beloved
synopsis. for centuries, theodore has despised tom — the ancient, merciless sire who cursed him with immortality. but maybe, maybe he is not that bad... after all, tom just graced him with a cute little sister. something theodore has always wanted.
pairing. vampire! theodore nott x vampire! reader
content/mdni. DUB-CON. FAUXCEST (you two are NOT related). SISCON. fem!reader, fledgling!reader, vampire!theo, obsessed!theo, possessive!theo, jealous!theo, manipulative!theo, selfish!theo, pervert!theo, unstable!theo (theo is not right in the head), blood play (a LOT of blood), forced feeding, mentions of gore, making out!, mentions of sire!tom, cowgirl, tit stimulation, biting, marking, dry-humping, teasing, dirty talk, degradation, pet name (darling, good girl, little fledgling, baby/little sis, big brother), raw sex, creampie
word count. 4.6k
a/n. i talked with yuna a while back about diabolik lovers and it sparked the need for vampire smut! one part is directly inspired by kou’s bite from season 2 (it was so hot for some reason haha)! please tell me your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!
it’s all dark. it’s dark and heavy and pushing your body down into the abyss. your head is a mess, warping around itself and jumping from one thought to another. memories? there were no memories. you couldn’t recall your name, nor what made you… well, you.
“you there?”
a masculine mischievous voice echoed in the blackened void, calling out to you and plucking you away from the mysterious darkness. the words did not carry you towards a bright and holy light though, like it usually happens.
no, the call only guided you into a redder domain, a bloodied-up mess with an intoxicating aroma misting the surroundings.
your eyes finally fluttered open, welcomed by wooden canopy posts and a lacey pink curtain. it all looked old, ancient, but the materials seemed to be taken care of well enough for them to still impress the mere eye.
“–awakened!”
that same voiced boomed again, this time ringing in your ears and not your head, making you wince from the irritating loudness. the tone was ecstatic and expecting, owed by someone who was utterly delighted by your conscious state.
you tried to raise up from the horizontal position you had on the bed, but you couldn’t. your whole body was tingling, like ants were climbing all over your skin and dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeat.
heartbeat?
why couldn’t you feel your heart thumping against your ribcage? why wasn’t the flow of the blood, increasing with your surging panic, forcing your heart to accelerate the pumping?
why was your heart still?
terror washed all over you, clawing at your stiff body and eating its way up to your eyes, the only part of your body you could actually control. and your eyes, oh, they were so frantic, moving around and scanning the little area your vision allowed to find help.
to find the source of the caring voice and ask for explanations.
above you, something... hovered?
no, hung.
your breath hitched — or it would have, if your lungs still worked the way they were supposed to. but instead of warm air, you only felt cold. cold, crisp stillness deep in your chest, your throat, your mouth. as if you had been carved from the purest ice.
a soft scritch resonated from above — was it claws on wood?
your agitated gaze jolted upwards, where the four canopy posts curved into the ceiling, framed graciously by fluttering lace. something was perched on one of the beams, clinging upside-down like a shadow with wings.
no, not a shadow.
a bat. a small and attentive creature, monitoring you with deep and crimson orbs. if it weren’t for the twitching in its wings, you’d have mistaken the little being for a weird decoration.
and then it fully moved, flying downwards towards you.
in its opulent fall, two sharp hands unfolded delicately from the mass of fur, gripping the wooden post like a little gargoyle. its body multiplied in size, constantly contorting into strange and eerie shapes. its red-glinting eyes, glossy and uniform, blinked once, slowly. then–
plop.
it dropped. right onto your chest.
a whole person now, onto your chest.
well, almost.
he didn’t stand on you, otherwise he would’ve crushed your weak body. he just landed there, knees braced on either side of your hips, big hands flat on your sternum, grinning at you like a mad man.
he looked... young. beautiful. terrible.
disheveled dark curls. skin like marble with the faintest tint of plum under the eyes. his clothes were old-fashioned and formal, but wrinkled and stained with something darker than wine. a man out of a painting.
or a nightmare.
“hi!” he chirped, voice thick with joy, gaze gleaming with intense interest. “you’re so much cuter awakened!”
his face was so close now. eyes shining. fangs peeking.
your lips parted involuntarily, trembling in horror, so overwhelmed by what was happening. yet you couldn’t speak up. couldn’t move away.
“oh– oh, don’t look at me like that.” he pouted, one sharp finger reaching up to tap your forehead. “all that fear is so delicious, but also very ungrateful of you.” he tapped again.
“i just got you fixed. you were almost done for. and now look!” he waved dramatically over you like he’d just unveiled a creation. his creation.
“my precious little sister.” he whispered reverently. “finally home.”
you blinked.
sister?
“yes, yes, i know…” he gasped, sitting upright with excitement — still perched on your chest like a gargoyle guarding its treasure. “it’s a lot to take in. dying always is.” he rolled his eyes back, somehow offended by the pedestal death takes in one’s life.
“but now you’re mine. forever. isn’t that sweet?”
“...your…sister?” you croaked, your voice sandpaper, repeating the words that permeated in your head.
“yes, you silly thing. you died. i helped you awaken. i made you better.” his head tilted, curls bouncing away from his devilishly red eyes. he leaned down further, nose brushing yours. “and now– now we’re siblings. you’re part of the vampire brood.”
he beamed, lips curling into a sinister smile. “i’ve always wanted a little sister.”
you tried to protest, to deny it all. but he only laughed — high, delighted, amused by your failed attempts at speaking.
“you’ll love it here. pink suits you.” he looked around fondly at the old lace, the delicate roses, the gorgeous patterns of the bed sheets. the room he chose specifically for you. “we’ll have so much fun.”
then, unannounced, he laid down on top of you like a weighted blanket, cheek pressed over your boobs, to your unmoving heart.
“hear that?” he whispered with a sigh.
of course you didn’t.
“there’s nothing. just silence.” he sighed again, dreamily, so enticed by the stillness of your heart. “music to my ears.”
and then he leaped forward and slightly kissed your collarbone, fangs grazing the edge of your throat, hitting that bruised spot that tom’s bite — the sire's — left behind. your body shook from the pain, but theodore paid no mind, pressing his face down even harder against your marked skin.
he inhaled like he was taking in the scent of a beloved perfume, lips brushing along the pulse that no longer beat beneath your skin. his hands, cold, elegant, slid up your arms as he purred lowly.
“you’re still so weak, poor thing. he turned you far too fast. typical tom — always greedy, always reckless.”
you winced as he dragged his nails over your collarbone, the angular tips barely nicking the skin, yet scratching enough to make you flinch. he cooed, sweet and sickly, as if he wasn’t the source of your distress.
“but don’t worry, darling. big brother theodore is here now. i’ll take care of everything.”
and then he sat up again, straddling your thighs with eerie grace, just like before. yet, his smile dropped — or rather, twisted. there was something sharper in it now, like he was planning do to something so terribly wonderful.
and that’s exactly what he was to do, as he brought one of his hands up between your bodies, flexing his fingers as if to admire them.
“i’m going to help you again, okay? you need strength. blood. my blood.”
before you could react — before your tongue could form the desperate what clawing its way up your throat — theodore bit into his own palm with a ferocity that made your stomach drop. the sound was wet, brutal, his fangs slicing through his flesh like butter. blood welled up instantly, thick and darkly red, almost shimmering in the candlelit room.
your eyes went wide. the scent hit you like a wave, drowning out any thoughts you had.
it was divine.
warm copper, spiced with something older — it clawed at your senses, curled around your throat like velvet, and seeped down to your belly in a desperate ache.
theodore’s grin returned, stained with red now, blood dripping down his jaw and neck.
“there it is.” he said, voice softer. “you feel it, don’t you? that hunger? it’s good. it means you’re really awakened now.”
you shook your head weakly, but your body betrayed you — your gaze, sparkling red, was locked on the blood running down his wrist; each drop hitting your collarbone like liquid gold and making you feral. your tongue darted out before you even realized it, catching one.
theodore’s pupils blew wide. his blood-slick mouth opened slightly, a shudder wrecking his body.
“good girl.”
he leaned closer, grabbing your chin with his uninjured hand, and tilting your face upwards.
“drink up, sis.”
then he forcefully pressed his bleeding palm against your mouth, fingers cradling the back of your skull. you tried to resist, but your lips opened, just barely — and that was all he needed. the blood hit your tongue and it was ecstasy. your spine arched against the bed, a strangled cry escaping as your entire body lit up with fire and cold all at once.
your fingers, discarding the paralyzing stillness from before, shoot upwards and clawed at his wrist now. not to push him away, but to pull him closer, to keep the connection.
you drank with no shame, possessed by animalistic need.
theodore moaned in pleasure, his cheek dusting a faint shade of red and matching with his crimson blood spotches. he leaned down, curling his body around yours, stained mouth dragging along your cheek as he whispered excited:
“mine now. my baby sister.”
and as you drank, as your limbs tingled with new strength, your memories still lost to the void, you no longer felt fear. not anymore.
•••
you fainted somewhere between your fifth swallow and his third moan.
the blood was too rich. aged like sin, like wine kept in a crypt. it filled you up too fast, crashing against your empty insides, each gulp pulling you deeper into a coma laced with euphoria and delirium. your hands, once desperate on his wrist, slid down limp. your mouth, wet and stained, slipped from his palm. eyes fluttered shut.
and the last thing you heard before the dark took you again was theodore humming.
•••
you woke up shortly after.
the first thing you noticed was warmth — or what mimicked it. the silk sheets, your cheek sunk into the old pillow, and something firm and unmoving behind you. something breathing slow… unnecessarily slow.
theodore.
he was curled against your back like a doting pet, still in his human form. one arm under your head, one draped lazily across your waist. his nose was tucked against your nape, close to your bite mark.
he was still. cold. his entire presence looming like a hungry predator.
the room was darker now, the candles burnt down to wicks. only a faint blue glow from some far-off moonlight spilled through the curtains of the bed.
you shifted slightly, and his arm tightened immediately.
"oh. you’re awake." he murmured, his voice sticky with satisfaction. "you fainted. so cute."
“…what happened to me?” you whispered.
theodore nosed against your throat, inhaling your delicious aroma. “you’re a vampire. your awakening was a success.”
your fingers curled into the sheets. your mouth was sticky, your chest felt hollow, but stronger too — frighteningly strong, like you could crush anything with your bare hands.
you reached up and touched your throat, the dried remnants of his blood crusted like a necklace along your collarbone.
“i drank from you…”
he chuckled darkly, hand now tracing lazy circles over your hip. “you did. and you’ll do it again, don’t worry. i’ll always feed you. i like it when you’re hungry.”
when you crave me.
you swallowed, trying to ignore the phantom taste still coating your tongue. “you said… tom turned me. who is that?”
the name made theo’s fingers freeze against you hip bone. but he resumed his motion immediately, slower now. pretending like you didn’t just deal him a blow by merely mentioning that name.
“tom is… our maker. he turned me. he also turned you.” theodore introduced him as briefly as possible, jumping from his description to the way the two of you were connected — something of more importance to him.
“but he abandoned you! i was the one that took care of you while you were unconscious.”
there it was, that possessiveness, that obsession blooming beautifully into rage. his sharp nails dug into your hip with unbearable harshness, piercing the flimsy material of your skirt. taking out some of his seemingly unjustified anger on you.
why were you talking about tom when he was here?
“you barely survived the awakening. my blood help you. me, not tom.”
theodore twisted you in the sheets to face him, to force you to look at him and only him. you couldn’t object, taken by surprise by his inhumane strength, ending up touching noses with him for a second time that day.
his face was closer than you expected, and also so full of dismay. his eyes were bloody red, but no longer filled with joy — they were imbued with darkness, with jealousy and desire. his brows were furrowed, his lips drawn into a thin line.
"why… why did you do it?"
yet that simple question of yours watered down his tantrum in an instant. the smile that now curled his lips wasn’t comforting. it was greedy. proud.
“because you were meant to survive. tom turns many. no one matters to him, not really.”
his eyes shone with something twisted. “but you do. to me. and that makes you my perfect little sister. the first in centuries.”
your throat tightened, slightly uncomfortable by theodore’s attitude towards you and this proclaimed title of sister.
“why can’t i remember anything?”
he tilted his head, as if the answer was obvious. “because he wiped you. tom doesn’t like attachments. especially from fledglings.” his hand reached up to your face and dropped on your cheek, carefully caressing the stained skin.
“your life from before doesn’t matter anyway! you’re with your brother now.” he smiled so wide it almost hurt to look at. “isn’t that great?”
you stared at him — unsure if you wanted to smile or cry. theo did not give you time to doubt his words; he leaned closer, brushing your hair back gently, brushing away any unnecessary thoughts you might have.
“i’ll give you new memories. i’ll teach you everything.”
“about being… like this?” your lip trembled, not exactly content with the way theodore forced his own plans upon your life, caging you in a future already built.
“about being one of us.” he instantly nuzzled against your cheek, chasing any sort of physical contact with you, whispering that dreaded pronoun once again. “about being mine.”
you shoved weakly at his chest, hoping to put some distance between the two of you. “theo–”
but he held onto you tighter. “don’t fight it. you’ll learn to accept this. you’ll have to. you already need blood — feel it, don’t you? that ache? that hunger that won’t ever go away now?”
your mouth went dry the moment he pointed out your newly-acquired bodily need. you did feel it: it was like a cold twist in your belly, raw and restless, begging to pierce skin and draw blood.
theo withdrew his face, his fingers cupping your cheek again. “you’ll come to me when it gets worse. you’ll crawl into my lap and ask so sweetly, like a good girl.”
he leaned forward and pecked your lips — mock-gentle, feather-like touch, like he wasn’t even there.
“tom may have turned you. but i’m the one who keeps you.”
but seeing your wide eyes and reluctant face, he knew...
that tiny kiss won’t do.
theodore’s lips hovered for a couple of seconds — then pressed again, longer this time, slotted fully against yours. he tilted your chin up to meet him, tongue flicking just barely against the seam of your lips, asking to be let in.
what started as a delicate brush of lips became fuller, wetter, hungrier.
he clawed at your body, clutching your form and manhandling you onto his lap in one swift motion. he didn’t give you time to protest, as he pushed into you again, catching your bottom lip between his own and suckling it gently, grazing the fragile skin with his fangs.
if it weren’t for the blood still drying on your mouth, it might have been a tender moment.
yet there was also nothing tender in the way he moaned when your full body weight dropped on his lap.
you squirmed, letting out a panicked noise, but his hand just cradled your jaw tighter, held your hips harder. keeping you in place, exactly where he wanted you.
“you taste like me now.” he whispered against your lips. “isn’t that perfect?”
you tried to shove him again. this wasn’t right — it wasn’t natural.
“you’re my… you said you were my brother…”
“and i am.” he cooed, like it was something to be proud of. “don’t you feel it? the bond? stronger than anything you had before?”
theo pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. his eyes glowed like fire, shifting with some unreadable emotion — lust, desperation, obsession. he dived back in instantly to make out with you with more fervor, chasing that blood on your skin to smother it further.
“so pretty. so mine.”
he murmured between kisses, licking into your mouth, letting your lips free every now and then to admire his diluted blood between your tongues.
your hands fisted harder at his shirt, asking to be freed. “stop…”
“stop?” he echoed, almost insulted, removing his lips from your own to snarl at you. “you want me to stop, baby sister?”
he punctuated the pet name by grinding his hips forward against yours — not obscene, not yet, but suggestive enough that you felt the new ache in your core bloom alongside the raw, gnawing hunger in your gut. it was hard to tell where the need for blood ended and the need for him began. your body was betraying you, heating up beneath him even as your mind screamed no.
you tried to push again, your hands restless against his torso. theo, fed up by your attics, caught your wrists and pinned them down with one hand, fingers curling sweetly around your fragile wrists.
“you don’t know what you need yet. you’re confused.” he said, fangs flashing as he leaned in again. “but i do. i know. you’re mine, and i’ll take care of you.”
he kissed you again, harder this time, tongue pushing into your mouth, claiming every corner, like you were a fruit to be devoured. and then, as you moaned into the kiss — unintentionally, humiliatingly — theo laughed.
“see? you do like it. you’re already getting better. aready getting wetter.”
your hips jerked against his by instinct, encouraged by his dirty words, rutting your pantie-clad pussy against his hard bulge.
“that’s it, darling.” he gasped in pleasure. “say it.” he breathed. “say you want me.”
your jaw trembled, and so did your thighs. from arousal, embarrassment, from fear.
“i– i don’t–”
“you do.” he interrupted, voice velvety against your shattering denial. “your body’s telling me. this–” he rocked his hips up into you, slowly, dragging his clothed cock along the curve of your soaked cunt. “–this isn’t confusion. it’s instinct. you ache for me. don’t lie to yourself.”
your protest curled like vines in your throat, fragile and unformed. you didn’t even realize you’d started moving against him on your own, not until you felt the thick press of theo’s palm cupping your ass, adjusting you, nudging your hips in slow, cruel thrusts against his lap.
“you don’t need to say it.” he whispered, voice purring against your ear. “your body already knows.”
his other hand slipped away from your wrists — certain you will no longer push him away, but not into your skirt. he wasn’t that merciful. instead, he opted to grope at your chest through the fabric of your blouse, thumb grazing over your nipple, watching the way it peaked instantly beneath your shirt.
that earned him a fresh whimper, your hips twitching forward harder, rutting again against the base of his cock.
heat spread from your stomach faster. filthier.
“just like that, baby sister.” his voice dropped lower, hunger and desire latched onto every word.
“show me how much you need it. rub that pretty pussy on me. i want to feel you through all these clothes like the desperate little fledgling that you are.”
you whined, shame crawling up your spine as you did as told, now keeping a steady rhythm in your grinding. just to relieve the pressure. just to soothe the ache. theo moaned out loud, eyes fluttering half-lidded with delight at your compliance.
“mmnh, fuck, look at you.” he tutted, massaging your tits more firmly now, rolling your nipples beneath his palm, breath catching every time your hips ground harsher. “my perfect little sister. so obedient. so soft.”
but he wasn’t satisfied. his head tilted, lips ghosting over your neck — and not just any spot. the bite. tom’s bite.
“that mark…” he growled, disgusted by seeing another man’s sign on you. “has to go.”
you took some distance, but it was too late; theo’s mouth opened, and his fangs sank directly into tom’s mark, breaking open the scabbed wound with a wet crunch. you screamed — pain or pleasure, you weren’t sure — as your whole body jolted.
his blood-laced saliva smeared over your neck as he sucked greedily, replacing tom’s signature with his own.
“you’re mine.” he snarled against your throat, mouth slick with your blood. “no more of him. you wear my mark now.”
your body convulsed on his lap, overstimulated and desperate, every nerve raw. you gasped his name — be it a protest or a prayer — and theo only chuckled, chest rumbling beneath your fingers.
“you’re doing so good, darling. keep riding. make a mess.”
and beneath the iron scent of blood and the heat of your shame, you did. you rutted forward helplessly, humiliated sobs caught in your throat; theo’s hand never leaving your breast, his fangs still nestled in your neck — making the bite deeper than the original.
blood dripped down your collarbone. slick soaked through your panties.
but it felt so good.
theodore pulled back from your neck with a wet sound, your blood streaking down his chin like lipstick. his eyes glowed, drugged with the taste of you. his lips, stained a rich crimson, curled into a cruel smirk.
“look at you.” he panted, voice syrupy and ruined. “so good for me. so eager to be ruined.”
he flexed his hands on your hips, guiding your rhythm, grinding your cunt against his cock with filthy precision. the friction was unbearable — soaked cotton dragging over his length, every shift teasing your clit raw. you sobbed once more, trembling as the heat coiled low in your belly.
“shh, baby sis.” theo mumbled, lifting his blood-slick mouth to yours. “let me taste you again.”
so he kissed you — full and vile, mouth wet with your own blood. his tongue pushed past your lips, hot and sweet and heavy, mingling copper with spit. it was grotesque. intimate. you whimpered into the kiss, your lips parting further willingly, your body melting in his grasp.
your blood smeared your chin where his mouth had trailed off; the rest… he swallowed down greedily.
“that’s it.” theo groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, hands gripping your ass beneath the skirt to guide you against him. “grind like a good girl.”
you whimpered — dizzy and helpless — as the pressure built again in your stomach, hunger and arousal knotting together, impossible to tell which one’s which. your thighs were shaking. your pussy soaked through the cotton, your hole begging for cock.
you needed more. needed him.
“please.” you gasped, voice hitching, eyes glassy as you rocked against him harder. “please, b– brother…”
“shhh.” he crooned, one hand rising to cup your face, smearing the blood across your cheek as he tilted your chin down. “open your mouth, darling.”
you obeyed without thinking.
he leaned up — but this time, he didn’t kiss you.
this time, he bared his throat.
a pale line of skin, shining with sweat and venom. pulsing with power. his blood called to you — hot and thick — and your fangs popped out before you could stop them. a strangled noise escaped your lips, half-hunger, half-fear.
“go on.” he purred. “bite your big brother.”
you did.
your fangs sank into him, and theo moaned like a sinner tasting heaven, hands tightening on your ass as you latched onto his neck and drank. his blood was intoxicating — tastier than the previous time you drank it. it seared down your throat like fire. it filled your belly like wine.
he rutted up into you as you fed, his cock finally snapping away from its confinements; the feeling of his naked cock dragging along your wet folds making you moan against his throat. and when you felt it, how it slipped beneath your panties, pushing against your cunt — hot, bare, and perfectly aligned.
you almost came on the spot.
“take it all, little sis.” he growled, hands guiding you down on his shaft with no further preparation.
you gasped around his neck as his cock breached you, thick and heavy. the stretch was brutal — made worse by how needy you were, by how your body welcomed him with sick, eager spasms. theo growled at the first squeeze, voice muffled into your shoulder as you sank down, inch by inch, until he was fully inside.
“fuck.” he snarled, one hand latching onto your back, scratching at your blouse. “tight little cunt… clenching around me like you’re starving for it.”
you were.
and he knew it.
you moved without waiting for his signal, riding him in messy, trembling thrusts, blood still dripping from your lips where they dragged across his throat. you lifted your face to kiss him again — and he met you halfway, mouth bloody and eager, smearing your own blood back onto your tongue.
the kiss was feral. wet and iron-slick. your tongue glued against his, fangs meeting fangs.
“mine.” he hissed between kisses, fucking up into you now at a violent pace, making the old bed creak beneath your combined weight. “mine forever, little sister.”
you sobbed into the kiss, your cunt milking him, your thighs quivering as your orgasm rose hot and humiliated through your gut. you didn’t want to come, but your body betrayed you.
“say it.” theo gasped. “say you’re mine.”
you cried against his lips, so overwhelmed by every bump of his cock against your cervix.
but you said it. loud and clear.
“y– yours. i’m yours, big brother.”
he captured your lips one last time and thrusted upwards hard, finally spilling inside you with a hissed curse, his cock twitching deep in your guts. thick spurts of cum shoot deep, kindly calming down that itchiness in your tummy.
you collapsed against him, shaking. breathless. your skin felt fever-hot where his cum leaked from your cunt, where his blood dried tacky on your lips, your chin, your chest. your thighs still trembled around his waist. your teeth still ached from the bite.
and theo– he held you.
one hand rubbed slow circles into your spine, as if comforting you after something tragic. the other cradled the back of your head, gently guiding your face to rest against his throat — right above the wound you’d made.
“you did so well.” he whispered. “my sweet, obedient girl.”
you didn’t answer. couldn’t. there was nothing left in your throat but the ghost of his kiss and the taste of his blood.
he kissed your hair.
and then, lower–
your temple.
your cheek.
your eyelid.
“my little sister.” he whispered. “mine forever.”
©dearmisshoney 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.
tags: @theodoresvalentine, @cafechichay, @lov3notts, @nottslove, @minidemont, @yuunarii-arii
