Warnings: Bickering, spanking, biting, consumption of blood, oral (M receiving), implication of dark themes (such as the buying/selling of humans for blood), reader goes undercover as Billy's 'pet'.
A/N: Overall, the themes are a little darker than I tend to write. I'll try my best to be as honest as possible with the warnings.
You shove him back, hand wrapping around his throat as if you could ever conceive of doing any real damage to him. His expression is blank, eyes pinned calmly on you.
"You filthy fucking bloodsucker." You hiss out through your teeth, contemplating the actions it would take to bury a stake into his heart.
"Keep talking. Makes me hard." He sneers.
You almost consider spitting in his face. He'd had the nerve to describe exactly how he'd buried his hand into Ethan's chest not a minute after you'd driven away from him last night.
"He was my friend." You grit out, hand tightening on the column of his throat, you reach for the dull knife on the coffee table beside you, bringing it up to his neck.
"Planning to tickle me with that?" He taunts as you shove him further back, until your full weight is propped onto the hand pressed around his neck, your thigh pressed right between his, forcing you to straddle his leg.
Unbelievably, you feel his hand grip your hips, holding you securely in place as if he wants you as close to him as possible.
"I can do some real damage with this." You warn, voice low and enraged, trailing the knife slowly down the column of his throat, "Don't you know dull knives hurt more?"
His lips part, his chest drops a little as if the breath in his lungs has escaped him.
"The only thing hurting me," he whispers, "Is that you're not naked."
You take the time to press the tip of the dull knife into his skin. It would take a lot more force to puncture his neck, but doing so meant you could shred his throat easily. You wonder if that would even slow him down.
Your mouth curls in disgust, pulling away from him and sliding off his body quickly. You ignore the little wet spot your cunt has left behind on his pants, still being dressed in just his shirt.
There’s a tense moment of silence, the smell of delicious chinese food in the air- he’d ordered it for you while you were asleep so that there would be food available for you not long after waking. You’d only been a few bites in when you’d asked about the last time he’d fed, and he’d revealed to you what you’d already known was true, that he’d left Ethan’s body in a dumpster, missing a heart.
“You’re sick.” You whisper, facing away from him. Ethan had been trained alongside you, saved your life just as much as you’d saved his, and Billy had killed him because he’d dared to touch you.
You feel Billy behind you now, not worrying to think about how fast he’d just moved.
You huff when you feel his hands glide over either side of your hips, fingers twitching as he holds you firm.
You try your hardest to hate it, to feel disgusted by his cold hands on you, but all you feel is flutters, in your chest, your stomach, and somewhere lower.
“From the minute I put my hands on you, I knew you were mine.” He says. You squeeze your eyes shut, mentally rejecting the words.
“I know you can feel it, the way I do when I’m not near you,” he continues, drawing closer till his voice is just in your ear, “Like there’s no air in the room, unless you’re here.”
“You’re deranged.” You gasp out, feeling his hands tighten on your hips.
“You call that boy your friend, but you forget that I saw the whole thing. You didn’t want him touching you, and he did anyway. Is that not a good enough reason to tear his heart out of his chest?”
“He touched me. Not you. It was my situation to handle.” You retort.
He’s silent for a long moment.
“You’re right. I let my anger get the best of me.”
“Thank you.”
He pulls you back suddenly, till you’re pressed against his front securely, his nose running gently against your neck, one of his hands rise to tug your shirt collar down, till his face is pressed to the scar of his bite on your shoulder.
“Don’t mishear me. I’m not saying I’m sorry. Believe it or not, but I’ve been in that position, and I guarantee you, that if it’s not you, it’s someone else.”
You feel him kiss your scar, tingles spreading over your body. You’re deep in your own thoughts, thinking about his words.
“You’ve been in that position?” You echo his words, mind fuzzy with his attention.
“Mhm,” He hums, open mouthed kisses roaming your neck, “Wasn’t as strong as you either. It’s why I’ll always stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves.”
You suck in a deep breath.
“But you’re a vampire.”
He spins you around, arms gripping your shoulder, eyebrows pulled together.
“You’re still thinking like that?” He utters in disbelief.
“Well, you haven’t really given me anything else to work with.”
He huffs, taking your hands in his and pulling you back to the couch.
“Okay, come, let me explain.”
You follow easily, and when you try to sit beside him, he eagerly pulls you into his lap. You huff, rolling your eyes as you try not to grind your wet centre against his thigh. He watches you, as if he can hear every thought.
“Believe it or not, vampires are very much like people. There are good, and there are bad.”
When you open your mouth to voice your opinion, he grabs the back of your head quickly, pulling you into him to lay a scalding kiss against your lips. His body might be cool to the touch, but he makes you sizzle anyway.
Heavens, he kisses like sin, plump lips owning whatever parts of yourself were still unclaimed, now his fully.
“Why don’t you let me finish, and then you can ask your questions.” He suggests, forehead pressed to yours.
A smarter side of you would argue, protesting his need to feed you what was most likely a lie.
You swallow, nodding your head hesitantly, feeling your body heat up with the memory of the things he'd done to you last night.
You look away from him, trying to get your thoughts together.
"We don't have to, I can always just lay you back right here and lick you to my heart's content."
You groan, clenching around nothing, acutely aware that being this close to him is making your head spin.
"Shut up and talk, Billy." You say with a pained hint in your voice.
He raises his eyebrows, his lips pulling into a slow grin. Thankfully he doesn't comment on your contrasting words.
"Okay, so as I was saying, from a moral perspective, vampires aren't that much different compared to humans. Realistically, if we killed someone every time we fed, more people would know about us."
"That's still a parasitic existence."
"The next time you interrupt I'm going to spank you."
You groan, clenching around nothing for a second time.
He explains it to you like you're a child, carefully arguing that the creatures of the night weren't all monsters, that they were a still budding society trying to figure out the logistics of existing.
"You sound like children." You interject.
Billy doesn't hesitate to draw his hand back and slap your thigh, watching you hiss in pain, that then quietly bleeds into pleasure, to your embarrassment.
"For most of human history, the number of vampires have only been in the hundreds. Now, we might have hit only a couple of thousand. The number of people that humans have killed vastly outweighs the number of vampires that exist and you still want to accuse us? Can't you see that the way you've been taught to think about us is flawed?"
You huff.
"Why is it so important that I believe what you say?" You ask, and it earns you another loud smack to the curve of your ass. You shut your eyes for a moment to fight the urge to rut your hips on his thigh.
"I'm trying to show you who the real monsters are. The ones that hide in the shadows and pull the strings, the ones that sell their own kind to the highest bidder of ours. These are people you should be hunting, little girl, not the fledglings that want to dance in clubs and feed from unsuspecting humans."
You open your eyes, blinking at him.
"You're saying there's something bigger at play?"
His hand comes down on your other asscheek. He grins when you glare at him.
"Yes. Your organisation trained you to kill the first vampire you see, making us all out to be monsters, but it's just not that simple. I can show the real monsters if you want, and let you-"
He cuts off, and after a second, he grins at you.
You look at him quizzically.
"You're so wet, I can feel it soaking through my jeans."
A low groan of annoyance leaves you, and you raise your hips, in an attempt to get off of him.
He’s not having it, gripping your hips firmly and pulling you back onto his thigh. When you struggle, his arms wrap around you, bringing you even closer, one hand settling low on your back, and then tugging your shirt up to grip your ass tightly. He holds you in place till you find that you are unable to even move an inch.
You study him intently as heat flushes through your system, eyes tracing the scars that line his face.
His eyes are dark, decisive, your eyes flit down to his lips, the sweet curve of them making your tongue feel heavy in your mouth. The shape of his beard urging you to rub yourself against him, the memory of his mouth between your thighs coming to mind.
You let out a slow breath.
“As I was saying, I can show you the real monsters,” He says softly, the air growing charged between you, “And let you decide what you want for yourself.”
You could barely remember why you were even fighting him, the magnetism of his form was too strong for you to resist.
“I’ll think about it.” You whisper, tilting your head to the side, and leaning into him slowly.
At the very last moment before your lips touch, you pause.
“Wait.” You whisper, pulling back.
You feel his hands tighten around you.
“What?” He bites out, lips parted so you can see just the smallest hint of his fangs.
You try to ignore his snippy attitude, and resist rolling your eyes lest it get you into more trouble.
“The thing you said… about choosing mates? What’s that about?”
You watch his lips part, to take a slow breath in.
“It’s something vampires do. Sort of, like an imprint- a voluntary imprint.”
You blink at him, horror washing through your body.
“You- imprinted on me… willingly?” You try to draw away from him, and he resists your movement, hand tightening on your bare ass subtly.
It brings you back to where you are, half naked on his lap.
“Yes.” He grits out, “When I first tasted you, I claimed you as mine.”
You fight him harder now, pushing against his chest.
“Claimed me? Don’t I get a choice?”
Billy huffs.
“You came up to me in that club- or don’t you remember?” He says, and you can see the clear anger in his features.
“You didn’t even know me!” You protest, finally getting enough leverage to wiggle out of his lap and to a stand on shaky legs.
He grits his teeth, tilting his head and watching you move away from him.
“The imprint might be voluntary, but it doesn’t work unless we’re compatible.”
“You’re sick.” You respond quickly, not even thinking.
He closes his eyes slowly, rolls his neck. You worry for a moment that his need for you has just expired.
Would he kill you? If he didn’t get what he wanted from you?
You swallow, eyeing him steadily.
He stands, walking past you without a second glance.
“Eat. I’ll take you hunting tonight.”
“Wh- what if I want to leave?” You ask softly.
He stops at the doorway, looks down before turning his head to the side. You study the scar on his cheek.
“They’ll kill you if they catch you, just to get to me. And if they hurt you, I’ll scatter their body parts across the state.”
You gulp at the imagery.
.
It was more irritating to you that he was giving you space.
He’d gone from keeping you in his arms, to not touching you at all and it made you seethe with all the hatred you had for him.
You hadn’t left- because you knew your organisation, and you knew Billy was right. They’d try to kill you the second they found you, if only to prove a point. Especially now that you knew for sure that Ethan was dead.
You pause while applying your mascara, sucking in a deep breath. Someone had dropped off a small duffel bag of supplies for you at the door, and Billy had slid it into your hands, telling you to get ready, you’d be going out in an hour.
He’s checking his watch when you emerge from the bathroom, dressed in jeans that fit you surprisingly well and a baby pink crop top.
His eyes scour your frame, face stoic as he makes his assessment.
“Ready?” He asks.
You only nod.
.
The heat of the club was familiar to you, an abundance of bodies so close together in one small space, moving under the soft neon lights.
You’re following his large frame, trying to keep an eye on the olive shirt wrapped around his shoulders, fighting each dirty thought about him that crosses your mind.
He’d looked good, to your annoyance, and you were wondering how long it would take for him to touch you again.
The answer was not very long at all, because when the crowd gets too dense, he reaches behind, extending a hand for you to take.
His hand is rough in yours, cool to the touch, undead and owning it and you feel your heartbeat kick up at the casual way his hand grips yours.
You didn’t like him, definitely not.
You weren’t too distracted by him to notice some of the other vampires in the club. You catch them in your peripheral vision, eyeing you both up, no doubt your scent packing a metaphorical punch to anyone with an advanced sense of smell.
"Easy baby," Billy whispers into your ear, fully knowing that anyone could be listening in on your conversation, his hand smoothing over your shoulder and down to the small of your back.
"We'll have our fun soon enough." He continues, his voice in your ear sending sharp waves of want down your spine.
If he notices your response to him, he doesn't show it, simply guiding you to an open seat at a secluded booth in the club.
He'd briefed you in the car on the way here, explaining that the objective was to be invited into the back rooms where the questionable conversations happened. All he’d been hoping for, was an idea of where the location for the next big meeting might be.
“The real shady conversations don’t happen in nightclubs, they happen in the back rooms of libraries or secluded five star restaurants that cater to our specific… diet.” Billy had explained.
That had made your stomach twist into knots at the idea that there really was something worse at play, made you want to do anything possible to put a dent in it.
He sits at the booth, and like you’d discussed in the car, you sit quietly beside him, body stirring with thoughts of what he’d said he’d do next.
“I’ll put you on my lap, I need them to think you’re my pretty pet. They’ll do anything to try to convince me to share you.”
When he pats his thigh, you do what you know he wants you to. You move slowly, crawling into his lap, straddling his hips.
It brings you face to face with him, and there’s something of a silent conversation going on between you.
Though his hands are on you, gripping your body tightly, and very inappropriately for anyone to see, there’s a distance to the expression on his face that stings.
You study his scars, his eyes closing when your noses brush.
You think about the imprint he’d confessed to. You wonder what it really meant, that maybe you weren’t at his mercy as much as you’d initially thought.
After a moment, you roll your hips against his, body igniting when you manage to feel hints of his thick erection through your layers of clothing.
He pins you with his red eyes.
It sends ripples of pleasure through you.
You didn’t know what you wanted, not even sure if it was him, with his sharp jawline and thick hair, and the scars that sit on his face, someone’s attempt at making him less beautiful gone awry.
All you knew, that in this moment, you were searching for a higher purpose, a reason for being in your current position that wasn’t just because of him. Because what kind of person would that make you? If you genuinely enjoyed being with him after the things he’s done?
After a long moment of looking into each other’s eyes, he takes a deep breath, gripping the back of your neck to bring you closer so that his lips brush your ear.
“I can smell how wet you are. Is that all for me?”
He’d know if you were lying anyway.
“Yes,” you whisper, “I need you.”
He hums, the sound goes down, all the way to your aching clit.
“If only you’d worn a skirt,” Billy continues, “I could have had my cock inside you from the minute we sat down.”
You don’t suppress your reaction, sighing in need, clenching hard around nothing.
Although this was just a performance, you realise it’s not so hard to actually act.
You pull back a little, so you can look down at his mouth. You clench again at the memory of sitting on his face.
His fingers tighten on the back of your neck, warning you that someone is approaching, your debauched act finally prompting someone to come near.
“Pardon me,” The feminine voice says- a vampire you realise- and you resist looking over at her, “but I couldn’t help but overhear your problem, and would like to extend an invitation to our basement lounge to you.”
Billy pauses, seeming to ponder her words, you attempt to ‘encourage’ him by leaning in to place kisses on the smooth column of his neck.
You feel his hand tighten on the back of your own neck imperceptibly.
“Private rooms?” He asks.
You both already know the answer before she says it.
“Not completely, but more private than this.” She says, no doubt pointing out the wide open area of the dancefloor where anyone could see the both of you.
“I’m not sure if I’m interested.” Billy responds, making sure he doesn’t look too eager to follow her.
You keep kissing his neck, running your tongue up to his earlobe before continuing your kisses, feeling the vibration as the woman slides in beside Billy.
You pause for a second, looking over at the woman, makeup done perfectly, brunette hair falling gracefully as she moves, before Billy turns your head away, a silent urge that as his pet, his conversation was none of your business.
He’d warned you about it before, that people would speak about you like you weren’t there and playing along was necessary. You could do that, you’d played hundreds of roles before when hunting, this was just another character.
The character you were playing right now, was an empty, aching little hole. Someone eager and willing to go along with anything her partner says as long as it made him happy and got her ache satiated at the end of the night. You’d pulled inspiration from your own life for this role.
“She smells so sweet.” The woman says, to Billy in a soft voice, “Surely you don’t want to enjoy her here out in the open where you can get interrupted.”
“And I’m sure that following you is going to have a price of its own.” Billy murmurs, and you squirm on his lap a little to give off an air of impatience.
Despite your aversion to him, you’re forced to admit to yourself that you enjoy sitting in his lap. This role of needy girl coming naturally to you, because you wanted, and you wanted and you wanted him to give.
“Honestly, I’d love a little taste.” The woman confesses.
“Hear that, pet?” Billy hums, fingers sliding into your hair to pull your head back so that your eyes meet his, “This one wants a taste. What do you think?”
You think she’d look nice with a stake buried in her chest.
You flutter your eyes, giving him the look of eager obedience.
“Whatever you want, sir.” You mumble.
Billy’s dark eyes give nothing away.
“Perhaps I can share a mouthful with you, but on my terms.” He says, and you smile as he continues to look into your eyes.
He’d also warned you that he might have to bite you at some point. He promised he wouldn’t let anyone else.
You trusted him. You could see it in his eyes, that maybe the idea of letting someone else touch you had been out of the question from the very start.
“We have a deal.” The woman says, standing easily, and waiting for Billy to follow.
You’re wobbly on your legs, too drunk on your own lust for him, the way he holds your hand, silently pulling you along.
You almost forget the real reason you were here, lost in wondering how he would take care of you later tonight if you’d let him.
On the way down, the woman introduces herself as Petra, Billy gives his name, and no one even mentions you. It makes you a little irritated, that you were being treated as that much of an object, but it didn’t really surprise you. They were vampires after all.
You don’t ask where you’re going, following easily, memorising every hallway and door, making a mental map in your head.
She guides you down a flight of stairs, so narrow that Billy’s shoulders brush the sides of either wall. At the bottom, is a short hallway that stops at an iron door.
Three sharp knocks, and the door cracks open.
You can feel the pulse of the music, emphasised by the lighting in the room, it’s like a dull thrumming, echoing the need inside of you, much slower and more erotic than whatever is playing in the club upstairs.
Inside is like a large cavern, the walls give off an impression of being somewhere underground, with rough rock walls and lighting fixtures jutting out.
The room is filled with secluded booths, sheer drapes to hide the bodies within, the low light accentuating the writhing figures of people dancing inside, no doubt putting on a show for their partners.
“Nice place.” Billy says, he doesn’t scan the area like you do, using senses beyond your comprehension to make his observations. He gives six squeezes to your hand- one per vampire in the room.
Six, if you had to fight your way out, things would be a little complicated.
Billy slides into the booth easily, his fingers still laced with yours, guiding you. When he sits, you settle beside him. Almost instantly, his hands are on your hips, pulling you onto his lap, making you straddle him.
You look down, feeling a little vulnerable in this position, arousal settling warmly in the spot between your legs.
“She smells divine,” Petra hums, interrupting your debauched thoughts, sitting in the booth at a respectful distance away, “You promised me a taste.” She reminds him.
“Of course.” Billy says, but when she inches toward you, he raises his hand to stop her from moving any closer.
His hand smooths over the top of your head, your eyelids fluttering at his attempt to calm you, he grips your chin gently, tilting your head to the side.
You close your eyes, your neck tingles, your mind preparing itself for the pain of it.
There’s no fear, just acceptance. You’re almost eager, from the last time he promised he’d bite you.
He takes a deep breath at the crook of your neck, hands wandering to your backside to keep you still.
You try to relax your body as much as possible, knowing that resistance made it hurt more.
His tongue glides over your neck, and then his fangs press against your skin.
Billy somehow manages to find a way to be gentle about it, he presses in fast, keeping steady as his fangs penetrate your neck.
Delight floods your system for a moment, sparking through your body from where his mouth is latched to your neck. You can’t help the small hum of surprise that leaves your throat. Surely, bites weren’t supposed to feel this good?
It pinches next, and then it stings. You close your eyes and breathe through it, experiencing the pain, letting it move through every cell of your body.
Then, the throbbing begins.
Your neck pulses, as if your body’s suddenly noticed that it’s been breached, and is trying to process the intrusion.
You whimper in pain when he raises his head, freeing his teeth from your skin, the most painful part in your opinion.
His mouth remains latched to your neck, you feel him take one big mouthful of your blood, and swallows. His grip tightens on your ass and you can only imagine what you taste like to him. He only pulls away after he takes a second mouthful.
You watch, peeking through your closed eyelids, as he beckons Petra closer, his fingers under her chin as he seals his mouth to hers.
Something ugly rears its head inside of you. An anger that wasn’t there before, burning as you watch their lips lock, as he shares your blood with her.
She moans into his mouth, pressing forward, and you watch, with blood trickling from your open wound, as she glides her tongue into his mouth.
All you can feel is hate. When he finally pulls away after what felt like hours of watching them kiss, she chases his mouth, but he braces one arm on her shoulder to stop her.
You couldn’t figure out why you were so upset, it wasn’t like… like you wanted him. Right?
“I need more.” She says, leaning in, now red eyes flitting to you, and to the blood dripping slowly from your neck.
Billy keeps her at bay, glancing at you for a moment.
“Pet,” he says easily, moving his hand off your ass and fishing in his pocket for a hankerchief to present to you, “Why don’t you put some pressure on that for me.” He inclines his head at your wound.
You nod, taking the soft white material, and pressing down to stop the bleeding.
“Please,” Petra begs again, “She’s delicious, you need to bring her to an auction we’re having next week. You have no idea how much she’s worth.”
His eyes are dark when he glances at you, seemingly deep in thought.
“I really could use some more blood, I can’t feed from her all the time.”
She jumps at Billy’s admittance.
“Exactly, you could get ten bodies with the amount of cash you’d get for her.”
When she leans in further, Billy’s hand drifts to wrap itself around her throat.
You can see that she’s too taken with your blood to focus properly, her eyes are glued to your neck despite the hold Billy has her in.
“Where is this auction?” Billy hums, with a tilt of his head. When she doesn’t immediately respond, trying to fight to keep the secret for as long as possible, you entice her by pulling the piece of fabric off your wound.
You’ve long since stopped bleeding, but the cloth has enough of your blood on it to loosen her lips easily.
She speaks the time and place in a very soft breath, that not even you can hear, all you can see from the corner of your eyes are her lips moving, and after a moment, Billy nods in understanding.
“I’ll think about it. Now leave. You promised me privacy and you’ve already had your taste.” He pushes her away, releasing the grip on her throat.
She catches herself as she falls back, and with a sour look, she backs off, leaving you alone with each other.
Did you have to kiss her? You immediately want to ask, but with the knowledge that anyone can hear your conversation, you can only roll your eyes at him, and lean away.
You know that technically, you’re supposed to be locked into an intimate embrace with him, but you can’t bear the thought of kissing him after watching him kiss someone else.
You needed to find a way to make this believable on your own terms, and you also didn’t want to actually fuck him either. You’d had enough of being vulnerable for the night.
Without thinking too much about it, you reach for the button on his jeans.
His hands reach to stop you, a silent exchange passing between you. He raises his eyebrows in a 'What are you doing?' type of way.
You both knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that you couldn’t very well just leave after getting the information you wanted, it would look too suspicious. Something had to be done, and this is what you’d decided on.
You bite down on your bottom lip, deep in thought, watching his eyes drift down to your mouth, and when you reach to undo his pants again, he doesn’t stop you.
You shuffle back, tugging at his jeans and working his boxers down until his cock is exposed to you.
He's almost at full mast, and his indecent exposure and the implications of that succeeds in bringing him to full hardness.
You feel something twist inside of you, a pleasure racing through your body at just the sight of him.
You wanted to do this, for yourself as much as for him.
Shuffling back, you keep your eyes on his, slipping easily onto your knees between his parted legs.
When your knees hit the ground, you watch his eyes flash red momentarily.
There’s nothing to be said between you. You can’t convey to him that you’re only doing this because any of the alternatives mean opening up to him, and that’s the last thing you feel like doing right now.
Right now, all you want to do is take from him.
So instead, you lean forward, and wrap your lips around the head of his cock.
His cock is so fucking good you have to fight the moans that rise so easily within you.
Your eyes flutter shut, leaning forward even more, tongue roaming over his tip.
You hear a sharp intake of breath, and you reward the sound by taking him deeper.
It feels so right to have him in your mouth, heavy against your tongue, the head of his cock is smooth, and you're intrigued by the sensation.
You reach for his hand, the one that's got a death grip on the soft cushion beside your head. He releases the couch on your insistence, and you encourage his hand to grip the back of your head.
He grunts out what you think is an expletive, and you pause, raising your head to look at him.
His eyes are dark, the scars on his face look downright devilish in the low light, and you want him to use you for his pleasure, so that you don’t have to feel bad about wanting.
You can tell he’s hesitant, for the very first time you see him pause in his pursuit of you, dark eyes unsure, that is, until you begin to lick gently at his tip.
Teasing him with small touches of your tongue, you watch the darkness grow and grow in his eyes, until he finally takes control- gripping the back of your head harshly.
Your mouth falls open at the sensation, obedient to whatever he wills. You move easily as he pulls your mouth back onto his cock.
He takes it slow at first, guiding the movement of your head up and down on his cock, pushing you down a little deeper each time.
You suck a little- because for all the control he has- you’re in charge here.
“That’s a good girl.” He hums lowly, guiding your head. You hum in response.
It feels good to give him this, feel him filling your mouth so rhythmically, your cunt weeping for the attention he gives your mouth.
You push farther than his hands guide, taking him to the back of your throat. Your body isn’t prepared for the intrusion, and resists, forcing you to pull away with a gasp.
Tears in your eyes, you look up at him in apology.
His lips are parted, licking at his bottom lip, he grips your hair harshly, and pulls your head up.
You grunt, scalp tingling for a moment as he pulls your body taut between his legs, leaning down until his lips are pressed to your ear.
“You have no fucking idea what I want to do to you, little girl.” He whispers in your ear.
You swallow, cunt squeezing around nothing.
You wanted to hate him.
You wanted him to use you however he wanted.
You don’t say anything, and when he pulls back to look at you, you make sure he can see the fire in your eyes.
All he does is smirk, and pull your head back down to his cock.
This time, he’s rougher with his motions, guiding your head faster, till your jaw begins to ache but you refuse to give up, wanting to taste his cum, the way he tasted your blood, to have a part of him, just like he had a part of you.
His hands tighten in your hair, a warning, you suck rhythmically, using your tongue to stroke the underside of his cock.
You hear his breath catch, before he’s pushing you down on his cock. You squeeze your eyes shut as he fills your mouth with salty cum, his cock pulsing against your tongue, and you do your best to take everything he has to give.
You don’t swallow immediately, pulling your head off of his cock, you look up at him, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out to show him the evidence of his release.
His eyes flash red as he watches you swallow his cum, appreciating the salty taste of him, before opening your mouth again to show him that it’s all gone.
You breathe deeply, gazing at each other for a long moment. His hand slips from the back of your head, cups your cheek gently.
“I can smell how wet you are. Let’s go home. The things I want to do to you I can’t do here.” Billy says softly, and you nod, getting out of his way so that he can stand and tuck his cock back into his pants.
When he’s done, he extends a hand to you, which you take easily, rising to a stand.
When he leans in to kiss you, you turn your head to the side to avoid his lips, still upset at seeing him kiss another.
He pulls away, a stony expression on his face as he guides you out of the secluded booth.
You grab the handkerchief with your blood on it, tucking it into your back pocket, making sure there’s no evidence of your blood left behind.
Billy nods at Petra on his way out of the room, and you keep your eyes fixed to the floor like the pet you’re supposed to be.
Billy Hargrove sinking his teeth into a girls neck at a house party, slurping the blood right out of her veins while she's high on the endorphins of his venom. Billy Hargrove sipping the life out of this girl as they sway to the music and his eyes glare into the back of Steve Harrington's head because all he wants is to be sucking that pretty boy dry.
“Are you bleedin’?” but it's for your monthly just crossed my mind
Ok but vampire or normal Billy bc like
Normal Billy would say it sympathetically, crawling over you as you lay in bed, his hands bracketing your shoulders and holding himself up as his brows furrow, “are you bleedin’?” When you nod, grimacing from the pain of cramps, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and moves down to lay his head on your lower belly. You told him once that pressure ebbed the pain, and he’d never forgotten; his other hand splays just a bit lower than his nose, thoroughly warming your belly. He’s rewarded with fingers in his hair when he murmurs, “m’ poor girl.”
Vampire Billy on the other hand would crawl into bed beside you, pulling you close to his chest and, just before he brings his lips to yours, his nostrils flare. His eyes brighten slightly, not in a very good way, and he leans away, “are you bleedin’?” He breathes. Before you can even open your mouth to say it’s about that time, so you’ve been expecting it, he inhales deeply as if to smell you, and nods firmly. “Y’are.” You assume he’ll pull away slightly, never turning away but keeping his touches featherlight and restrained. But he doesn’t, for the very first time he finds it in him to hold you tightly and resist whatever carnal hunger floods his senses. A strong palm rubs at your lower back, and though he knows he can’t risk a kiss or whiff of your neck, his nose brushes your cheek as resolution. You can feel the tense of his muscles, see the way his brows draw tightly. When you ask if he’s all right, tell him he can leave if it’s too much, he shakes his head determinedly. “Y’need me, I’ll stay. What kinda man would I be?” The dig at himself is soothed by your fingers brushing his jaw gently.
Flash likes to sit next to Cap in meetings bc he can hide behind his bulk and snack or chat
At least until one dry meeting, Cap yawns wide, revealing perly white, viciously sharp fangs and then goes back to leaning boredly against his palm like its nothing
Flash has also learnt not to touch the "juice packs" Cap has, the man swears it isn't blood but it sure as hell looks, smells and tastes like it
Cap is THE Sunshine Boi but also has the creepiest aesthetic without meaning to
When his hood is up, the shadows are impossibly deep, revealing piercing, predatory blue eyes
Everyone hears him bouncing around and talking but no one ever hears him walk or catches him when he sneaks away
Growling is not uncommon when he is frustrated
Occasionally daydreams on what various people's blood tastes like. His hungry face, idly watching you is not comforting
He can walk up walls. Is that a vampire thing? A guy who can fly thing? Superman could do it, but would he?
Cap and Billy can't eat Green Arrow's chili without some discomfort :(
He/They tell him it's because of allergies but they're not happy about it
If he eats something with bones in it, he will use his canines to crack them open and eat the bone marrow
Thinking about vampire billy having the primal urge to devour every inch of Stu. To have him forever with... Sigh..
I went a little off the rails with this, like you're talking about vampire Billy here, which is so powerful and so good, but also the human versions of these characters want to eat each other too. Sure, for the vampire it's a biological necessity but human Billy has the same drive.
Both vampire Billy and human Billy want to drink Stu's blood. They both want to bathe in it like that one scene in Hostel 2.
Although, to be specific about it I often write Billy as wanting to climb inside Stu. He wants to rip him open and dig through him, touch every organ and bury himself under the skin. Stu on the other hand wants to consume Billy, to eat him whole (and also eat his hole. I'm so sorry I actually couldn't stop myself from typing that).
What they have in common is that baseline desire to merge, to turn the other person into a part of yourself either by devouring them, incorporating their very molecules into your physical being, or by sewing yourself into them, wrapping them around you like the worlds most romantic coffin.
How about this: vampire reader finds Billy fatally injured and the only way to save him is to turn him. And she’s really stressed because she knows he wants to stay alive but she’s not sure he’d want to be a vampire. They’ve discussed it before but they never settled on anything for certain. So what if he’s unhappy with his transformation? Would he ever forgive her?
And what if it doesn’t happen at all? She’s never turned anyone before. So she has a long couple of days waiting to find out if Billy rises or stays dead, and if he’s glad she did it.
THIS GOT BURIED IN MY NOTIFS I AM SO SORRY ANON 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
But I love this so much AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH like she grapples with the reality of what it would be, of what his reaction would be and whether he'd be angry or not. Eternity is a long time to be upset.
But in the end she decides to change him because she couldn't bear him dying, and maybe she feels selfish about it, but she couldn't stand to live another day without Billy, not now that she's known such a love.
So she does, and she's so anxious about it and once he realizes what's happened she's holding her breath, prepared for the backlash. But instead he gathers her in his arms, kissing her over and over and telling her in between that he's so happy he gets to spend forever with her <3
Warnings: Although this chapter might not include it, this fic will include; Sexual situations, swearing, human slave, biting, blood, murder, obsessive thoughts, dub con, Stockholm syndrome, gaslighting.
A/N: Final chapter! We hope you've enjoyed this story as much as we did writing it! 😘❤️
The house was silent as you made your way back upstairs to the bedroom. The only sounds to comfort you were the wooden floor creaking under your bare feet and your sniffles. You went after him when he had left, when he ran away from you for the second time since he took you home months ago. Only this time it wasn't to save you from him, it was to save himself from you.
Your heart had dropped when you didn't find him anywhere, when you saw the empty driveway outside. You had cleaned up downstairs for him, leaving no trace of the evening ever happening, hoping it’d please him when he’d come back home, if he ever was coming back. The thought of him abandoning you was raw and excruciating.
You picked up the dress on the floor, your chest squeezing painfully at the fresh memory of you two dancing downstairs earlier, how wonderful it had felt, being in his arms that way. You put it away in the closet inside its fancy garment bag. You went through your bedtime routine on autopilot and hesitated, looking at the empty bed where he had left you. You could still see him looking back at you in horror, how you made him flee from his own bed, how you had been the one to fuck everthing up.
The pain was so deep, it made it hard to breathe. Anything would be better than this, this feeling, this hole inside you. You picked your pillow off the bed and walked to the closet without thinking, shutting the door behind you, locking yourself into it on purpose. You felt the usual panic kick in, the walls closing in on you from all sides. But you focused on it this time, wanting to feel anything else than your painful heartbreak. You put the pillow on the floor, picking one of his jackets in the dark to cover your shaking body now in a tight ball on the wooden floor.
You deserved this, the panic, the pain. He’d be pleased to find you here, punished without having to lift a finger. You broke down, unable to hold the panic at bay anymore. Your chest was racking with loud sobs and hyperventilated until your vision blurred, until you finally passed out and darkness took over.
By the time Billy got home, his head was still a jumbled mess. He'd come up with a solution to the problem but it didn't soothe him at all. When he stepped inside, he listened out for your heartbeat, feeling his body relax somewhat when he heard it. It was steady, you were asleep. He trudged up the stairs, his feet feeling heavy as he followed the sound of your heart. He wondered just how you reacted when he left. He couldn't imagine you'd been happy about it. When he got to his room, he frowned when he didn't see you in the bed like he expected. No, you weren't in bed. Because your heartbeat led him to the closet. He blinked at it, confused why you'd be asleep in there. You hated the closet, he'd used it as a torture chamber for you for months. He didn't understand why you'd voluntarily be in there.
He opened the door slowly, his frown deepening when he saw you curled up asleep on the floor. He could smell the salt still lingering on your cheeks from your tears. Apparently he'd made you cry by leaving the way he did. An odd and uncomfortable feeling hit his chest and it felt a lot like guilt. He loathed it. He crouched down in front of you, shaking your shoulder a little.
"Get up," he muttered, anger still boiling away inside of him from the god awful night he'd had. And now he was annoyed that you'd put yourself in the closet and he felt bad about it. He wasn't the one that put you in here yet he felt guilty anyway. And this was exactly why this wouldn't work anymore. Now he knew he felt something, it changed everything. He felt vile things like guilt over stupid shit and he didn't like it one bit. There was no way the situation could carry on as it had been. It was all ruined.
You looked up at his dark silhouette towering over you, the bedroom light behind him obscuring his features. You got up to your feet as he ordered you but you were unable to meet his eyes. He seemed furious at you still, agitated and it made you skittish. You wanted to say something to him but you couldn’t find your voice so you stayed silent, looking down and waited.
He blew out a sigh at how you were acting, his head a swirl of too many things to pinpoint. The alcohol also wasn't helping. He put his fingers under your chin and tilted your face up to his. He looked at you for a moment, hating how the uncomfortable feeling in his chest got worse.
"Why are you in the closet?" He asked softly, dark eyes boring into you.
You opened your mouth a few times, not sure how to answer him or what to tell him.
“I...I upset you. I made you leave your own bed and ruined the evening you had planned for us,” you said, swallowing thickly when you heard your voice wavering.
“I couldn’t bear the thought of failing you, of upsetting you. So, I punished myself, knowing very well that was all I deserved for it,” you added, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt nervously.
The uncomfortable feeling turned into something more painful and he frowned before wrapping his arms around you. One of his large hands cradled the back of your head to his chest as he breathed in your scent and let it wash over him.
"It's fine. Let's just… forget about it, alright?" He asked with a sigh. He was done talking about it, all it did was remind him of the shitty situation he'd been put in.
“Okay,” you whispered, feeling better at being in his arms again. Yet there was an odd feeling at the nape of your neck, something instinctual nagging at you. You ignored it and pressed yourself closer to his body, focusing on him instead.
He moved away, cupping your cheeks as his eyes scanned your face, memorising every inch of it. You really were the most beautiful person he'd ever laid his eyes on. He tried to ignore the dull ache in his chest as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lips lingering for a moment.
"C'mon," he said quietly, leading you out of the closet. He let your hand go once in the room and toed off his shoes as he started to undress. He felt exhausted. Confused, conflicted and that goddamn guilt was still eating at him. Like heavy chains wrapped tightly around him as they squeezed the life out of him.
You picked your pillow and moved into the bed, already naked since you didn't bother with clothes earlier. You looked at him as he undressed, your heart squeezing tightly at how handsome and perfect he was. You laid down on your side of the bed facing him and gave him a weak smile.
Once he was stripped down, he moved to climb into bed. He lay on his side facing you, tucking some of your hair behind your ear and letting his fingers trail down the side of your face.
"You're my favorite person, you know that?" He asked softly, allowing himself to be soft in the moment. It was confusing, being this angry yet feeling so gentle at the same time. He couldn't help it now he was here with you. He allowed himself to have a moment of raw honesty because it wasn't like it mattered now anyway.
You felt your heart stop and skip a beat, it made you gasp. His words washed over you, making you smile a little wider. You didn’t trust your voice so you nodded, scooting closer to him, needing to be in his arms, safe.
He moved your face to his as he kissed you, soft at first before he deepened it. He savored the taste of your lips against his. Kissing you was something he really enjoyed, he could do it for hours. He'd question why his chest was burning so fiercely but he knew why. He was trying desperately to ignore it but it felt like his unbeating heart was being ripped right out of his chest.
Your body moved with the kiss, one hand buried in his hair as you kissed him back with all the love you had for him. You broke the kiss, gasping for air at the intensity of it. You looked up into his dark eyes, tried to read his thoughts for a second before kissing him again languidly. You slid on top of him, your legs straddling him, your lips never leaving his.
He groaned at feeling the weight of your body on his and his hands grasped your hips tightly. He kissed you hungrily as his fingers bit into your hips, arching up at you greedily. His more primal instincts were kicking in and his body was responding to you eagerly.
You reached down between your legs to fist him, rubbing the head of his cock on your folds and making him moan softly. His moan was music to your ears, knowing you were the one causing them. You needed him and wanted him now, no teasing, just him. You moved his dick to your entrance and slid onto him, drinking in his dirty groan.
He loved how you felt all tight and wet around him like this. His hands wandered your body as he arched up into you, letting the pleasure make his mind go blissfully blank. It was relieving for the quiet after all the noise.
You rode him deep and slow, enjoying how he felt inside you and hit all the right spots. You leaned down, resting your head on his forehead, running your hand in his hair. It hurt, your heart was painfully reminding you of the earlier rejection but you ignored it. You had him now, that was all you wanted to focus on.
It felt way more intense than usual and he moaned against your lips as he soaked in how good it felt with you fucking yourself on his cock. One of his hands moved to the back of your neck, his body moving against yours.
"You're so perfect," he murmured with a moan, the pleasure making his head fuzzier than the alcohol did.
You gasped, riding him harder to make up for the painful stabbing at your chest, you turned your head, closing your eyes tightly. You weren’t gonna cry, he was here, he came back for you. Your lips crashed down to his, desire taking over your brain and body.
“Yours,” you said quickly between kisses and pants.
Your words hit him hard and he almost came right away. He growled, wrapping his arms around you before rolling you both over. He pushed deeper inside of you with a dirty moan, his body over yours as he kissed you desperately. The pleasure was getting higher and higher and he was aware his eyes had changed. He was firmly keeping his fangs away though as he kissed you. The beast inside of him was clawing to get out and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it off for too long, but he wanted to savor you first.
“Oh, Billy,” you moaned, feeling your climax build up fast at the new position. You couldn’t stop kissing him, your hands running all over his chest, his neck, his perfect face. You let a small whimper, feeling just on the edge of your orgasm, ready to fall apart any moment now.
He broke the kiss and trailed kisses down your cheek to your ear as he rut into you like an animal. He was struggling to hold back.
"Cum for me, kitten," he demanded roughly, his lips moving to your neck as he nipped and sucked on it. The sound of your fast heart beat and the feel of your pulse against his tongue had his mouth watering and his dick twitching inside of you.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one hand tugging at his hair as the world fell down around you. You came hard and loud, holding on to him like a lifeline. A single tear ran down your temple to hide in your hair at the pleasure.
Feeling you tighten around him like that had him moaning and gasping and it was hard for him to stop himself coming with you. He kissed his way back up to your ear and even though the pleasure was intense, the burning in his chest suddenly got worse.
"You deserve better than me, Y/N," he muttered, not giving you a chance to respond as he let his fang descend and he sunk them into your neck. The first sip of your blood tasted like heaven and he moaned, his pleasure increasing tenfold as he came instantly and spilled himself inside of you.
Your entire body tensed up, feeling the stabbing and burning pain of his fangs ripping their way into your neck. You tried pushing him off you even though you knew he wouldn’t budge an inch. All rational thoughts went out the window as the instinctual primal urge to flee kicked in.
“Billy? Billy! Stop. Billy!” You panicked, trying to snap him out of it.
A feral growl tore from his throat at you fighting back. He snatched your wrists, fangs not leaving your neck, as he pinned them roughly above your head using his vampire strength. Soft Billy was gone now, the beast was out and in full control. Your blood was like nothing he'd ever tasted before and he couldn't get enough of it. He drank from you greedily, his high from you mixing with the high from your blood. It was euphoric.
“Billy! Please stop, please stop! Don’t kill me, please,” you sobbed kicking and clawing at him. You let out a terrified scream, everything started to spin in slow motion as he slowly killed you. You used the last of your strength to bite him out of it, your dull teeth sinking in his shoulder so hard you tasted blood. You fought for your life, begged him to stop until your body failed you. You fell back onto the mattress, into the arms of death, whispering his name one last time.
He didn't notice, the pain not even registering to him as he savored every drop of your blood. There was no guilt now, no feelings at all. His animalistic nature was at its peak and he was more beast than man. He could hear your heartbeat getting weaker and weaker as he continued to drain the life right out of you. The moment your heart stopped, something snapped in him as he moved away with a gasp. He didn't feel the euphoria anymore as he looked down at your pale and lifeless face. He blinked at you slowly, the burning in his chest feeling like someone stuffed a grenade into his chest, letting it go off. He tried to tell himself this was the only option but he couldn't stop the feeling of utter devastation that hit him like a train. He'd killed you. You were gone. He'd never be able to hear your sweet voice again, to hear your laugh or see how your face would light up with wonder as he showed you something you'd never seen before. He'd never be able to hold you in his arms or kiss your lips. You were just gone. Just another victim like all the others.
He growled, feeling his eyes prick with tears as he jumped off the bed, running a hand through his hair as he glared at your dead body. He hated you for driving him to do this. He hated the grief that settled over him like a sheet of ice and how the pain seemed to ricochet through his entire body. He'd never regret killing anyone and his body count was too high to even remember. Yet right now as he looked at you, all he felt was regret and he was drowning in it. But it was better this way. This was the only option.
