male, vamp. Hunter!John.]
You: Don't even try. -JW
As if I'd bloody believe you. -JW
Stranger: Simply because I am of a different species. SH
You: Simply because your kind lies. Repeatedly. -JW
It's a common trait you're all instilled with. -JW
You wouldn't know guilt. You have no heart. -JW
Stranger: I do know guilt, John. I know it far better than you ever could. However, if you are so determined, then I prompt you to be rid of me. SH
Stranger: Not once, since we met have I endeavoured to hurt you. SH
You: You didn't have the chance to hurt me, Sherlock. -JW
You won't get the chance either. -JW
I've already packed. -JW
Stranger: I would never dream of hurting you, John Watson. SH
You: Empty words from a shallow monster. -JW
Stranger: [Delayed.] I see. You offer no sympathy to us. Humans are pathetic. SH
You: Drop your facade then? -JW
Good. Very good. -JW
Listen closely, Sherlock Holmes. I'm going to hunt you down and drive a stake right through the chest cavity that is meant to host your heart. -SH
And I won't even blink. -JW
Stranger: Very well. I look forward to it. I still reside in 221B. SH
You: I'm aware. -JW
I'll see you shortly. -JW
Stranger: After everything, you view me as a monster. SH
You: Must you drag this out any longer? -JW
Stranger: Might as well. I do not take blood from the living. I was forced into this, Watson. Unable to survive without blood-- desperate for a kill. SH
You: As if I'd ever feel sorry for you. -JW
Since you seem so down about it, you must truly be looking forward to your death. -JW
Stranger: We were friends. You may have even loved me. SH
You: Shut up. -JW
Stranger: [No reply.]
You: John tossed his phone away from him and dragged his fingers through his hair. Rage, and an emotion entirely indescribable, bubbled within his gut. He ignored it, keeping calm and steady as he moved over the weapons he had spread out. It was a wonder Sherlock hadn't found anything more than just his gun; he'd had weapons spread throughout his entire room. He'd stopped hunting once he'd met the detective, assuring himself that he wasn't needed and vampiric crimes were on the downfall. Bringing up a throwing knife, he inspected how dull the blade had turned before setting it to the side. Tonight.. Tonight he would return to the life.
Hours later, John strode carefully, greeting Mrs. Hudson with a sheepish and embarrassed smile. His excuse for storming out was a simple domestic. She believed it easily, finishing off her herbal soother before going to bed. Focusing on the task at hand, the blond steadily climbed the steps, pushing the door to the flat open carefully. There was a blade in hand, the hunter calculating all potential angles for attack as he moved into the flat.
Stranger: Sherlock had taken his place against his own chair, legs crossed and hands folded neatly in his lap while he prepared himself for John's arrival. He would miss the place, that much was sure, and he would miss his only friend. With a quiet hum, the detective, or rather ex-detective gathered his thoughts and opened his eyes to view the surroundings, their usual verdigris having turned to a lively scarlet. Rage, pain, and fear was evident in the air-- he could smell it-- hear John's heartbeat from a mile away. Hardly elevated. Good, then. "You've returned." He offered into the darkness, his baritone oddly croaky. It wasn't his fault. He never wanted this lifestyle, forced to endure an eternity with fear and spite. John seemed like an exit, once, but that seemed like very, very long ago.
You: Coming to a stop before the entrance of the sitting area, he focused on the vampire and drew in all the spite and hatred he could. So /enraged/ by the shift in color and the cool regard. No matter how hoarse or terse the detective sounded, John could not let himself believe the man was emotional. /No/. Sherlock wasn't a man anymore; he was a monster. Licking his lips as he cocked his head, the hunter tightened his grip on his weapon and loomed in closer with cautious yet eager steps. "Must we really do this? You vampires have always had this bloody likening of last words. Could never just die silently-you lot always have to drag it out." He spoke, tone calm and just the bit taunting. "What'll it be then? You going to fight or just sit there?"
Stranger: Sherlock chuckled and swore he could feel the moisture of tears on his cheeks. "I suppose I'll just sit here. A death by your hand is better than an eternity of loss, hatred and fear." With a small roll of his shoulders, he leaned back, before reaching under the chair to pull a little cross from it, hissing quietly, before returning it to the human. "I found this. May be useful. Take care of yourself, hm?"
You: Out of all the things John had expected, an assisted suicide or a pathetic murder was not what he suspected. It irked the man, which was in no way acceptable. Why should he be irritable or angered by the response of the vampire? It was a /good/ thing that the man was going to accept his death and make it simple for them both. Yet John had /needed/ the battle and chaos he had so enthusiastically baited for. Nonetheless, his disappointment was fleeting. Accepting the cross, John tucked it between his belt and trousers before reaching down to hold Sherlock in place. Weapon poised above the place that would host his heart. "Do not expect me to believe you genuinely care. You're nothing but a monster, Sherlock Holmes."
Stranger: Sherlock sucked in a deep breath that he hardly needed and avoided John's gaze, looking down for a moment, more of that horrible moisture clinging to his pale skin. He would go to Hell, surely, if there was one, and if he was granted with that luxury as opposed to wandering for an eternity. Despite his need for normality and humanity, John was correct. He was a monster. Involuntarily, perhaps, but one nonetheless. Turning his head to view John's expression-- one of hatred-- his own softened as he tilted his head, pressing a small kiss to the edge of John's lips, just for safekeeping. The warmth there was incredible, and he pulled away just as quickly as he had approached.
You: The pressure of lips to his would be his breaking. His hatred dissipating with a hiss and then a quick flick of his wrist to cause pain. The blade did not penetrate the detective, the tip of the metal digging into skin to create a long gash from collarbone to shoulder as he pulled away. He didn't turn his back on the other man, but he retreated, unable to accomplish what it was that he had come to do. /Breathe, Watson/, his mind supplied, attempting to regain control over the war in heart and mind. /Breathe/. Yet he couldn't. Dragging a hand up his face, he scrubbed, drawing back further until he was against the wall. A mistake, and one that would cost him greatly if Sherlock chose to attack, but John wasn't thinking.
Stranger: Sherlock winced and bit back a snarl as the blade tore into his flesh, his fangs involuntarily elongating. No. He would never hurt John. Despite the other's beliefs, he remained where he was, raising a hand to the ripped flesh. "You hate me that much... You hate my species so much that you would murder the man you once would have claimed to love." Hurt was evident in his tone. "I didn't want this, Watson, even if I may be a coward."
You: The words, the hurt, the /baiting/! He couldn't handle it. He couldn't take it any longer. "You," he began, pointing the bloody blade at the man with just barely suppressed raged. "You don't know what-" John cut off, taking a moment to simply /breathe/ because he'd long forgotten how with his rage. "You were not supposed to be like this. /You/ were supposed to be special /and/ human." He continued, looking away from Sherlock as if he couldn't dare look at the man. "You were supposed to be /safe/, and now... /Now/ I find out your one of those damned monsters!" He began to shout, blade all but forgotten as he leaned against the wall. "I figured, you'd give a fight... Of course you would-they always do. Then I would-then I would be able to do it, but you just /sat there/. Like some damned saint and I," He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he /breathe/?
Stranger: A monster, yes. That's exactly what he was. John's words rung true, and each word was filled with agony and loathing to an entirely new scale. Standing to his full height, he dared to approach and took John's hand which clutched the blade in his own, positioning it over his 'heart'. "I'm no saint. You said it yourself, John." He smiled, albeit a little sadly. "We're all monsters." He began to press the knife into his flesh, hissing. "Why do you refuse /now/?" If he was to die, he trusted John enough to be rid of his corpse. Mrs. Hudson would be okay, and the Yard would be okay. He doubted Mycroft, though.
You: Stiffening at the hand holding his, John tugged to pull it away as panic flooded him. Sherlock was going to kill himself using his hand and blade. Which shouldn't be a problem at all considering it was the very reasoning for why he was there. But John didn't want that-he didn't want to hear the hiss or the plunge of a dagger against bone or muscle. Terror filled him more and he struggled, clawing at Sherlock's hand with his own. He didn't want this. He didn't want it! "Stop! /Stop!/" He shouted, verging on hysterics. The transition was so quick, his heart thudding madly in his chest. Each pull of his hand only made it worse. "Stop! /Please/. Just stop..."
Stranger: Sherlock paused as John began to scream, able to hear his heartbeat elevating and thudding desperately. He dropped the man's hand, carefully, and wrapped his arms around him, hoping that the safety could soothe the human. "Sshhh," He managed. "It's alright, John. It's alright. You don't have to do it. You don't have to kill me. Be calm, John. Just relax." His voice echoed like a purr. "Just relax. I'm not going to hurt you."
You: Once the dagger was released, the shorter man all but sagged against the detective. Hands gripped vain fabric with worried desperation as he tried to level himself. Doctor. He was a doctor. He moved his hands to the brunet's chest to host pressure on the wounds, wanting to stop the bleeding but it wasn't... Something was wrong and-and he was going to lose Sherlock. The panic was strong enough to frazzle and fray the blond, his eyes beginning to water as he pressed into the tattered fabric. Sherlock's words didn't reach him until minutes later, his face pressed into the unmarred shoulder as he sobbed his words in repetition of, 'I was wrong,' 'I'm sorry,' and 'I'm so sorry.'
Stranger: Sherlock winced again as pressure was applied to the wounds but didn't hiss nor pull away. He was fine-- medical attention to a vampire was hardly necessary. "Hush. Don't apologise. Just relax, John." He repeated like a mantra. "I want you to calm down. Can you do that for me, John?" Pulling him up slightly, he carried the human to his chair, setting him down comfortably. "C'mon. Just relax."
You: Slowly, but surely, John began to calm bit by bit. He closed his eyes, just breathing it all in and relaxing as the vampire carried him and held him. Finally he was able to breathe, shoulders only giving the occasional quiver. He didn't say anything and didn't dare explain himself, here merely sat with his hands hiding his face. He had just begun to realize he couldn't kill the man, and then seeing the dagger right there-going /into/ Sherlock-it had only made it more apparent and the panic... Sucking in a sharp breath, John focused on everything else but the situation at hand.
Stranger: "Good." Sherlock was quick to praise him, kissing the tears away with tender grace and affection. "There we go. That's it. Just calm down." He repeated with a hum, backing away slowly. "Just... Get some rest, John." Was all he could say, taking another step back. He needed to leave, and he wasn't sure for how long.
You: Each indulgent murmur was like a balm to a burn, soothing the aches away as if they never existed and now... Now John was simply exhausted and more level headed than before. Considering it an emotional roller coaster would be an understatement. He had left with the plans to never see Sherlock Holmes again, returned to kill the man, and then had broken down. All within the same bloody day. Scrubbing at his face, he listened to Sherlock, noting each step away. "Don't." He ordered tightly, body suddenly going tense as he realized what was going on. "Don't think that my lapse there is grounds for you to split because we have to talk. God help me, but we need to."
Stranger: Sherlock inhaled again and puffed out the breath just as quickly, glancing around the room with an expression akin to shame. "I- I can't stay here, John." Steadying himself, he continued. "I'm afraid." He wasn't fully confident that John wouldn't turn around and attempt to kill him again. "I just need a few... Moments. Plus, I don't want to hurt you."
You: It was an acceptable answer, but John was being selfish. "You were so fine with it before-so sure and certain that you would even kill yourself on my blade..." He intoned dryly, dropping his hands away to stare at the other man. "You can't leave, Sherlock. Not like this, because I know... I know if you leave, I won't see you again, and I thought I wanted that when I left."
Stranger: Sherlock blinked and moved away, wandering into the kitchen instead, pulling a blood bag out of a small compartment, usually reserved for experiments and locked. He ripped it open and began to drink, feeling it soothe his hunger and hide the stench of John's own blood.
You: John removed the cross and set it down before dragging his hands over his face. He didn't want to talk, nor did he want to acknowledge the situation whatsoever. Perhaps it was better that one of them left? It was a disaster all together and he was in no state to talk, but then he'd ruined those chances when he'd told Sherlock to stay. It was just... It was just that he'd /known/ he would never be able to find him if he left, but here, if Sherlock stayed in 221 B, he could always find him.
Stranger: After a while, the detective set the blood bag down, holding his head in his hands, hissing quietly. The tension in the air was thick-- horribly so, and he found it harder to acknowledge John. "Are you going to leave?" Came the familiar baritone.
You: Stilling in place, he regarded the tone before giving a bitter and humourless laugh. He didn't honestly know. So Sherlock's question was met with silence, hands rubbing down the front of his trousers in search of comfort. Finally, after a long moment, John answered. "No. Not unless you want me to."
Stranger: Sherlock furrowed his brow seriously and narrowed his eyes which glowed ever brighter. "And I presume you're not going to kill me, or rather endeavour to."
You: "You can take my weapons if you'd feel safer." He answered, already beginning to remove the protective trinkets to set down. "I won't try and kill you, Sherlock. Not today..."
Stranger: Sherlock laughed, albeit coldly. "Ah, but you will someday." He countered, shaking his head. "You simply won't stop, will you?" Racing into the living room, he loomed over the human, showing his fangs.
You: The movement didn't scare him, and simply because he was so used to it. Such a typical vampire tactic. Within a minute, John held a blade to Sherlock's throat, having not finished disarming. "I might try, but I doubt I'll ever succeed. You could fight me back though. You could dislodge each of my attacks."
Stranger: The vampire hissed but pressed down against the blade, challenging him, his eyes alight with loathing. "Why won't you be rid of me now, then? What's stopping you? You're enjoying the show too much?!"
You: "Because I don't really want to kill you, you berk! But if you come onto me with an act, if you make sudden movements, you /will/ get hurt!" He shot back without missing a beat, hand neither retreating or advancing the placement of the blade.
Stranger: Sherlock snarled his discomfort before leaning in towards John's neck, prompting him. "You're a stubborn fool." He hissed, opening his mouth slightly in preparation.
You: John reacted instantly, blade dropped as he turned his arm forward to press his forearm into Sherlock's throat. Without any hesitation, he knocked the vampire back, straddling him immediately after. "Don't."
Stranger: Sherlock squirmed beneath John's weight, snarling and clawing at him. "You still see me as a monster, don't you?" He chuckled. "Just a pet to look after until I turn sour, hm?"
You: He pushed down on Sherlock's hands, attempting to pin him. "No, I see you as a complete idiot that I'm still in love with, and I swear to God, Sherlock... If you don't drop the act, I /will/ leave."
Stranger: Sherlock hissed, before stilling, looking up at the human expectantly. He said nothing, feeling as though it was unnecessary.
Thank you, weapons-ofmass-seduction, for a lovely rp! Can't wait to continue <3
Stranger: Sherlock, you okay? I saw that you got stabbed by the guy bad there but i didn't have time to catch up with you. GL
You: Yes. I'm perfectly fine. -SH
Stranger: Are you sure? I swear i could see blood. Maybe i should come over just in case. I know John is away and all at the moment but if you are hurt you need help. GL
You: No, no. I'm fine. I know how to patch up a simple cut. It wasn't even a stab, but a mere scratch. -SH
Stranger: Sherlock, I have seen wounds over my years in the force and that did not look like a scratch. GL
Stranger: Are you sure you are okay? GL
You: Yes, Gregory. I'm /fine/. It's not as serious as it may have looked to you. -SH
Stranger: Alright alright, but if you need anything, you have to tell me okay? GL
You: I will. -SH
Stranger: Okay.. Oh i have some reports for you to pick up on another case. Should i drop them off to you? GL
You: If you must. -SH
Stranger: Alright, i will see you soon. GL
Stranger: Greg pocketed his phone as he just took a cab over to 221B, not bothered to drive over there for once. He was saw that the knife went straight into his side, he was bloody sure of it. Greg shook his head when they stopped, paying the cabbie before moving to enter the apartment, reaching the top of the stairs and into the living room with the flies under his arm. "Sherlock?"
You: Sherlock licked his lips and debated on what to do. His wound was already almost healed, but then Gregory was coming over... He couldn't knock it off as nothing. He grabbed a knife similar to the one the suspect had used and closed his eyes on a grimace as he stabbed himself. He twisted it inside of himself to make sure it didn't heal too quickly and cleaned everything up. By the time Greg made it, Sherlock was nursing his side and had forgone a teeshirt to show off the gauze and patch with a minimal amount of red blooming from the middle. "Living room, Lestrade." He answered, giving an irritated huff.
Stranger: Greg stepped into the room and smiled at Sherlock, waving the files at him. "Yeah i know you hate homework but you need to have a look at these and write some comments down for me-Shit, sherlock! I told you it looked like a stab." he explained as his eyes hit the gauze on his side. That amount of blood was not from a scratch. He placed the paper work on the coffee table and stepped closer to Sherlock with one of his hands out reached. "You might need stitches Sherlock, you moron. Let me see."
You: "I don't need stitches." He answered, giving a scoff as he moved to snatch up the papers, a wince contorting his features for a split second. He straightened and moved away from Gregory to sit down in his chair. "If writing information down will get you on your way, I see no problem with that." He spoke, pulling his robe over his chest and stomach to hide the gauze and wound. "The remaining blood is left from stitching it together myself, and you've seen my needle work, Lestrade. I am perfectly fine and there is no need for you to look at it." Especially because he could already feel the skin patching itself together.
Stranger: "Oh come on, i'm not that bad to have around" Greg frowned at the man, hating how he seemed not to trust him enough to have a look at the wound. He sighed and moved to sit on John's chair. "Yeah i have see your work but if could have missed something, some inflection." He explained, watching him carefully. Had john been here he would have shown John.. Greg shoved those thoughts away and just watched Sherlock, his eyes looking at where the wound was through the coat. "Just show me, you git."
You: Sherlock shook his head and removed a pen from behind himself where several other object rested. "No. And do not think about equating, John... He threatens me to show him by promising to ruin my experiments." He shot back, looking up at Gregory. "What your thinking is obvious, Gregory... I am perfectly fine and I cleaned the wound. It's disinfected and I will clean it again and re-bandage it tomorrow. There is no need to fret over it." He finalized, his expression telling that he wouldn't speak on the conversation any further.
Stranger: Greg narrowed his eyes slightly when he could basically read his thoughts. He hated how he could do that sometimes. "Well i could threaten to ban you for the next three cases." he pointed out, smirking a bit to himself before sighing. "Fine fine, whatever. But you are going to let me know how it's doing and you take it easy okay? No running around for the next few cases otherwise you'll make it worst." he explained, knowing how sherlock was stubborn about this but he could be just as stubborn sometimes.
You: "You wouldn't ban me; you need me." He shot back immediately, gaze scanning the documents before he began to add in information. "I shall tell you how my wound goes, how it is healing, and if I should need something. However, it is not as serious as you think it is and I highly doubt I'll aggravate it too much." He hummed, flipping through the pages before writing more information down. "There is no need for you to worry, Gregory. I am perfectly /fine/." He smiled, looking directly up at the DI as his lips stretched and curled at the corners. It was a mock grin, his typical one he gave to have someone drop the conversation.
Stranger: Greg couldn't help but to frown a bit more when he saw that smile. He knew that one anywhere, that this wasn't up for discussion anymore which always pissed him off but he didn't complain. "Fine." He stated, glaring at Sherlock before standing up. "Have you eaten dinner yet? Also, how long will john be away at his.. sister's house was it?" he asked curiously. John had told him about it but he couldn't remember for the life of him right now.
You: "Two weeks. She promised to get clean, which really... He should know better. She'll relapse three days after he leaves. She always does." He answered, gaze falling back to the papers so he could feel more in. "I have not eaten, nor am I hungry." Which was both truth and lie. He hadn't eaten and he was hungry. He just wasn't hungry for anything /human/ or cooked. He wanted blood, seeing as he was a vampire, but he couldn't really request that, now could he?
Stranger: "Yeah but he tries and that's what matters. He can't just give up on his sister." he explained, pocketing his hands in his coat as he watched Sherlock. He frowned the sherlock said he hadn't eaten which isn't unusual for him but he hated how Sherlock didn't eat anything. "Sherlock, you need to eat and defiantly now because you have an injury, you need to regain the blood you've loss." he explained. "I'll get you something. Have dinner with me okay?"
I don't actually know what happened, but I did have fun. So thank you stranger and I'm sorry for any mucking up!
Stranger: I'm so sorry, I don't have your money yet. I'll need another week. - JW
You: No? And what if I cannot give you another week? -SH
Stranger: Why couldn't you give me another week? With all due respect, you are a rich man. It's not like you need the money back right now, is it? - JW
You: You're right. I don't need the money. I'm merely curious as to what you would do if I didn't extend your time. -SH
Stranger: I... I don't know? I don't think there is a whole lot I could do, is there? - JW
You: Oh, that is where you are wrong, John. So very wrong. -SH
Stranger: I don't think I understand. What could a man like me possibly have besides money that a man like you could want? - JW
You: Blood. -SH
Stranger: Blood? - JW
Stranger: You want to sell my blood to the blood bank? I don't think they'll give you 6 000 for that. - JW
You: Oh no. I want your blood for myself. -SH
Stranger: With all due respect, why? What do you want to do with it? - JW
You: I won't be cloning you, so there's not worry there John. -SH
Stranger: Why, two of me would only make this wold a better place. But in all seriousness, what do you want to do with it? - JW
You: Use your brain, John. The answer shouldn't be hard to come by. -SH
Stranger: I'm sorry, Mister Holmes, I really don't know... wait a minute. Don't tell me you're one of them. - JW
You: /Finally/. -SH
Stranger: So, you want me to be your human juice box. - JW
You: If you wish to put it in such a vulgr manner, then yes. Just for a bit. -SH
Stranger: How long? - JW
You: Would a week be too much? Or perhaps until you're able to pay me back completely? -SH
Stranger: Well, uhm, couldn't I pay you back by blood? Would that be acceptable? - JW
You: How much money do still need to get to pay me back, John? -SH
Stranger: I believe around 6 000 Pounds. With interest. - JW
You: How long do you think you should be my 'human juice box' for then? -SH
Stranger: Three weeks maybe? - JW
You: Three weeks with blood every day? -SH
Stranger: Every day? I don't think that's safe or humanly possible. I only have seven liters in me. - JW
You: I don't drink very much, and should I drink from you every day, the hunger would lessen to where I only need just a drag and I'd be done. -SH
You: Secondly, should you accept the faintest bit of vampire blood, it would rejuvenate you immediately. -SH
Stranger: In that case, if you'd be willing to accept my blood instead of my money, yes, I'd like to do that. - JW
You: Good. Pack your things, I'll have a car collect you. -SH
Stranger: Right now? Oh, uhm, well, alright. Anything I should bring? - JW
You: Just whatever you wish to. You'll be staying with me for the duration of your pay. -SH
Stranger: Alright. That doesn't sound too bad. Your flat is a lot nicer than mine. Just one quick question: Does it hurt? The bite, I mean. - JW
You: It depends on the vampire. We have the choice to make it painful or not by the amount of venom we inject. Unfortunately, the more venom we inject, the more it serves as an aphrodisiac. The initial punctures does sting, but it's hardly noticeable. -SH
Stranger: Aphrodisiac? Meaning I'll get, well, aroused while you're feeding? - JW
You: Yes. -SH
Stranger: God, how awkward. Maybe I could just draw the blood out with a needle? - JW
You: No. I want it fresh and right from the source. I won't use a lot of the venom if that is what you prefer. -SH
You: The most you will feel is the prick and a tingling sensation. Likely a dull throb as well. -SH
Stranger: But it will hurt a lot more if you don't use a lot of venom, won't it? - JW
Stranger: I think I'd still take the awkwardness over the pain. - JW
You: No. Not necessarily. If I use a mild amount of the venom, it will block the pain out, but still affect you. As I said, the most you will feel is the prick, which no matter the amount I use you will feel, and a tingling sensation. When it is over, you'll fee a throb. -SH
Stranger: Oh, alright then. That sounds doable. - JW
You: Are you packed? -SH
Stranger: Yes, packed and ready. - JW
You: The car is waiting for you outside. -SH
Stranger: Alright. On my way. Thank you, by the way. - JW
You: For? -SH
Stranger: For not taking my toes? For agreeing to this, for trying to make me feel less awkward about the whole thing. That's all actually very nice. - JW
You: I had it planned from the moment you asked for the money, John. Don't think I'm kind. -SH
Stranger: ... what?! - JW
Stranger: Why on earth would you tell me this? - JW
Stranger: Tell your stupid cabbie to stop the bloody car, he's not listening to me. - JW
You: Calm down. I'm not going to butcher you. I didn't truly believe you would be able to ever pay me back, John. And you do have this delightful scent about you. -SH
Stranger: And you still gave me that money, expecting me to fail. You're a horrible man. Vampire. Whatever you prefer. - JW
You: I suppose I am. Do be realistic, John. The amount I gave you-did you truly believe you could get that all back to me? I suppose I am horrible, and I never, not one, said I was kind. -SH
Stranger: Of course I did, I still do. Just let me out of this stupid cab and I'll show you. I can absolutely still do it, not a problem at all. - JW
You: No. You need to be sensible, John. You never would have to come to me if you were so desperate. Nor would you have accepted the second offer if you were. -SH
Stranger: I don't need a vampire to tell me what I need to do! Let me out, deal's off, I'll find another way to pay you back. - JW
You: Be sensible, John. -SH
Stranger: Stop saying that! I am perfectly sensible!! - JW
You: I am not going to hurt you, John. -SH
Stranger: You say that now but you've obviously had the whole thing planned. Who knows what else you've got in store for me. - JW
You: Nothing but drinking your blood a bit every day for three weeks, to which you may leave without a backwards glance and are free from debt. -SH
You: If you are so worried about your never returning, tell the yard, send them documentation. -SH
Stranger: And after those three weeks you'll let me walk away with all my fingers and toes intact? - JW
You: Yes. -SH
You: Why would I need your fingers or toes? Don't be moronic. -SH
Stranger: Stop insinuating I am stupid. That's not a very nice thing to do. Also, I am there. - JW
You: I never said I was nice, now did I? The cabbie has permission to unlock the doors now. -SH
Stranger: You give your keys to your cabbie? Alright, that's very trusting. Shall I just come in then? - JW
You: Yes. Or run away. Whichever you choose. -SH
Stranger: Why would I run away now? That wouldn't make any sense anymore. - JW
You: Sense of security. If the fact that you do have a choice, John. -SH
You: Should you wish to back out, I will accept that. -SH
Stranger: Playing tricks on me again, Mister Holmes? There is no need, I will not run away. - JW
You: No. I'm not. And do not call me by Mister Holmes. Sherlock will do. -SH
Stranger: Sherlock? Alright then, Sherlock it is. - JW
You: Do not mind the elderly woman at the door. She is the land lady, adores idle chat and ruining my experiments. -SH
Stranger: She's lovely. Though why did she tell me to tell you to 'stop shooting the wall'? - JW
You: Nothing important. Do not mind her. -SH
Stranger: John made his way up the stairs, still a bit weary about the whole thing. He knocked twice before entering, suitcase in one hand, his cane on the other.
You: Sherlock set his phone down and settled further into the sofa with his hands steepled against his lips. "Come in, John." He called out loud enough for the man to hear. He was focusing on the ceiling, or rather beyond it as he was trying to solve the most recent cold case Lestrade had given him.
Stranger: "Evening, Mister... Sherlock", he gave him an unsure smile, looking around the clattered flat. "Where should I put my things?"
You: "Upstairs. There's a room upstairs." He spoke, not turning to look at John. "You may consider it as yours until you leave."
Stranger: "Really?" well, that was more than he had expected. John made his way up the stairs into a scarcely furnished but tidy room.
You: Sherlock didn't answer, just simply laid there and thought. Perhaps another patch would do? He was already on the second one...
Stranger: He came back down shortly after, still finding the vampire in the same position he had left him in. "Well, uhm", John cleared his throat.
You: "You have run of the flat. I do not care what you do with it, so long as you do not ruin my experiments nor disturb anything within my room. There is tea in the cupboard and a card on the counter for you to buy groceries." He spoke, choosing then to move. Sitting up, he focused his sharp cerulean blues on the doctor. "Tell me when you are ready for my to take your blood for tonight."
Stranger: John was a bit startled, suddenly being the sole center of attention those remarkable eyes. "Ah, well, now would be alright. If you'd want to." He made his way over to the sofa, gingerly sitting down next to the vampire.
You: Sherlock didn't move, not wanting to startle the blonde, but when offered the blood... His pupils dilated, blowing rather large to make the blues of his eyes form into a small sliver of color against black. "Do not make any sudden movements, John... I shouldn't have to tell you that, but you'll entice the idea of a chase-the need to dominate. I'll start with your wrist for today, rather than your neck."
Stranger: It was a bit like being told not to think of pink elephants. Of course John twitched to the side, one hand coming up into mid air to... he didn't even know what to do. Certainly, the mere idea of fighting a vampire off with nothing but blunt human nails was ridiculous.
You: Taking one of the human's arms, he moved it closer to him, tugging John forward. He moved the jumper up and ignored the fervent burn within his gums and the dry Saharan heat of his throat. He took several seconds to himself, blue gaze focusing on the exposed skin until he was ready to bring it to his lips. Fangs extended and Sherlock kissed over the blonde's pulse point before focusing his gaze on John. "No sudden movements."
Stranger: John almost nodded but thought better of it at the last second. No sudden movements, right. "Understood." He tried to relax his arm but it was difficult to be calm when something as lethal as a vampire was this disconcertingly close. Sherlock's lips against his skin were refreshingly cool.
You: He didn't remove his gaze from John's as he slowly bit into the flesh, knowing exactly how to move. He let his fangs rest there, allowing the venom to gradually seep into the blonde. He calculated the amount, forcing himself to focus so he didn't give John' to much. The bite stung, but it was steadily fading out. Finally, when he was sure John was ready, he began to suck, dragging the decadent ruby liquid into his mouth.
Stranger: It did hurt, of course it did, but it was nothing John couldn't bear. And after a few minutes, the pain actually lessened. He was even able to relax a little bit. It was even a bit intriguing, watching Sherlock feed off him. It felt strange but not in a bad way and the venom kicked in because all of a sudden, John felt pleasantly tingly.
You: Sherlock locked his gaze on John's cobalt blues, taking his time in drinking from the man.Only a few minutes more, just another minute, and he would be done. Sure enough, the vampire's mental alarm kicked off and he pulled away. Tongue lavishing the small bite marks with lustful affection as he licked them clean of any beading blood. Not droping John's arm, he licked his lips clean and then brought his own thumb to his lips. Biting down on it to nick the flesh, he let his own blood puddle from the small wound and held it to John's lips. "Drink."
Stranger: He was hesitant about taking the vampire's thump into his mouth but then remembered what Sherlock had said about the healing qualities of his blood and though John did not feel particularly bad he did not argue with the vampire. He opened his lips obediently, slowly suckling on Sherlock's thumb. When he first few drops of blood hit him, he moaned in surprise. This was the best thing he'd ever had. It made him feel strong and alert, heightening his senses. He sucked on it harder, hollowing his cheeks.
You: The brunette's breath hitched at the suckle, his eye lashes fluttering as if they meant to fall shut. He didn't allow it to happen. He wanted to watch. The wound would close in a few seconds, but he didn't warn John just so he could savor the feeling and the look. That /moan/ stirred something in his gut, making him wanted to lean forward and kiss the man. To simply press him close and ensure so much more. It was the high of feeding talking and when he was able to regain his composure, he slipped his thumb free from John's mouth. "You're free to do as you wish now."
Stranger: John actually leaned forward, trying to catch that thumb, chasing the delicious blood. When it became obvious that that wouldn't happen, a distressed little sound left his throat before he could catch it. He shut himself up, mortified by the whole ordeal. "Yes. Yes of course. That, uhm, wasn't actually too bad. It barely hurt."
You: Sherlock watched as John leaned forward and forced himself to look away. Within seconds, the man was standing and beginning to head to his bedroom. He was uncomfortably hard within his pyjma trousers and needed to relieve himself quickly. "Yes, well... I hope I didn't give you too much? Nothing more than a tingling sensation, correct?" He inquired, voice deep and mildly hoarse.
Stranger: "No, it's quite alrigh...", his voice hitched when his gaze fell on the vampire's trousers. Of course John had noticed how the vampire's voice had dropped even further, deep enough now to vibrate in his chest when he spoke but he had put it down to the feeding. What did he know about that in the first place? Nothing. He had no idea about the effect human blood had on a vampire. Though he was starting to get a grasp now. John himself was feeling rather hot under the collar and he would not have minded being bitten and having a little more of that delicious blood. he stood, taking a limping step towards the vampire. "Maybe I could... help?"
You: The inquiry stopped Sherlock from moving further away, his gaze focusing on the blonde. "Are you certain, John? You don't have to do anything. I can take care of it myself; do not feel obligated." He spoke, his voice rumbling from within his chest with his arousal, gaze searching the blonde doctor. "I will likely want to take more blood from you, as well as give you more of mine. It may become an addiction John, so do think carefully. I do not want to cause you any discomfort or have you become dependent on my blood..."
Stranger: "Maybe just for a bit then?" he proposed, reaching out to touch the vampire's shoulder. Sherlock was cool but firm under his fingers. It felt rather nice and john found himself wanting to touch more, touch naked skin and be touched by those long, elegant hands.
You: Licking his lips, Sherlock leaned into the touch and slowly turned to face John. "For a bit? Was is it you want then, John? Was it you want to do?" He questioned as he stepped closer to the human, chin tilting his head down to focus on the other. "How long is a bit? And how far will you go before you decide to stop?"
Stranger: "I don't know yet", all he knew was that he wanted more, much more and preferably now. "Let's see how far we get, shall we?" The vampire's smell was intoxicating and John found himself shuffling closer, leaning into it. It should have been forbidden for one man to smell that nice.
You: Sherlock crowded John then, a hand coming to wrap around the man's waist. "Mnnn... I suppose we could do that." He spoke, head dipping to kiss over the man neck as his other hand slipped beneath the jump to rub at the fabric left over to cover the man's skin. "Tell me what you want, John... Tell me and I'll give it to you."
Stranger: He did not have to think about that twice, just tilting his head to the side while both of his hands slipped into Sherlock's dark curls, trying to pull his head down to his throat. "Bite me", the doctor demanded. "Please, please bite me again."
You: He didn't have to be told again. Sherlock kissed over the exposed skin and allowed his fangs to elongate a second time. His grip on John tightened and he pulled the other man deeper into his chest, fangs piercing flesh and releasing a stronger influx of venom. Knowing the man was already prepared, he didn't waste any time drinking from him.
Stranger: The sound that left his throat upon feeling Sherlock's fangs in his neck was downright filthy. The venom hit him hard and fast, making his head spin. His fingers clutched at the vampire's shoulders, holding on as if for dear life. He heard himself mumble the other man's name, over and over again while pressing closer against him.
You: Pressing his hips to John's, Sherlock set a filthy slow pace of rubbing and rutting. He drank slowly, wanting to draw this out as long as possible before he had to pull away. The way the blonde doctor said his name made it nearly impossible to do so. He wanted so much more and with regret, he pulled away from John's neck and licked over the wound. Trembling fingers began to lift the doctor's jumper up and over his head, taking care with how he did it And then he bit his thumb again and pressed it to John's lips while working on the second shirt.
Stranger: He took the offered finger greedily, sucking on it with more force this time. He helped Sherlock peel him out of his close, wishing for the sensation of skin on skin. The vampire's blood made his nerves sing. Everything was so much clearer, he could taste, smell and /feel/ things John was pretty sure he had not been able to notice before. When he felt the flow of blood ebb away, John started biting at the small wound, wanting to keep it open, his human teeth scratching over Sherlock's skin.
You: "John..." He gasped, moving to nuzzle over the man's jaw. "There's no more." He spoke, his hands running down the doctor's naked flesh to the waist band of his trousers-
This was fun stranger! Thank you. May we rp again at another time!
Stranger: [Vamp!lock] Sherlock had been living with John for well over a year now. For that year, John hadn’t figured out that Sherlock was a vampire. Usually, Sherlock would sneak out at night and feed when he needed but due to a case, he hadn’t been able to feed in well over a week. Now, the smell of his flat mate was pushing him over the edge. One night, as soon as John got home, Sherlock pushed John against a wall, his eyes darkened and his fangs extended as the instinct of the hunt took over him. Right now, he could care less that John knew what he was, Sherlock just needed the blood.
You: John hadn't the slightest clue to just how off everything was. When he came back from the crummy date, he'd been ready to just crawl upstairs and sleep. He needed a shower first, anything to get the woman's horrid perfume off of him. "Sherlock?" He called out, only to be surprised by the body pressed to his. The cold door elicited a grunt from the man, his hands reaching out to grasp his attacker's forearms. "What the bloody hell is going on?" He exclaimed, lifting his eyes to the sight of the brunette over him. He lost the ability to breathe for the moment, his heart skipping a beat. "Sherlock? What are you doing..?"
Stranger: Sherlock let out a growl, moving so that John couldn't move from his grasp. The smell of the perfume was horrid but, Sherlock didn't care. The smell of the blood was worth it. He nuzzled into John's neck, searching for the best place to feed from, "Just relax, John. Please."
You: The man's words didn't stop him from wiggling or calming down. "No. I don't think I will. What the hell are you doing?" He questioned, trying to push the taller man away. "Let go, Sherlock, or I swear I'll drop you, and I won't be nice about it." He concluded, his grip tightening. What was going on with his flatmate?
Stranger: "You couldn't drop me if you tried, John. I'm stronger than you can imagine." he muttered, finding the best spot on John's neck, "If you relax, it'll hurt less for you."
You: "Sherlock, stop!" He ordered, hooking his leg around one of Sherlock's to press into the back of his knees, all while he pushed forcefully on the man's shoulder. "It won't hurt because you're not doing anything!"
Stranger: Sherlock let out another growl, shoving John so his head hit the door, "Relax! I don't need you fainting tonight!" he snapped.
You: John hissed at the pain, his head swimming at the harsh contact. "Fuck... Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?" He inhaled sharply, struggling even more.
Stranger: "I'm going to feed. It'll only hurt for a moment, I promise." he soothed, his fangs extending before he bit down on John's neck, holding him still so no real damage was done to him.
You: "Feed? Sher-" John's voice cut off at the sting of pain and fangs, his head falling back against the door. Oh God. It hurt. He tried to breathe, but his breath seemed stuck in his lungs, his nails digging into the man's biceps.
Stranger: Sherlock sighed as the first mouthful of blood pooled into his mouth. He swallowed before pulling another, his hands still holding onto John. He didn't care if John scratched him or anything. Feeding was the only thing on his mind
You: John was far too focused on simply holding on, the feeling of being sucked on and drained was... It was weird and he couldn't find words for it Closing his eyes, he let Sherlock do whatever it was he was doing. It wasn't as if he could stop the man.
Stranger: Sherlock took until he felt John begin to slump in his arms lightly. He pulled away, licking the wounds shut before leading John over to the couch to sit down, "Stay here. I'll get you some water."
You: The blonde felt the world haze around him, his whole body weak and tired. He didn't even notice he was being moved until he slumped against the couch, head falling back to rest against the cushions.
Stranger: Sherlock came back with water, sitting down next to John and easing John's head forward, "You need to drink this." he said softly, eyes full of concern as he held the glass up to John's lips.
You: He wasn't thirsty and he made that obvious by weakly pushing the glass from Sherlock's hand and turning his face away. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out.
Stranger: Sherlock sighed, "Get some rest, John. You need it right now." he said quietly, reaching over to get a blanket.
You: John reached forward and grasped Sherlock's wrist, his grip loose and weak. "No." He spoke, his voice airy and breathless.
Stranger: Sherlock furrowed his brow, looking at John, "No what? You need your rest. You'll feel better in the morning."
You: "No." He stated, lifting his head to look up at Sherlock. "What did you do to me...? What... What was that?"
Stranger: Sherlock sighed, "John, I'm what's know as a vampire. I had gone to long without feeding so, I needed blood.. you were my closest option. I am sorry, John."
You: He took in the words but didn't seem to fully comprehend them. Instead, he leaned forward and let his head rest against the taller man's shoulder. "'m tired..."
Stranger: "I know you are, John. That's why you need to rest. Please, get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning." he assured softly.
You: Nodding meekly, he closed his eyes and took deep steady breaths, not bothering to move from where he leaned against Sherlock.
Stranger: Sherlock remained where he was, reaching for a blanket and draping it over John. He knew John would be more mad in the morning but, for right now, Sherlock could offer as much comfort as he could.
You: John fell asleep against Sherlock in a matter of minutes, his whole body slumping against the detective.
Stranger: Sherlock sighed, not daring to move. He didn't want to make John. He had done this to the man so, he would sit here until John awoke.
You: Waking up slow, groggy, and warm, the blonde sucked in a deep shaky breath and tried to sit up. When he found that a struggle, he kept still, simply breathing and trying to remember what had happened.
Stranger: Sherlock looked down, "John, good, you're awake. How do you feel?"
You: "Sherlock?" He croaked, sucking in a deep breath. "Tired... I feel like shite."
They disconnected, which is a shame as I really was enjoying myself. Thank you for such a hot prompt, stranger! <3
Stranger: [[vamplock]] Sherlock snapped his hips forward with force, grinding them into his friend’s and relishing the small yelp he earned. He squeezed his hands, fingers intertwined with the doctors as he held them on either side of his head and pressed against the wall of an alley; the brick cold and slick with the night’s rain. His glacial eyes stared at John’s busted lip, blood pebbling on the surface of the soft pink flesh and he licked his lips as the smell of iron and something decidedly /John/ assaulted his nostrils. He inched forwards, flicking his tongue and tasting the blood off his friend’s bottom lip with a wicked grin, the glint of white, sharp fangs just peeking out of his mouth. The fleeing assailant being pushed to the back of Sherlock’s mind in the haze of his hunger, he was tired of dancing around this with his friend;of John not knowing while he practically starved. The smell of John was enough to drive any vampire mad with lust and hunger and Sherlock-as much as he loathed to admit it-was no exception.
You: The blonde was moving, chasing after the suspect and then he'd caught up. Sherlock was already there and that was when he'd gotten decked in the damn faced. Christ, the bloody thing had hurt. He reeled back and ignored the acrid taste of blood. He didn't have time to say or do anything else when he was pushed to the wall, a shadow falling over him with a hiss. "Shite, Sher-" He attempted to call out, surprised when he opened his eyes to see the detective as the one pressing him to the wall. His breath stuttered, his heart beat picking up with the sight of pure hunger in those glasz eyes. It didn't help that the man was beginning to grind against him, hitting at just the right spot to send him vocalizing his need. "Sher-Sherlock!" He began again, trying to push the man back with his hips, straining forward to get off the wall. It only seemed as if he were grinding right on back, which he was but he wasn't willing to admit it just yet. The way the detective licked his lip, the want to kiss rising up from the depths of forcefully deleted thoughts. The next time he spoke the brunette's name, it was with a moan and a sharp grind of his own hips.
Stranger: Sherlock practically hear John's heart thumping wildly in his chest, hear the blood rushing in his veins. He gave a breathy smile when his prey gave in, feeling the blond's hips rut against his own, he knew he had him. Sherlock's hands tightened in John's hands, spreading his arms out just a bit wider, exposing that delicious neck. He saw the movement under the skin, and his mouth watered. Not yet, he reminded himself. He trailed his tongue lightly across John's bottom lip, lapping at the crimson that welled there in tiny droplets before moving to his neck, inhaling deeply and his eye lids fluttered at the the scent. He drug his tongue across the skin, and lifted John off the ground, forcing him to wrap muscular legs around his slender waist and he pinned him there, continuing to grind and rut. He felt fully satisfied with the tiny noises he was eliciting from John, how he made his army doctor pant and squirm. The tip of one fang just barely pierced the skin of his neck, right over the carotid, and he suckled lightly at the small but steady stream of blood that trickled out, grinding more forcefully and moaning in the back of his throat. He wanted total submission, he wanted John to give himself up;to unravel him.
Stranger: [[sorry did you get that?]]
You: ((Yes, Sorry, I was just rereading it.))
Stranger: [[okay just making sure omegle didn't eat anything]]
You: John inhaled sharply and whimpered as Sherlock lavished his lips, making him want to kiss and taste as well. He tried to, but it seemed the brunette was much too eager. When the taller man moved to his neck to lap and suckle, he obliged by tipping his head to the side to grant more access. The rutting and friction was driving him mad, but he couldn't stop himself or disengage his hands to tear their clothes off. It was tortuous, brilliant, and teasing. "Sherlock..." He whined, trying to grasp more attention from the detective. He'd seemed to lose the man to lust, his legs wrapping around the waist when he was re-positioned. It brought them closer together and John realized his trousers were becoming far too tight with his straining erection. "Christ-Sherlock!" He exclaimed, wiggling into the thrusts and strokes of the man's hips. It only made everything worse and now.. Now Sherlock was sucking against his neck, likely leaving behind a hickey. He finally gave in a second time, knowing he simply had no chance. "Please, Sherlock... God, you're so bloody hot right now. Stop /teasing/ and do something. /Please/." He whined, voice breathless and throaty with his arousal. God, this was way hotter than it should be. Shagging ones flatmate against a filthy brick wall in a nasty alley. Anyone could walk in on them and that was what made it so damned /hot/.
Stranger: The detective loved this; could do this all damned night and his had his mind buzzing in a frenzy. He released one hand, shifting his legs so John wouldn't fall; re-adjusting his weight to his hips and slipped his cold fingers under John's jumper to press his palm flat against the squirming torso, scraping his nails with force up to his chest before digging them into his side at his hip. He let out a groan at John's desperate pleas and shameless moans. "John.." he breathed, before capturing the other's mouth in a searing kiss, far from calculated. He thrust his tongue inside, examining every inch and circling playfully around his flat mate's own tongue. It was messy and wet and dirty and /lovely./ He pulled back, glacial eyes staring into John's. "This.." he started, panting before giving a particularly long and rough drag of his hips against John's, feeling his arousal against the other's. "This may hurt, at first. But you'll love it.." kiss "I.." kiss "..promise." he was talking between kisses, doing everything he could to distract him from the initial few second of pain. He trailed kisses and nips all along the side of the soldier's jaw and back down to the small puncture wound before opening his mouth wide and sinking his fangs in, greedily sucking down mouth fulls of warm liquid iron and moaning in the back of his throat, rutting his hips frantically now.
You: He finally got what he wanted, a moan of delight and elation further parting his lips. "/Yes/," he whimpered letting his head fall back against the wall. Sherlock's fingers were biting cold, but it felt good. He arched his back, pressing into the contact as much as he could. The sharp scraping and scratching only made it better; he'd always gotten off on pain, had enjoyed the throbbing ache and distracting stings. It allowed his mind to blank for the moment, allowed him to simple /give in/. He didn't have to be in control and thank God Sherlock caught onto that. He kissed Sherlock back desperately, his mouth practically devouring the other man's as he savagely ravaged him. It was rough, filthy, and his lips stung when the man paused enough to speak. He didn't care if it hurt, or what the man was planning on doing as long as he simply did it. He nipped pointedly at Sherlock's lips, tugging on it when the man tried to move away. "Fuck, Sherlock... Just do it." He begged, legs tightening on the man hips as he slowly dragged his own hips up to tease and torture the man right back. He didn't have to say anymore when Sherlock returned to attacking his skin and then-then it happened. He didn't know what to exoect, but it certainly wasn't that. Maybe the man was going to remove their trousers and pants? No. He /bit/ him, breaking the skin, and John cried out in ecstasy, "Oh, /Christ/. Fuck, Sherlock, oh God." He gasped, head tilting more to the side to grant more access. It was rough, absurdly painful, but it felt so /damned/ good. The man was right-he always was but that wasn't important. "/More/." He groaned, bucking against Sherlock more desperately than before.
