Darkly Delicious Desires

"The very last one, and it's a fucking belter," he murmurs, sipping his coffee before resting his head against your shoulder. "Thanks for getting up early and watching it with me."

True, while he will be able to see sunrises from behind the safety of shadow glass panes, this is the very final one he will witness outside, for tonight, he is to be turned vampire once again. "Well, getting up early only exists if you've slept for longer than ten minutes."

Your grumble has him laughing, IV turning to kiss your head. "Ahh, just you wait until she's teething."

"Can you not?" you cry, frowning, lifting your very strong coffee to your lips. "At least then the squealing would be for a reason and not just because she's testing her decibels."

Amusement creeps in at the edges of his words. "Yeah, but between us, we manage." That's true enough, you suppose. Thank goodness for a family surrounding you who are all only too happy to pitch in. "She was a lamb for me the other morning. I made he a little pillow nest in my bed so she couldn't roll away, and I couldn't turn over and smush her in my sleep. Slept right through for four hours before she started up with the wailing again."

You love that at six months old, she's now getting used to her uncle IV and will calm down for him when he offers comfort. It isn't quite as instant as it is for you, II or III, but she's getting there. The same with Ves as well, who after sunrise has fully illuminated the misty morning, you go and find, entering his bedroom to the heartwarming sight of him sprawled in bed, with a naked baby asleep on his chest.

"You're risking her peeing on you," you speak quietly, Ves cracking an eye open with a smile.

"She's getting a bit of a rash on her bum, plus a slight temperature. I'm combating both with a little airing out and vampire cooling system implementation," he replies, his hand splayed across her back to keep her secured. "I think I might be good at this whole parenting lark, you know. This little one seems to like me, so let's hope the same can be said when we start to look into adoption."

You pull an inquiring face. "You still want that, then?"

"Of course," he scoffs softly, "what makes you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno," you shrug, reaching to idly trace the lean muscles of his forearm with your fingertip. "I assumed since you have IV back now, it might've lessened your desire for fatherhood?"

"Hmmm," he hums, thoughtful. "Initially yes, but then after spending time with this little one, I realised that I quite like it. The nurturing, the bonding, it's not dissimilar to the process of caring for a baby vampire, but in other ways completely stark in it's contrast." He smiles at Ivy when she makes a little snuffle, his eyes finding yours once more. "I think I'd quite like someone to call me dad one day."

Smiling, you crawl across the bed and give him a kiss, gently taking Ivy from his chest. "Here, let me relieve you of this little one, give you the freedom to not lie there like a statue."

His eyebrow rises, a deep chuckle sounding his throat. "Oh, my wife has intentions of me, hmm?"

You wink, his laughter escalating a little. "Maybe."

Once you have your baby comfortable and resting in her cot, you return to your vampire, those intentions he spoke of becoming very clear.

"You know, before I met you, I never thought that a cock could be a work of art," you purr softly, the air filled with the schlicking sound of your hand working along his shaft, all glistened with oil. "Yours definitely is, though. It's fucking beautiful, just like the rest of you."

Sitting astride his thighs, you watch intently, witnessing him hypnotised beyond the power of speech at the ministrations of your slippery hand, his mouth agape, fangs snapping out. God, if there isn't a sexier sight in the entire world than an aroused vampire. Your hand tightens, palm dragging along the thick length of him, pulsing as you stroke him viciously slowly.

His abs tense, your other hand sweeping over the rise and fall of those taut muscles, fingers pattering up his chest and stroking the curve of his neck. "Yeah, you love it when I have you like this, don't you, my beautiful vampire?"

A slow, wet slick of your thumb over the head of his cock has him reduced to shudders, his grunt vibrating against your hand as you hold his neck. "Mm."

Having him like this, such a dominant, powerful creature, entirely submitted to your sexual magic, will never cease in its magmatic thrill.

Mindless and wordless, he lies there in the cocoon of bliss you've weaved him within, cock bobbing in your grasp, his skin bursting into goosepimples as your hand moves from his throat, your nails dragging down over his chest. He virtually squirms beneath you, the bonfire of his lust cracking deep against his bones, his leg shifting up until it meets the warmth of your folds.

The simple back and forth elevation of his knee has those rigid muscles of his thigh sliding in a tight press against you, encouraging you to begin grinding on him. Heat crackles through you like a live current, a gasp fluttering from your mouth, Ves arching an eyebrow as he watches you begin to ride his thigh keenly. The friction of his cool skin brushing your clit has your mind melting with the fever of it, your hand working upon his cock a little faster, his eyes, bled red and glittering like garnets, never leaving yours.

His hands move to clasp your waist, shifting you astride his hips. "Need you, darling. Need to feel you, all warm and wet around my cock."

Your hunger is further roused by his words, steering him to where you trickle hot, a little cry welling in your throat as you slide down on him. He opens you up notch by notch, stretching your tender walls around the sheer heft of his shaft, and you collapse forward against his chest, drunk on the feeling of fullness already. He takes control then, hands bracketing your hips, slow, rhythmic punts of his hips sending him filling and emptying you with slow, lazy heat.

With his hips clapping softly into the cradle of yours, his mouth offers sumptuous kisses, hands sliding up and down your back and through your hair, his touch a reverent worship of your body. Your tummy cinches tight with the honeyed pleasure of it, sparks skittering down each of your limbs, your toes curling as you tighten your thighs against him.

You whimper at the heavy plunge of his cock, nails digging into his chest, Ves sucking your tongue before magmatic kisses consume your lips once more. He turns you then, not losing the tangency as you're shifted onto your back, your knees pressed up against your chest as the primal need to assail you rushes over your vampire like a red mist.

His hands spread out against the bends of your knees, forcing the breath from your lungs as he fucks himself into you so brutally, it feels like a tectonic shift. He grinds a spot that has you seeing stars, each sharp punch of his cock sending you into ascension, your wails spurring him on as he watches you winding tight.

"Mm, I've gotten you there quickly this morning, haven't I?" he pants, thumb moving to your clit, stroking and making your buck against him as you cry out. Your walls grip, fluttering around him strongly as it burns though you unchecked like a forest fire. He fucks you right through it, not slowing, watching intently as you drown in the riptide of your release.

"Always so beautiful when you fall apart for me." he whispers, thumb dragging your lower lip. You're beautiful for him another five times that morning before you both go and lie in the bath together, baby duties taken care of by your mum, who takes it upon herself to have a nice little nanny and Ivy day out in Bath.

"Cambodia," he suddenly speaks, pausing from running a soapy sponge over your back.

You turn, eyeing him curiously. "Pardon?"

Wetting the sponge to increase the lather, he continues his washing of your skin. "There are so many abandoned children in Cambodian orphanages with no loving parents. You did mention to me a while ago too that you'd love to visit the country, so perhaps this could be the primary purpose of our trip?"

Excitement begins to tingle in your chest, turning to kneel before him, gently grasping his wrist to halt his soaping of your body. "Are you serious? You sound like this is something you want to pursue quite quickly."

"Well, eventually," he replies, cocking his head a little. "You stand to be quite busy with a newborn once more in around seven months, so we can wait." You gape at him, and in the stretch of stunned silence, he speaks again. "I did wonder if you knew or not, being that your periods have yet to start again after Ivy's birth and your subsequent breastfeeding. But yes, you are. I don't think the others can quite pick up on it in the way my senses are capable of, but I can smell it, the shift in your hormones."

"What the…"

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I take it you didn't know, then?" Out of the bathtub you climb, bubbles and water sopping all over the floor, striding to the under sink cupboard and beginning to rifle. "Darling, are you alright?"

Brandishing a pregnancy test you had stashed in there from your time of trying to conceive before, you then move to the toilet. "Not that I don't doubt your nose, but I want to be sure."

It's morning, too, so the perfect time to attain a clear result. Peeing on the stick, you then place the cap on it, flushing the toilet, beginning to pace as you continue to drip all over the tiles. Ves exits the bath, drying off and wrapping you in a fresh towel before he dresses, while you take a deep breath and look down at the display upon the test in your hand.

Pregnant.

"Again?" you cry, happiness and a certain amount of shocked disbelief colliding within you. You should have realised it, of course, you should have. IV came back human meaning that of course, his fertility returned with it. It didn't take a genius to work that one out, but oh, you're so used to being with vampires and their definitive lack of living sperm.

"I have to spend another bloody summer fat and hot and miserable again??"

"Oh, fuck," he hums, eyes darting between you and the test within your grasp. "I have whacked the hornet's nest."

Depositing the towel on the floor, you grasp your bathrobe, yanking it from the door and striding out, Ves following as you descend the stairs, shouting out one name as you storm through the house.

"Matthew!!"

Ves winces. As does IV to hear his full born name yelled at a thousand decibels. "In here," he calls, "orange lounge."

You follow the sound of his voice, entering the room to find him relaxed upon the sofa, flinging the test at his face.

"Look what you did!" you fume, folding your arms. "I'm bloody pregnant again!!"

His eyes widen, scrambling to an upright position as he fumbles to grasp the test, staring down at it blankly for a few seconds. "But… I can't, I'm- oh fuck!" It hits him then, just as sharply as it did you when the realisation landed on you like a one tonne weight crashing down. "I can. I'm not fucking infertile any longer."

"No, you bloody well aren't!"

"Alright, fucking hell! Don't scream at me, sugar. You forgot, too!" he begins to laugh, standing up, looking down at the test again. "Bloody hell, we're having a kid! I want to be fucking excited as fuck about it, too, but I can't cos' you look like you're about to kill me!"

"Well, saves me the job later on," Ves mumbles behind you, and you turn to whack him in the chest, the ancient vampire grunting, trying not to laugh.

"Of course I'm happy about it, it's just such a shock because I wasn't expecting it and I'm too used to having sex with husbands who are sterile and I can't believe we both forgot that you came back the exact opposite of that and, and…"

IV reaches for your shoulders, seeking to soothe your spiral. "And breathe."

Inhaling deeply, you feel your lungs inflate, your pulse calming down as you hear Ves mutter that he's going to leave you both to it before vanishing, your composure fully grounding as you take in the beautiful, blue eyed stare before you.

"If you want me to hold off on being turned back again tonight in light of this, I will. Just say, alright?"

Shaking your head, you reach for him, hands resting either side of his neck. "No. You've wanted this since the resurrection. I know how you don't feel quite right as a human, so no. No waiting, we'll manage just fine you being vampire again and raising this baby. We did with Ivy before you returned, and we will again."

"Alright." His smile begins to grow then, resting his hands at your waist. "Can I be excited and deafen you now?"

Oh, his face. Alight with happiness doesn't quite describe that elation shimmering through him. "Do you want a countdown?"

He shrugs. "Eh, why not?"

"Okay," you chuckle. "Three, two, one. Go!"

"I'm gonna be a fucking dad!" he roars, lifting you from the ground and swinging you around in his arms as he laughs with utter joy. "Never thought this would happen, I'm so fucking excited! You've made me the happiest man alive!"

You burst into tears through your laughter, your shock and slight ire directed at him melting away into insignificance as you clasp on around him, stroking his hair, covering his face with kisses. "I love you so much, and I'm so relieved you're happy because in amongst my shock, I did wonder if this was something you'd want or not. We've never discussed it, obviously!"

Leaning back, he looks up at you, kissing your chest. "Sometimes, the greatest things that happen are the ones we ain't expecting."

If that isn't the absolute truth right there.

The happiness keeps on blooming, your love radiating, warming up to every corner of your vast homestead as you and IV bask in the unexpected news. The atmosphere house itself seems to cocoon you in a comforting embrace, as if it saw all along that it would soon be the sanctuary for another little one arriving within its secure walls.

You weren't expecting to be expecting again quite so soon after Ivy, but you truly are thrilled at the prospect of welcoming another baby into the family. Just as that family themselves are when the two remaining members awake later in the evening and share with you your happy news.

"It'll be so good for her to have a sibling close in age," II speaks, wrapping you in a hug. "And I'm glad it's with IV, too, because I would have needed a lot of convincing to go through all of that again."

"Fucking wimp," III chimes from across the kitchen, making a nuisance of himself as IV prepares your dinner. His last meal as a human, and likely, he anticipates, for the foreseeable as last time around in his vampirism, he didn't enjoy eating at all. "Call yourself a Viking king, yet you can't handle a little bit of electricity on your balls? Pfft."

II points, eyebrows rising. "Let's see you go and withstand it, then." His sibling immediately pulls a face that perfectly conveys his feelings there. "Yeah, didn't think so!"

"Nah, not for me. Well, if I wanted kids I'd grit my teeth through it, but I'm happy being an uncle." He then makes a move to you, taking Ivy. "Speaking of which, she needs a bath and I could happily have a soak, so two birds, one stone and all that."

Kissing him with thanks, you tell him you'll be up to get her ready for bed in about forty minutes before moving to assist IV with dinner prep. Of course, he does his usual thing of shooing you into the nearest seat, this time with a glass of fizzy water and lemons instead of wine, so you settle for talking to him while he rolls out the homemade pastry that will encase the filling of chicken and leek for the pie he's constructing.

"I'll miss this, you know, after tonight," you speak, sipping your drink as IV lifts the rolled out pastry and carefully places it atop the pie.

"Why?" he asks, beginning to trim away the excess. "I'll still cook for you when I've been turned again. I did before."

"Yeah," you acknowledge, humming softly. "But I'll likely be the only one eating, won't I?"

Shrugging, he finishes his trimming, beginning to press down the edges carefully. "We'll have to see, won't we? I might be different this time around, food could still appeal. Even if it don't, though, I'll still sit with you while you eat." He leans to you then, a soft kiss offered. "And you don't have to worry about me turning back into a moody bastard either. Not now I have all my shit sorted, plus, we're bonded, ain't we? I know that's been bothering you, but you've not wanted to say anything."

How well the man reads the inner workings of your mind. "Mm, yeah, yeah there was a bit of that going around in my head. I didn't want to say anything, though, because I know how much you're looking forward to being turned back again. Didn't want to spoil it."

He brushes flour from his hands onto a nearby towel, moving to wrap you in a hug. "You ain't spoiling anything, sugar. Don't be daft."

Looking up at him, your hands idly stroke at his shoulders. "I don't want to be there, when it happens." Gulping, you take a shaky breath. "I know you're coming back, but I can't watch you die twice."

He makes a soft noise of affection, his arms tightening around you. "You don't have to be, it isn't customary anyway. Me being turned again is something between me and Ves, no one else. II and III will bury us once it's done, and then I'll be back up above ground again tomorrow evening." He searches your eyes further, looking for the doubt creeping in there, the echoes of fear threatening to spill out on tears you're trying to hold back. "It'll be okay, love. It'll all be as it should again."

You believe him, and the gentle cadence of his reassurance acts as a balm to settle you, yet questions still linger. "Will you be different? I know you said you won't be all moody and brooding like before, but, I dunno. Will you?"

"A little, maybe, as my body adjusts to becoming vampire again," he tells you, hands moving to gently stroke your cheeks. "I know what to expect this time, though, so I doubt I'll have that wildness about me all new vampires do. I'll remember it, recognise what's happening to me and know how to act. Ain't nothing new, is it?"

Nodding, your hands roam his chest, enjoying the warmth of his skin that will soon return to the cool temperature you've become used to. You realise then that you'll miss that a little bit as well. Waking up in the same bed as a vampire, who has had your human heat source next to them all night and so therefore they are a little warmer to the touch, but to feel him living beneath your hands has been a very pleasant experience in the sensory.

You smile at him, your eyes adoring as ever. "I just want you to be happy and feel like yourself again."

"And I will." He kisses your forehead, lingering, resting his against yours. "Might be horny as fuck, though, being turned back again. You know what it's like, living with us. We're all only about five seconds away from shagging you at any given moment."

Oh yes, the sex drive of a vampire is indeed a hell of a thing. "Feel free to come and dive on me once you've gotten your vampiric bearings, so to speak."

He chuckles, low and dirty. "I'll remember that."

You both enjoy a few more kisses before his flawless domesticity continues, the pie put in the oven, potatoes washed, and other vegetables chopped and placed within the steamer. Just before you're set to eat, you head upstairs to get Ivy ready for bed, singing to her as you get a fresh nappy sorted, blowing raspberries on her adorable little tummy until she squeals with delight.

You then sit and give her a bottle, all curled up on III's lap in the massive rocking chair in the corner of the room, chatting quietly as you watch Ivy's eyes begin to grow heavy.

"She was so funny earlier when I was trying her with the pureed fruit," he speaks softly, beginning to shake beneath you with laughter. "Her face at the kiwi! I think it's too tart for her because fucking hell, the grimacing!"

Turning your head back, you kiss his defined jaw. "You better not have been feeding her lemon slices again, too!"

Despite your warning, it was a hysterical family moment when her father gave her a little piece of lemon to try, Ivy pulling the kind of faces that had the three vampires present howling with fang-popping laughter, especially when your daughter was reluctant to give up the lemon, despite her obvious dislike.

"Nah," he hums, arms tightening around you momentarily. "The last time will live rent free in my head forever, so I'm good!"

Once Ivy is all tucked in, you both head downstairs, him to his lounge and you to the kitchen to eat with IV. Once finished, you load the dishwasher, turning to him and draping your arms around his neck.

"That was lovely, thank you."

He leans to your forehead, pressing a kiss. "You're welcome. I'm gonna go and hang out in my own company for a bit, have some quiet time before I go to Ves. I know he'll want to spend some time with me, making sure I'm ready. So, I'll come give you a kiss before we go to the garden, alright?"

Thinking on it, you surmise that when it comes to your time being turned, you will likely seek the same. A little time alone with your humanity before you're turned into a creature of the night, into something that has to exert a lot of hard work in hanging onto that very humanity as it battles against its brand new nature. Well, likely not IV in this instance, but you know it'll be applicable for you when the time comes.

"Alright, darl. I'll be with III until then. Love you," you tell him, exchanging soft kisses.

He nuzzles you, smiling. "Love you more."

You depart for III's lounge, arriving and slumping down into the plush comfort of the sofa, the vampire himself pulling your legs across his lap, idly rubbing your feet while you both settle in for a few more episodes of the TV series you've been watching together.

"Oi." Your foot is grasped a little firmer, III giving it a shake. "You're nervous. Why?"

Of course, he knows. Your blood within his veins tells him that constantly, the link between your emotions and his a cord never severed. "Ahh, nothing that I haven't actually had my fears calmed over, but it's still lingering. IV being turned. It's messing with my head a bit, knowing he's going to die again. I know it's silly too because he's coming back, but yeah. It's still there."

"Not silly at all, wifey." He shifts up the sofa nearer to you, taking your hands in his. "Trauma, innit? You watched him die and even though he came back to us, it's all been kicked up in your brain again, hasn't it? Natural, I suppose." You can tell by his poise he doesn't quite understand your reservations, but that's a given, being that he's a vampire. Little human worries such as this have long left his reasoning.

Your fingers weave with his tighter, and he comfortingly squeezes them back as you sigh. "I know, I know. My brain is just having a little panic, is all."

"He'll be fine, you know he will. Still, if you want, I can take your mind off of it." He nods towards the fireplace then, a grin beginning to spread across his pretty mouth. "That rug needs a damned good christening."

Being that it only arrived three days ago, the beautiful, deep brown sheepskin rug laid before the hearth is indeed calling for you to receive the same. Before you've even had a chance to tell him yes in as many words, he moves you speedily, your back pressed against the softly brushed fleece beneath you. The way he stares down at your tugs at something deep, reminds you of the first time you were like this with him, III shedding his clothes and yours within the space of a few seconds, his cool body slotting between your legs as the roaring fire begins to warm his skin.

"Mmm, you provide the best distractions," you hum, kissing him with gently flickering heat, hands touring his pale, soft flesh. It's almost criminal, how flawless his skin is.

His tongue slips below your jaw, tracing in circles over your throat, leaving you burning. "Haven't even started yet, sweetheart."

He tastes your skin with keen exploration, fervent, cool licks gliding over your breasts, lowering to circle your navel, touring up your sides in turn. The thrum of it is heady, your tummy clenching with want, heart skipping on a beat when he bites into your inner thigh with a predatory growl, sucking a feed from you greedily.

Licking the crimson sheen from his lips, his eyes find yours, blue slowly replaced by the seeping vermilion, a low, rattling growl of arousal making your nerves flutter. His presses a kiss upon your hip, little flickers of his tongue descending, your muscles juddering when his mouth meets the needy heat of your sex.

You whimper softly, III parting your legs a little wider, his fingers stroking your folds before he uses his thumb to pull your clit hood back. "Mm, there she is." he whispers, a long swipe gilding your bud in cool tingles with firm, wet licks. Your nails graze his arms, your hips already beginning to slowly undulate against his mouth, each keen slick of his tongue delivered with the kind of precision that stirs you strongly, glimmers skittering through your belly, like a whirlpool beginning to circle deep in your groin.

He draws dirty cusses from your sweet lips with each keen lap, stubble prickling at your soft flesh, his lips sealing around your clit and pulsing, the pressure gentle. It evokes a flush, your walls tingling from it, his cheeks hollowing as he begins to suck at you, your slick swallowed greedily as he devours you. It’s too much, but equally nowhere near enough, his fingers pushing into you, clever and precise as he seeks out exactly where within the wet plush of your walls you want to feel him press, smiling against you when you cry out.

“Right there, hmm?”

“Oh fuck, yes!”

He laughs, his voice deepened even more than usual by lust, hooking his fingers over and beginning to rake them against you, pressing hard, looking up at you over the rise of your curves and watching as you lose control for him.

“Fuck, you’re absolutely soaking.” he groans, his fingers sodden with your dew, tongue furiously beating over your swollen clit in time with his fingers, two becoming three, opening you up with his exploration, circling them around and around, the tips still pressing against the spot that has you crying out.

A final few unnaturally rapid licks and circles does it, and he has you coming apart messily against him, a flush pinking your chest as you crest with a feral mewl. The taste of yourself on his mouth is sinfully erotic when he emerges, kissing you while pressing the tip of his hardness against your entrance, slowly spreading you around him as he fills you, your mouth falling open in exclamation of how good he feels.

He’s thick and hot inside you, dragging your walls, making you feel sparks, your insides lighting up against the friction of his cock. Your body arches, like a bridge over a rushing river, III setting his teeth against your breasts. He nips and sucks at your nipples as his cock glides into you seamlessly, his hands smoothing down the elegant curve of your back.

He pants against you, predatory hunger unleashed, claiming your mouth again with hungry kisses, his fingers gripping at your waist as he rolls his hips firmly into you, driving his cock against your very depths, forcing little cries of elation from your throat.

“God, you’re so fucking big,” you breathe, reaching between you to feel him stretching you, spearing your slick, so incredibly wet for him.

“You'll never stop being pleased about that, will you? Me and my big ole' dick,” he chuckles, sucking the furled peak of your nipple.

"Mmm," you murmur, nails dragging through his hair, jolting when he moves to the other nipple and bites down. "Nope. Not when it always feels this fucking good."

Moving his mouth back to yours, his kisses smoulder, burning slow, fucking himself into you with a few sharper thrusts that have you whimpering against his tongue, returning to slipping back and forth languidly, so sedately you feel utterly mindless. He's teasing you, and you know it, having him laughing when you mouth 'fuck you' at his entertained expression.

"Yeah." Lifting up on his elbows, his gaze flits down to where you're joined. "That's exactly what's happening right now. And I'm in no rush to hurry it either." Your face persists. "Stop scowling at me."

Eventually he has you laughing softly, arms entwining around one another, whispered words of love exchanged as the rocking of his hips sends him into you deep, plugging you fully. You ache around him every time he carves you out, back arching, his skin hot against yours from the warmth of the roaring fire, moving in fevered sync together.

Each slow, hard plunge has you softly gasping, his hand cupping the side of your face as he lifts your other leg to rest upon his shoulder, inching in deeper, the utter bliss of it having your eyes rolled back in your head. Heat pulses through you, making you clench upon him, that soaking clasp pulling a deep growl from his chest as he fucks into you with added speed, finally giving exactly what you need of him.

Oh, what this vampire doesn't know about sex truly isn't worth understanding.

His thrusts slap into you, the lewd, wet sound of it echoing around the room, and he had you wailing, hand moving to clasp your jaw, holding you steady against the primal onslaught of his cock. With his razor sharp hip bones smacking hard against the back of your thighs, he looses himself, moans almost helpless as you feel his cock kick against your summit, coming deep in the hug of your cunt.

The pleasure of it, feeling him come apart in you has the ecstasy stacking up, winding tight as you arch, the addition of his thumb rubbing at your clit as his body moves like a jackhammer sending you there. You bloom fully, the light of your unravelling gleaming over his horizon, burning right down to your bones and leaving you smouldering.

"Fuck, that felt so fucking good," he murmurs, lowering your leg, sprinkling kisses over your breasts as his chest heaves, lithe muscles quivering against the raining patter of your fingernails. "Ain't done, though. Nah. Gonna give my beautiful wife some damned thorough attention."

He pulls from you, but you're unwilling to let him away from you, sitting up, your hand snaking into his hair, tugging, your teeth sharp at his neck as you moan with want, hand curling around his cock. His entire body lurches, your hand tightening around the cum-soaked length of his shaft, twisting and squeezing, making his eyes flutter as you lay another bite at the side of his throat.

"Harder." Your teeth sink in at his demand, and he growls an inhuman rumble that sends sparks glimmering through your tummy, his fangs snapping out. "Fuck yeah, that feels amazing."

You paw at each other, your arousal shimmering bright, III grasping your neck and pressing his mouth to yours, your tongue and lips scratched to bleed by sharp teeth, those big, beautiful fangs piercing your neck. He drinks of you greedily, sealing your wound before you move to bring your mouth to the mess of his cock, suckling him deep, his hands fisting into your hair.

"Fuck… fuck," he groans, your tongue teasing the head of him, that rigidity bobbing against your lips before you swallow him back once more. "You fucking ruin me, love."

"Mmm," you purr around the thick of him, lips gliding over his cock in little pulses. "Sweet ruin, I like to think."

"Yeah," he breathes, pushing you back before grasping your hips and lifting you right up. "The fucking sweetest I've ever known." He places your legs over his shoulders, your body braced against his, arms tightening on your thighs to hold you steady as his mouth latches around your puffy sex, eating you greedily. "Here especially, though. Can't ever get enough of this pretty little cunt."

Being held like that in a shoulder stand has the blood rushing to your head, and you're foggy enough with lust, your heart thrumming wildly, his tongue sending pleasure knifing through you as he beats it rapidly over your clit. God, when he pledged to take your mind off the impending turning of IV, he truly wasn't lying. He has you weaved into his web of dirty, erotic bliss so tightly it would take more than a mere sharpened blade to cut you free of it.

Not that you want to be, though, held fast and at the mercy of a unnaturally rapidly moving tongue flickering back and forth upon your swollen, twitching bud, his mouth sealing around it and sucking until you're virtually crying with the pleasure of it. It begins to singe over your nerves, heat suffusing, III working you faster and faster until your release is sucked into his mouth, your nails raking down his arms as you pant and grit.

With your release rushing over his tongue, he gentles his licks, slow trawls making you twitch. His eyes are a flare of burning crimson, shifting back as he sets you down, turning you over onto your front. His knee slips between your thighs, widens them just enough to slot his cock against your opening, teasing you with the fat press of him opening your burning little hole before steadily notching fully into you once more.

Closing your legs, the action makes the penetration tighter, the friction leaving you breathless, glimmers skittering over every nerve for you both. He's burning inside of you, cock heated from your walls, the slapping noise of his body smacking against yours filling the air, III gripping your shoulder with one hand, the other clutching the round of your bum before giving it a few rapid, hard smacks.

Your mouth drops open on a silent cry when he adds the kind of speed no mortal could ever dream of reaching, eyes virtually swivelling in their sockets as your hands reach to grip the edge of the rug. The pop of his fangs precedes a bite to your shoulder, the clenched grip sending burning pain streaking through you, meeting in the middle of your pleasure, reducing your mind to static and syrupy drips.

He's gone completely to it, pounding you so hard, only the grip at your shoulder prevents you from being shunted across the floor. When he's like this, you thrive, giving in to his nature entirely, letting the beast ruin you beyond comprehension.

It's at these times you're reminded the most that the being inside you might be mostly amiable, but this part of him is far removed from human. It would be frightening, too, if it didn't arouse you so much.

A growl echoes his throat, all molten gravel, another bite placed upon your opposite shoulder. His hand weaves into the roots of your hair, applying tight pressure, tilting your head back as his body flattens to yours, III nuzzling your neck before his teeth sink in. Your centre clenches on him tight, and he fucks himself into you harder to fight against that clasp, feeling himself unravelling rapidly.

You're a mess beneath him, sparks rolling up your spine, threatening to catch on your edges and ignite into full flame. Crying out, your body stiffens, his thrusts delivered brutally, stars lighting up and exploding behind your closed eyes. The nirvana of it spikes, scalding, his body wracked, sent to shivers atop you as your fluttering walls wring his release from him.

Your entire body hurts, pain and ecstasy swimming together as you float in the ebbing beauty of your orgasm, your heart thundering hard. Pulling from you, he gently turns you over, biting into his wrist and offering the wound to your mouth, knowing you need it after what he's inflicted upon you.

"Feral vampire," you speak, licking your lips once you've taken a few mouthfuls.

He leans to you, nuzzling his cute nose against yours, his chuckle deep. "Mm, innit? When the mood takes me, I am." He kisses you, and it makes your heart somersault. "Fair to say it took me tonight."

You hum against his lips, fingers stroking his face and running down his chest, a chest that's slick with your sweat. "Absolutely bloody wrecked me, Charlie."

"Good!" he chirps, humming happily against your mouth. "That's what I like to hear."

You both dress, returning to lie curled around one another on the sofa. While you two lose yourselves to post-sexual afterglow contentment, over in the main lounge, IV and Ves sit in deep conversation.

"Although I cannot state it with a hundred percent certainty, I do think that your period of adjustment into vampirism will likely be short," the latter speaks, leaning forward a little, steepling his fingers. "You are of course used to it, you know how the process will change your body and mind. Unlike before, you will not venture into it without any clue over what will happen beyond my explanation."

"Yeah, yeah," IV begins in agreement, "I was thinking the same, cos' it ain't the first time round for me. It's like, more of a return than a new beginning, isn't it?"

His creator nods. "That is the best way to look at it, I feel. Finally, you will be returned to who and what you should be. Vampire. Never to leave us again."

A little chink in his armour, a slight crack in his illimitable foundations reveals itself then, a sight so strange for IV to witness, being that it seldom ever shows. "Ves, I'm not gonna leave you all again. If I ever do, the decision won't be mine. You've been thinking about it, eh?"

He waves a hand, the motion a little dismissive, but certainly not cool in its intentions. "It's given me one extra human to be concerned over, you returning mortal. With our family as targets, knowing after Gary's actions that anything could happen, yours, Grace's and Ivy's fragile mortality has been of the utmost importance to safeguard. I feel I shall relax a smidgen, when you at least return to your undead status."

IV nods, looking away for a moment, his eyes flitting in the direction of the front of the house. "Too close for comfort, that was. Blimey. However, none of those fucking arseholes have shown up again since it happened, have they? I suppose if we could thank that utter cunt for anything, it was making our lives easier, people being too scared to picket the house where a car bomb went off, eh?"

Indeed, the quietness of the MAVR and other such anti-vampire fractions has been noted since Gary's ill-fated decision took out half the front wall of your home. "I anticipate their return, the further they allow themselves to be manipulated by propaganda. If not now, then I expect an upswing when Ivy begins her education, your child shortly thereafter as well."

The reality of his words settle at the edges of IV's mind, and it gives him a contemplation he wasn't expecting, suddenly wondering whether his choice to return to the immortal realm is but a selfish desire, now he has a child on the way.

"Ves, am I about to make a mistake, being turned again when I'm gonna become a father?"

The elder vampire leans back, studying him, having quietly expected this question. "IV, that is not for me to gauge. All I can say is that so far, our family has managed flawlessly with raising Ivy, as we no doubt shall with your child, too. Them being out in the wilder world will bring change, but that goes for any child in any family, conventional or not. We cannot shield the little ones from life and the experiences they will encounter, whether negative or not. That fact would still remain, whether you are mortal or immortal, wouldn't it?"

Nodding, IV continues contemplation, silence stretching between the pair until Ves offers further words of advice. "If you are experiencing indecision, then we should not proceed."

"No, no I'm not. Not really," he begins, a smidgen of hesitation there ghosting his words. "I'm just so fucking mindful that I have to be perfect as a dad. I can't fail my kid, you know? I didn't even know my dad, and my mum was terrible. I ain't having that repeat itself."

Smiling, Ves leans forward once more. "A perfect parent is nonexistent. We all make our mistakes. I certainly did as a parental type, at least, in raising the three of you from baby vampires." Pausing, those candid words hang in the air, IV beginning to absorb the statement. "Your horrific past I do not doubt has perhaps given you extra incentive to be the best father you can to this baby. And you will be, for all of that love and nurturing you lacked will be poured into making sure they never want for it at all. I don't doubt for a single moment you will make a truly excellent father."

Sniffing, IV tries to hide the tears that threaten to spill, wiping his eyes on the heel of his palm. "You bastard."

His statement is met by hearty chuckles. "Sorry. Sort of." His smile kinds, cocking his head slightly. "It was what you needed to hear, I feel."

Oh, wasn't it just. He appears wistful for a few moments, clasping his hands together tightly, teeth digging into the tender flesh of his inner cheek to chew absently. "There's somewhere I need to go, before I'm turned."

Ves reads him flawlessly. "I can take you, but it no longer exists." At IV's raised eyebrow, the tall vampire rises to his feet. "I'll show you when we get there."

One vampire piggyback ride, plus a quick stop along the way, and the pair land in a village one hasn't been in for over two years, the other over eighty. Except what the latter was expecting to see no longer looms there within the picturesque landscape as a reminder of the suffering he endured within its walls.

"It's gone? I thought you just meant it was gone cos' it got closed down all that time ago."

Following his eyes to the fenced off remains of Batley Manor, Ves reaches to place a hand upon his shoulder. "I suppose in the chaos of your return to life and subsequent blending back into the family, we neglected to tell you what we did." His grim firms, his eyes softening. "We burned it down, to honour you. The council had planned to renovate it and turn it back into an emergency care children's home once again, but as soon as our wife heard about those plans, well. You know Grace and her sense of justice. She wouldn't let that stand, not after everything that went on within its walls."

IV stares ahead, his chest swelling thickly, his eyes seeing straight through the space walls once occupied, walls where the cries of abandoned, abused infants echoed, those fragile calls for reprieve going unanswered.

Never again shall the same pain swell within the space, and all because of his family. All for him and his memory.

He turns to Ves, his eyes brimming with tears, sinking into the embrace waiting for him. "Thank you, Ves. I don't know what else to say but thank you."

The vampire tightens his embrace, pressing a fond kiss atop his head. "It's our wife you owe the thanks to. It was her idea, we just agreed that it happened to be a very good one. It was cathartic, watching that hell hole burn to the ground. I know that M's vital work with you cleansed your soul and mind of the shadows it carried, but I hope seeing this has put that period of your life further to bed."

Swallowing back a lump in his throat, he dries his tears, never thinking he could love his family any more than he already does. He experiences it in thrumming waves through his chest, though, IV beginning to walk in tour around the fenced off area, his eyes picking out little details within the charred guts of what has been left behind.

The outer shell still remains in part, Ves telling him as they walk that after moving out all of the debris, the council did not have the funding to either rebuild the manor or demolish it any further, hence the fence keeping any would-be explorers out of the fragile remains. IV studies it, a little chill misting up his spine as he picks out a barren window frame at the top, the brickwork crumbling around the space.

"See that window there?" Pointing, he takes a moment, memories returning, wishing for nothing more than to be able to go back in time and put his arms around his little boy self, hug him tight and tell him that one day, after a lot of heartache, he'll be fine. He'll be happy. "That was where my bed was. I used to look out of the window at those trees over there every night and imagine running off, discovering a happier life beyond them."

Ves smiles, nodding gently. "And didn't you do just that?"

A small laugh sounds in a burst through his nose. "Yeah, yeah I did. Eventually. It took a lot more than I ever thought it would, though." Pausing, he looks past the window and into the trees once again, his entire existence playing in a loop through his mind, all of the pain, every bit of refuge and love he experienced in the family he found, the end, the new beginning. It creeps over him, makes his heart flutter, IV lifting his chin as he draws himself up a little taller.

"I'm ready, Ves."

The vampire inclines his head. "Let's go home."

A relatively short time later and the pair come to a stop out upon the vast lawn of your home, IV taking one last look at his surroundings through human eyes before he is set to return into the living dead. The air seems to crackle with expectancy, the garden itself braced to bear witness to the magical event of a human passing on from their current existence and into something - some might argue - that eclipses the boundaries and parameters of humanity by a thousand.

Looking at Ves, he nods, the vampire stepping closer, reaching beneath his jaw and slowly tipping his head back. "I brought you back, and now I shall do so again, back into the existence that made you everything you are, and now will forever continue to be."

The snap of his fangs precedes them sinking into his neck, the hot bloom of pain throbbing, IV not feeling anything but a swathing blanket of relief flooding his veins as they are emptied by Ves. His hands clutch his arms, lightheadedness presenting itself as his body feels light, like he suddenly weighs less than a feather. Death calls to him, but this time, he steps within its embrace with nothing but happiness as his heart begins to slow down, each thud a soft patter of one existence ending in order to make way for the next.

At the very cusp of it ceasing its thuds altogether, Ves pulls his teeth from his neck, supporting the bled-dry body of his offspring as he opens up his own wrist and lets him drink from the crimson wound. The ancient essence slips down his throat, a velvety elixir, IV feeling his body expiring yet at the same time, coming alive. Colours burst behind his closed eyelids, the nocturnal sounds of the night booming through his head, feeling as if he has entire universes rushing beneath his skin until it slowly fades, rich colour and vivid sounds muting to nothing as the black veil of death descends.

Gently placing him down on the lawn, Ves calls out softly for II and III, the vampires arriving with him, II making his heart stir by bending to IV and gently stroking his cheek with reverence.

"Until tomorrow, when you come back as one of us."

Carefully, Ves lifts IV's lifeless body over his shoulder, hopping down into the pre-dug pit and carefully placing him within it, lying down at his side. "Until the evening, then."

Closing his eyes, he switches himself off to await the dawn sending him into rest, the loose soil heaped over them both speedily by the rapidly moving blurs of II and III. A couple of gentle pats down with the shovels bringing their task to a close, III turning to his elder sibling.

"Right, we better get back indoors and help stop the wife from climbing the walls, because we both know she'll be on tenterhooks regardless."

His face must reveal his intentions, II giving him a shove. "Oi, bloody keep off of her!" A barked laugh fills the garden, the Viking continuing with a pointed finger. "You've been shagging her to death all fucking evening. At least give me a chance to offer sexual distraction!"

"Doesn't even need to be sexual," III speaks, the pair turning and walking back up to the house at a leisurely pace. "We could settle in and watch a film. After all, she'll be going to bed with you come the morning, so you can be a half-sized deviant all you like then, can't you?"

He receives a few muttered cusses in Danish, III once again cracking up laughing. Entering the house, they find you in the main lounge all curled up beneath a blanket, the pair flanking you, offering kisses.

"Stop panicking," II advises, being met with a slightly bemused stare.

You shake your head gently, turning to him. "I'm literally just sitting here, quietly eating M&M's!"

Pulling the edge of the bag with his finger, he inspects the contents. "And I bet that was full a short time ago, wasn't it? Panic eating."

"I don't panic eat!"

"You do!" both of your husbands chorus in unison, III continuing. "Remember when you were waiting for your mum to get back from Scotland with II and Ves? You went through an entire baguette like a beaver whittling down wood!"

Nearly choking on your mouthful of sugar-shelled chocolate, you snort with laughter, smacking his thigh. "Alright, fine! I suppose I do."

"We're not shaming you for it either, precious baby," II begins, leaning to kiss your shoulder. "But it is funny. Anyway, Ves and IV are in the ground, so everything is as it should be. Well, it will be tomorrow, then they resurface."

Between them, they do a good job in keeping you calm while that time passes, II deciding to overfeed and remain awake with you throughout the day. He does this quite regularly these days, two awake in the daylight and one back on his usual time, three if he doesn't feel too irritated. Vampires are snappy, moody creatures if they forgo rest for too long, but in the same breath, he has stated emphatically that he doesn't want to miss watching his daughter grow up.

Sometimes, Ivy herself perhaps wishes he did, though…

"For god's sake!" you call, entering your bathroom to the sounds of your baby squealing, II standing with her in the shower. "You know she doesn't like it in there!"

"Well you were faffing around with the grocery delivery and she pissed on me, so I had to do something to get us both clean!" he explains, passing her into your outstretched hands after you've opened the shower door.

"Oh, my little sweet! What did daddy do to you?" you coo softly, Ivy beginning to settle for being removed from the source of her anguish. "He's bad, isn't he?"

II chuckles, rinsing suds from his skin. "Yeah, but you like me when I'm bad," he winks, laughing at your muttered reply as you wrap Ivy in a towel. "Do you want me to leave this on so you can get in?"

"No I'm going to have a bath later," you reply, reaching for a fresh nappy and securing it to your daughter.

"Ivy, your mummy is a smelly hippie," he teases, switching it off and stepping out to being drying himself off. "She'll be growing her leg and armpit hairs out next."

"Like you'd be all that bothered if I did!" you cry, laughing. "You come from an age where women didn't remove their body hair."

"True and true. I still like getting a rise out of you, though."

Oh, doesn't he just?

You enjoy the rest of the day together as a family, the early afternoon seeing you heading to the kitchen and making yourself a little bit of lunch, another plate put together for the woman who you now count as family, too.

"Oh, how dear of you, ma'am," Mary speaks with gratitude, pulling up a seat at the island ready to tuck into the fig and walnut salad you've presented her with.

Placing a cup of tea down, too, you take an adjacent seat. "Is there any chance at all after all this time, I can talk you into simply calling me by my name?" She straightens a little bit, and you continue. "You're like family to us all, Mary. You were here when Ivy was born, you helped keep me calm and you were one of the first people who held her. Truly, you're more than our head of house. You're the heart of our family, the way you look after all of us. Especially Ves. Do you know the kind of fortitude it takes to stand up to a fifty-thousand year old vampire? And yet you do, even when he growls at you!"

Her face breaks out into a smile of pure luminosity, eyes a little glassy, Mary placing her fork down. "You are too kind to me. All I do is my job here."

"No," you press gently, "you do way more than that. You go above and beyond for us all."

"And to think, when you first arrived, I didn't care for any of you all that much," she sighs candidly, her eyes apologetic and earnest. "I detested the idea of vampires and wondered what kind of woman would marry not just one, but three of them!" She reaches for your hand, squeezing softly. "A truly lovely one, is what I found. Same as them, too. Even that absolute menace with his naked ways, enthusiastic shouting and permanent sexual innuendo filter switched off!"

You tip your head back, laughing softly at her perfect description of III as she continues. "You have all become like family to me as well, so for that, I think I can put aside my rigidity, Grace."

There in the kitchen, the mutual affection between you swells through the space, the once overly staunch housekeeper - the mighty Trunchbull, as Ves once coined her - finally allowing herself to relax into what has taking months to steadily build and bloom.

Family: sometimes, it's the people you find as well as those you are born into. You know that only too well, though.

"Bob has stood shaking his head at the pit dug into the lawn this morning," she speaks after a few moments of silence, the integrity of her teeth tested by a particularly firm walnut as she continues to chew. "I did say he would have likely been a lot more upset if they'd chosen the flower bed to dig up in order for Mr. Ve-." Pausing, she checks herself for a moment. "For Vessel and IV to bury themselves within."

You can't help but laugh softly, sipping your water. "My husband is going to get such a kick out of that, hearing you drop the mister and just call him Vessel. And bless Bob, he's so proud of that lawn, but he needn't worry. IV said he's going to relay some turf over it and make sure it re-establishes. You know, since it was his grave, effectively."

Mary shudders slightly. "It feels so odd, hearing you speak of it like that but knowing that once IV comes out, he'll be fine. Just living dead. How do you think he'll take to it, becoming a vampire?"

She still doesn't know about his resurrection, and nor does she truly need to. Maybe one day, you might tell her, but it isn't of vital importance. "I'm sure he'll settle well. He has the best creator he ever could to guide him through his fledgling stages."

It almost makes you long for Ves to be your creator eventually too when the time comes, but he was correct when he stated that such would add too many complexities within the family dynamic. Plus, II is - and has been for centuries - more than ready to become a creator, his fussiness regarding worthiness the only factor that has prevented him so far. Therefore it will be him to turn you, make you his amor in mortem, as is the term for when a vampire turns a human spouse.

After lunch, Mary continues with her duties, fetching the dust sheets out so Caleb and Kieran can begin their chimney sweeping endeavours before the fires are lit once again. For the rest of the afternoon, you and II spend precious bonding time with your daughter, watching her fascination with different toys, her little attempts to begin crawling, the way she fixates so heavily on her daddy. Maybe not to the best results, though.

"Ow, Ivy that's my eyeball," he mutters while lying on the rug, scrunching his eyes tightly shut. Again, a tiny hand goes in for a grasp. "Oh, she's my bloody daughter alright, isn't she? The barbaric genes did not miss a beat here! Oww, no! Fingers out of the eye, now!" he continues amusedly, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth to gently bite with a barrage of Playful chomping noises, Ivy squealing in delight before finding fascination with one of his pendants.

"Maybe we delay in teaching her the finer art of hatchet throwing," you suggest, your mouth wrinkling with a bitten back smile. "You know, just in case she is a bit too much her father's daughter."

"Her being tough and unapologetic about it might be a good thing in the long run, though," he speaks, lifting her to lie on his chest. "Imagine when she eventually starts showing interest in boys, or girls, or non-binaries, and they hurt her? Whack. She'll just crack 'em one and move on."

One thousand, two hundred and fifty years old, and even he understands inclusivity, not naturally assuming that once she's older, Ivy will show interest in boys. If an ancient Viking can do it, then just what the hell is the problem with so many other people, you quietly ruminate as you watch them, Ivy once again making a grab for his face.

"I think the fact that she has a vampire father and three uncles will also help. Not many people would ever dare fuck with a child who has that kind of family!" you point out, II agreeing heavily.

"Just you wait, Ivy. I don't practice violence against women, but if a boy ever hurts you, he's going to find out why they called daddy Magnus the Bloody," he coos softly, the juxtaposition between his tone and his words hilarious. "Yes they will, because daddy will split skulls for you. He shall!"

After giving her some dinner and putting her to bed, the radiance of dusk is falling fully over the horizon as you make your way back downstairs, you, II and III all walking out to the garden, ready to greet the two members of your family shortly to unearth themselves.

"Does it happen right away, at the moment of dusk?"

"More or less," II replies, pointing at III. "Took a bit longer for him, though. Ves had to wait about half an hour for him to finally haul himself out of the grave."

"Best fucking kip I'd had in my entire existence," III chirps, "even though it ain't really sleep. What can I say? Proper liked being in the ground." He then nudges you with a soft elbow. "You'll feel that affinity eventually too, you know. The best rest is when you're dug into the earth. I dunno, something about dead energies connecting with a source of life."

Just then, the top soil before you begins to shift, scattering down the mound of dirt as long, elegant fingers break the surface, your eldest husband hauling himself out. He plugs his nose, blowing debris out of each nostril and rapidly shaking himself off, nodding at his offspring and winking at you before his eyes move back to the grave.

"Might take him a few minutes." His finger then directs at III. "He scared the fucking shit out of me when I turned him. I thought I'd made an error, but no. He was merely contently dirt napping while I panicked."

"Yeah," you speak, moving to give him a kiss. "They just told me all about that."

Four sets of eyes all fix on the dirt mound then, all of you waiting patiently for it, the rebirth of IV. What the sun took, the night will now return, your heart feeling as if it is fluttering in the back of your throat as you wait anxiously.

Ves curls his dirty hand around yours, squeezing your fingers. "He's coming back. I feel him. Just give him a moment."

The fact that his link has once again reestablished with his creator sends an emergency shot of calm to your rapidly thrumming heart, and you swallow hard, watching, waiting…

Your stomach cinches tightly as finally, you see the earth beginning to move, preceding the rapid ascension of IV, who bursts through the loose soil, shaking himself off. His pale skin virtually shimmers under the light of the waxing gibbous, his eyes even more brilliant in their luminescent sparkle than you remember, the energy radiating from him palpable through the chill of the February air.

"IV, how do you feel?" Ves asks, watching his offspring as he takes it all in again. His ears pick up on everything, the far off bustle of traffic in Bath, the scuttling of spiders in pursuit of hunting smaller insects, the heartbeat of ants.

Lifting his head to the sky, he studies the stars, endless constellations that welcomed him back into the bloom of eternal nightfall. His fangs pop, the vampire smiling, turning to you all with an unmistakable glint in his eyes. There you are, the family he found, those he lost and miraculously returned to once more, all of you waiting for your bond to cement fully, marked by the emergence of his living death.

"I feel like me again."

And for that, once again as the four of you move to embrace him, your family truly is whole.

All is as it should be.

With the unpleasantness of the car bomb incident a few weeks past still lingering in your mind (your father charged, denied bail and languishing in HMP Bristol while awaiting trial) you're pushing ahead in an attempt to make your daughter's first Christmas truly magical for her. As is her daddy, who had to be held back recently from buying her a pony, such was his excitement to utterly spoil her to death and be reminded that it'd be at least three years until she'd actually be able to ride it.

He did not take kindly to III telling him he could until that point, since he was perfectly pony sized.

The vampire in question arrives with you, arms slipping around your waist, placing a kiss to the side of your neck. "Did you get all the wrapping done?"

"Yeah," you reply, leaning back against his chest, kissing his cheek. "Mum helped, she's bloody fantastic at it!!

He hums a chuckle, moving to go and take Ivy from her uncle. "Well, you did need some help. I'll never forget the mass of sellotape we had to yank our way through, that first Christmas you were with us." You glare, and he burst into laugher. "What? It would have been easier trying to break into a bank vault!"

"Grace wraps a present so well, she means for you to never get into it!" III agrees, his grin alight with his usual mirth.

Sauntering over, you arch an eyebrow. "Well, there goes my plan on tying myself in a big bow for you to undo with your teeth." Cocking your head in II's direction, you wink. "Same for you, too."

"Um, can we perhaps backtrack a little?" he questions, him and III looking between each other.

"Yeah, I rescind my statement over your present wrapping skills," he agrees, while you shake your head and kiss the baby before walking over towards the door.

"Nope, no gift wrapped wife for either of you!"

"I'd settle for you unwrapped?" II calls, both of them laughing when you extend your middle finger back over your shoulder. Walking down towards the kitchen, your route is blocked by IV leaving the study, reaching out and trailing a finger across the waistband of your trousers.

"So, if I don't take the piss out of your gift wrapping skills, do I still get to unwrap you from the big bow?"

You reach up to drape your arms around his neck, smiling sultrily. "Maybe."

"Nice," he grins, "I should at least be able to pick the colour of the bow, though."

You lean into a kiss he happily gives, humming softly, little flint strikes of arousal beginning to spark within. "Mmm, I think that's fair. Or you could unwrap me from one of your favourites of my underwear sets."

He moves his mouth to your neck, ghosting a kiss, making you shudder with anticipation. "Or I could just tear off all your clothes and give you a damned hard pounding right now?"

Oh, how you're tempted, but you have a thousand things you need to get done before your aunt and uncle arrive at 7pm. "I'm pushed for time, love."

He raises an eyebrow. "I can be quick?" His smile grows, looking you up and down appreciatively. "Come on, let's go somewhere quiet down here. Are you really saying that you have better things to do than, well, me?"

You have to go and dye your hair, finish painting your nails and also begin helping the man in front of you with dinner prep from tomorrow. Hmm. Hair dye can be put on and dinner prep started while you're waiting for it to develop and send your red tresses an extra vibrant shade. Your nails only need the clear top coat doing, something you can do much later while you're enjoying drinks with your family. With that in mind…

You're backed into the narrow space, IV so consumed by his desire as you giggle against his lips that he almost knocks you over. Reaching for the light switch there in the big pantry, you flick it on and pull the door shut, the excitement of it, the illicit thrill that one of the staff might catch you there thrumming over your bones as your heart quickens.

You wiggle your way out of your trousers, pulling off his hoodie, unable to resist biting one of his dark, rosy nipples. The action makes his entire chest spasm, IV groaning, taking a handful of your hair and giving it a tug, exposing your neck to the hunger of his teeth. It might not compare with a vampire bite, but god, it still sends a glimmers skittering through you.

In the continuation of gaining trust, he's been very gentle with you so far, sexually speaking. This moment scorches, though, both feral with longing for one another, pawing and groping, kisses a messy clash as you pant against each other's mouths. A flick has your bra undone, your breasts spilling onto the soft clutch of his hands, thumbs gently stroking over your nipples until they stiffen while you steer him back to sit atop the step stool in the corner.

He lacks any tangible patience to get you fully naked as you sit astride him, yanking at your undies until they tear in his grasp, kisses all smoky heaven as your tongues battle. You're wet with longing for him, his fingers stroking through your sopping folds with a hungry grumble as you unfasten his jeans and pull his cock free, impaling yourself upon it.

He fills you entirely, deeply rooted, hands pawing at you greedily. You're utterly entrenched deep in the heat and sin of it, kisses smouldering, hands wandering. Its lava poured over ice, the flames of it scorching your blood, fervid desires played out in sex that borders on brutal, bounced on his cock as his fingers dig welts into the soft of your hips.

“Nobody has ever fucked me like you do, sugar. God, you’re too bloody good.”

You know it of old, that you’re the best he’s ever had. He pours his lust and want into you, biting your lip before his mouth moves to your neck, panting hard with a rumbled groan. Oh, the thrill of it, that the pantry door could open at any second.

Lifting you, you know he needs the dominance, the need shaking his muscles as he lies you down on the floor, the tangency between you not lost as he kneels before you, cock plunging you fully with hard, rapid snaps of his hips. He’s like iron, heavy and unyielding within you, stretching you, moulding and remaking you around him, spreading your thighs wide as he watches your cunt glossing his thick, veiny cock.

It's the kind of sex akin to a comet, streaking hot and rapid beneath your skin, destined only to last mere moments. When you come for him, your back banging against the hard wood floor beneath you, it burns white hot and radiating, your body shimmering with incandescence as he fills you deep with thick ropes of cum.

"Oh my god," you pant, clutching his forearms. "You just made me come so hard, my brain backfired!"

He goes to say something, chest still heaving, swallowing hard as he widens his eyes. "Uhh."

Immediately, you're shaking beneath him with laughter. "Is that all you can manage?"

"Mm."

"I'm not the only one with a backfired brain, then?" you tease, fingernails drifting in tickle over his nipples.

He shakes his head, thudding it down against your chest with a groan. "Bloody hell. Can't remember the last time I… I… nah. Fuck. Static brain."

Oh, you're ruined him completely, and it's wholly too funny. He eventually regains enough mental comprehension to help you up off the floor, both dressing, your ruined undies slipped into your pocket, moving from the pantry and out into the kitchen again with nobody any the wiser. Well, your other three husbands probably heard and tuned it out, but none of the few staff still milling around before they finish in an hour seem to have noticed.

While IV begins the prep, you race upstairs and get your hair dye on, mixing the two bottles it takes to completely cover your mountain of hair. Securing it in a couple of big clips, you race back to the kitchen, finding a glass of prosecco waiting for you on the side.

"Might as well start proceedings now, eh sugar?" he smiles, lifting his bottle of beer and gently tapping against the glass you've just lifted from the island.

Why not? It's Christmas Eve, after all, and you've expressed more than enough milk to last Ivy through the festive period. "Yes, yes we bloody should!"

A few sips of fizz are taken before you move to the chopping board, tasking yourself with potato peeling while IV washes off carrots, broccoli and cauliflower in the sink. He's flatly refused to prepare the traditional Christmas vegetable that is the humble sprout, and since nobody else who will be eating is altogether too keen either, it matters not.

It'll be you, him, III, your mum, Oliver, Mel and Chris eating lunch, Ves and II rising in the evening just before presents are exchanged.

"Right, why is there a pile of rice over here?"

"I'm making sushi," you tell him, jogging over to quickly check if it's cool enough to begin assembling, getting a few grains stuck to your fingers. "What?" you then cry, watching him lift his chin with a look of entertained disbelief.

"You're making sushi?" he questions slowly. "You?"

Cheeky bastard! "Yes! And I've been taught how by an actual Japanese person, so you can put that face you're pulling at me away!"

The eyebrows wiggle around a bit more. "Nene ain't a sushi chef though, is she?"

"No, but she employs plenty of them, she's been taught and now so I have I! I know how to slice the fish properly and everything!"

Looking at the huge clock in the kitchen, he hums. "Well, you've got an hour and fifteen minutes, and you still have to go and do all your lady faffing to get ready, so I'd hurry up if I were you."

He winks, grinning through his teasing as you mouth a barrage of swears at him, leaving him to the rest of the prep. Racing upstairs, you wash your hair dye off, giving your newly refreshed locks a good shampoo and conditioning, then take a quick shower to scrub off all the little flecks of red that have stained the back of your neck with the help of another.

"Charlie, I really don't have time for this!" you giggle, your mind resolute to not entertaining being sexually interfered with but your body somewhat betraying you.

"Oh, bollocks!" he huffs. "You had time to let my bloody sibling give you a banging in the pantry, you've got five minutes for me in the shower!"

You try to resist, but god, he doesn't make it easy. With his mouth at your neck and fingers slipping down to begin massaging your clit, you mentally try and check off how rapid you can be with getting ready. Your hair will take five minutes to dry, you know what you're wearing already, you can go for maximum impact with a set of false lashes, kohl liner and lip gloss for makeup that'll take less time than a full face. Sushi assembling can't be rushed, and IV is making the other food for tonight anyway.

With a bit of girl maths applied, you have your window of five minutes.

"You'd better be quick," you purr, hand reaching for his cock, beginning to squeeze upon his shaft.

"Mm, I will, but I'll be so fucking good, you won't be able to think of anything else all night."

Now there's a promise you can get on board with, your mouths meeting in a hungry clash, his groan all smoke and salt as he pushes his fingers within you, fangs popping to feel how wet you are for him already as he rakes them slowly and beautifully against your sweet spot.

He pulls you closer against him, the roughness of the action making sparks skitter through your blood, nipping your neck as his hands glide down your body before moving to stand behind you, pushing you against the heavy glass of the shower and lifting your leg.

Hooking it over the bend of his arm, he raises it further as you feel that first delicious push against your opening, gasping as he arrows into you fully. You spasm immediately at the stretch, his short beard tickling the back of your neck as he moves his mouth, ghosting the side of your throat with the promise of his lips only to bite you instead.

His teeth sinking in to feed on you sends a flurry of glimmers down your spine, a moan dripping from your lips like syrup as he retreats, then fills you again. You contract around him strongly, his perfect, hard cock sliding so deep within you that you wail, the thick head throbbing against your summit with every thrust.

He then reaches back, taking the small, removable shower head from its coupling, switching it on and passing it into the hand that holds your leg, directing the intense jet of water right onto your clit. You arch back against him, all that he does prying moans from you, his free hand snaking around to hold your neck, tipping your head back onto his shoulder as he groans deeply in your ear.

“Fuck, that beautiful cunt feels so tight!” he rumbles, tongue navigating the column of your neck. Any words you might reply with are stolen as he arrows you again, harder than the pace he’d set, your chest heaving as you wail for him, his hand flexing at your throat.

Those hard thrusts continue, pounding you savagely, the glass cool against your front, everything encompassing you in raw heat. You can scarcely bear it sometimes, just how aroused your beautiful, sexually decimating vampire gets you.

His hips drive up into you with hard, sharp snaps, your pleasure rolling through you strongly, the water still cascading in a concentrated jet at your clit making you throb. Molten pleasure begins to pool, hot and swirling, your slick heat twitching strongly around him.

He spears into you deeply, the water trickling over your skin adding lovely sensations, wave after wave of contractions tingling through you without actually crashing forth, your body wrecked by all he inflicts but yearning to give him more. III is a storm you wish to be swept away in, chest sliding against your back deliciously as he quickens, driving up into you with merciless energy.

One hand pounds off the glass, the other wrapping back around his neck, his mouth kissing your shoulder as he thrusts into you with vigour. With a cry, shuddering as your undulate against him, you unravel, III yanking at the thread that is the blanket of your pleasure, undoing you completely.

“Fuck,” you gasp, vaguely aware of him placing the shower head back in its cradle, both of his arms wrapping around you, his cock still slipping in and out of you slowly, enjoying the way you’re fluttering around him still. "Yeah, yeah I will be thinking about that all night."

He hums a deep chuckle, kissing the back of your neck. "Told you all I needed was five minutes."

Reluctantly, you have to race from his arms and into the bundle of towels, literally running out of your en-suite and rushing to ready yourself. Fifteen minutes later and you're back in the kitchen, your sushi assembling on the go, IV still viewing you dubiously.

Looking up from your assembly of nigri blocks, you frown. "You're hovering."

"Just curiously spectating, sugar," he replies sweetly. No, he bloody isn't.

"You're waiting for me to fuck up, I know you are," you reply, waving your hand in the direction of the other counter. "Don't you have pizzas to assemble?"

"They're all done, just got to go bang 'em in the oven outside when Mel and Chris get here."

That was your Christmas gift from him, one he couldn't wait to show you he'd had custom built (well, him, Bob and Bob's friend Seth, a former brickie by trade got it all set up) when you announced you wanted to make pizzas as part of the Christmas Eve food. You couldn't stop bouncing on the spot when you saw it there, the wood fired oven all built in Cotswold stone, looking beautiful and bringing your dreams of outdoor cooking to life beyond what a barbecue can provide.

Wetting your hands thoroughly with more rice vinegar, you continue your method of rolling balls of rice in your palms before placing them down and forming them into oblong blocks, remembering Nene instructing you that this was the easiest way. God, you miss her. A brief visit from her and Laz to meet the baby a few weeks prior just wasn't enough time with your lovely friend. At least you have FaceTime, though.

Looking up at a still hovering IV from under your newly long, full eyelashes, you pout, eyes narrowing dangerously. "You know how sharp knives have to be to slice sushi, don't you?"

He leans forward, licking his top lip in a way that elicits a shiver to dart up your spine. "Oooh, knife play, eh? Kinky bitch."

Closing your eyes with a quiet growl, you decide the big guns are necessary in order to get him out from under your feet.

"II!"

He appears in a flash, a protesting IV thrown unceremoniously over his shoulder a second later. "Where do you want him?"

"In the bloody water trough!"

"No!" IV shouts, beginning to thrash. It does him no favours. "Put me down, I'll stop, I'll stop!"

"Will you, though?" II asks, giving him a very rapid spin around, IV's yell having you in soft fits.

"Yes!"

Chuckling, the mild torture continues. "Repeat after me, I am not Gordon Ramsay."

"Oh, fuck off, II!"

"I'd do as he says if I were you," you chip in, wiping your hands, all nigri blocks assembled and ready for the fish.

"Fucking put me down, you hostile little gnome!"

You almost lose it at that, never hearing that particular insult towards your husband's diminutive height. II doesn't let it phase him, though, reaching for the band of IV's boxers and beginning to pull.

"I'll rip these so far up your crack, you'll need a surgeon to remove them," he threatens, near pissing himself laughing. "Repeat after me, I am not Gordon Ramsay."

"Did someone need my assistance?" III then speaks, appearing in the space, pointing at the scene. "I heard a surgeon was required?"

"II, pack it in!!" IV roars desperately, the black Calvin Klein's yanked even higher. "My fucking balls!"

"Say it!"

"I am not Gordon Ramsay!"

"And I will therefore leave our wife alone while she's cooking and not be a pest," II then adds, him and III in near hysterics.

"Just put me down!"

Once again, the underwear it yanked. "Say it, skidespræller!"

"I know what that means!" IV cries. "Don't fucking call me a shit wriggler!"

"Say it!"

Oh, god. Your sides hurt.

"And I will therefore leave our wife alone while she's cooking and not be a pest, even though technically she ain't cooking, cos' sushi is raw!" he yells, finally being placed back on his feet, yanking the bunch of his boxers out of his bum with a scowl. "Fucking dickhead! You're pissed already, aren't you? Always get like this when you've been at the booze blood!"

A beaming II, clearly thrilled with himself, makes a small gap between his thumb and forefinger. "Little bit. Might've started early."

You did wonder. With IV neutralised and a beer placed in his hand, II comes to give you a little affection before vanishing again, leaving you to your prep. You're all done with five minutes to spare, quickly washing your hands and making sure the wine fridge is plenty stocked before running down the hallway to answer the donging chime of the doorbell.

"Oh my god, it's snowing again?" you cry, Mel's lips thinning.

"No, poppet, I've just got some really bad dandruff," she scowls, eventually cracking. "Bloody let me in! Freezing my pissing tits off out here!"

Allowing her entrance, she places her bags down, giving you a bone crunching cuddle, Chris making his way over.

"Absolutely shitted it down just as we pulled off the motorway!" he announces, stopping to kiss your cheek before continuing in, the bags he's holding making a familiar clinking noise.

"Where's my Mel?" you then hear the excited roar of III, appearing in a second to give her the kind of hug that lifts her from the ground. "Chris, I see alcohol in that bag, mate. We told you we had that covered!" he then speaks, putting your aunt down and moving to hug your uncle.

"Ahh, I know, I know! But it isn't all person alcohol," he speaks, lifting a bottle from the bag. "I'm told this is excellent for you lot."

II appears, peering at the label on the bottle. "Fucking hell, Chris. That's double concentrate blood."

Which, as it happens, is the most expensive of all the alcohol-laced bloods money can buy. "I know, I thought you might like that. A token of our thanks for having us up here for Christmas."

II beams, clapping a strong hand to his shoulder. "I like you. Come on, let's go forth and be, well, fucking merry!"

Chris turns to you, smiling in surprise at II's laid back, welcoming demeanour. Having only met him once before and finding him to be a little standoffish, as your Viking always is with new people, he happily follows along in the direction of the kitchen, II and III grabbing a bag each just as IV appears to greet them.

There is a missing husband, though.

"Ves?"

With a little shriek from your aunt, he appears out of nowhere. "Darling Mel, I apologise for startling you." Leaning to her, he kisses her cheek, taking hers and Chris's bags, turning to give you a wink.

"Why are you winking?" you immediately ask, suspicious. "What do you know that I don't?"

He leans in close, Mel already on her way down to her regular guest bedroom. "You in that dress. Your boobs in that dress. The fact I might have to drag you off, ruck that dress up around your waist and fuck you until you're remade around me at some point tonight."

You'd wonder what the hell has gotten into them all tonight, but you know full well. When vampires smell sex in the air, their desire notches up rampantly. Your tryst with IV in the pantry was the catalyst, it seems. Two down, and two to go.

Giggling, you reach to give his bum a squeeze, continuing down the corridor to deliver Mel's bags with him before you all make your way around to the kitchen. On the way, Mel reaches for your hand, suddenly pulling you to a stop.

"Right, poppet. Before we all get too stuck in with the merriment, I just want to check in with you," she speaks, her eyes warm, hand rubbing your arm affectionately. "You've had a bloody lot to contend with, over these past four months! Ivy coming, IV coming back, and now all this shit with your dad! You doing okay with it all?"

Your heart thrums, her love warming its edges. She might be perhaps the biggest character of the family, the wild card, the eternal silly spirit, but beneath it all is a woman who cares deeply and always wants the very best for you.

"I'm doing good, Mel. I am," you state, nodding. "It's been a fucking shit show, absolute insanity, but it's having IV back that's really got me through."

She shakes her head in wonder, hand still rubbing. "Amazing, shitting amazing! I can't wait to learn more about it all, if I'm allowed to? And as for your dad, the least said the better. Fucking arsehole."

"Of course, you can!" you exclaim, leading her through to the kitchen, where your uncle Chris is already receiving that particular explanation, to hilarious results.

"I can't quite grasp it," he begins, gesticulating in his usual fashion when he's confused. "Alright so… so you were gone? But… Ves, how did you carry a body that far to where this witch would see you, without being noticed?"

"Vampires burn to ashes beneath the sun, Chris," he informs him. "As IV was, he was pocket sized, at least. A big pocket, but pocket sized nonetheless."

"Oi, are you calling me fat?" IV barks, laughing before swigging his beer, Ves rolling his eyes.

"Oh, oh I didn't know the details. I thought maybe, you know, burn victim and then dead. Blimey," he continues. "But then how? How did she… and you're here? And…"

"And yeah, with spells and a load of other magical bits and pieces, she brought me back. Bonded my soul to my remains and made my flesh and all that grow back. Bloody hurt like hell, but I'm over the worst of it now." he shrugs.

Chris's eyes widen, the vampires all chuckling, III sliding a vodka shot across the island. "Drink up, Chris. Your face tells me you need it."

He reaches for the glass, eyes still virtually out on stalks. "I just can't get my head round the fact it's all real! What else is out there then, that we all thought was silly stories but actually exists? Loch Ness Monster? Bigfoot?"

"I saw Sasquatch!" III chimes, II snorting.

"No, you didn't! You were stoned and saw Pete at a distance!"

"I did! It was you and Pete in cahoots, trying to convince me otherwise!" he insists.

IV absolutely falls apart at that, collapsing down on the island. "Fucking hell! When was that?"

"While you weren't here," II fills in, turning then to Chris. "Pete runs our ranch in Wyoming. Absolute giant of a man, almost seven feet tall with a big, black beard that touches his stomach. III got so battered one night he mistook him for the legendary bigfoot. Pete hasn't let him forget it, either."

Once your uncle has finished laughing, he finally speaks again. "But do they exist, though?"

"I've seen one," Ves contributes, taking a seat. "They were very shy creatures, but they did exist once upon a time. They've died out now, though, I think. Too much deforestation, too many humans driving them further into the wilderness."

"And I bet you've seen some sights, too, animals that aren't here any longer, huh?" Chris speaks, again being passed a shot by III.

"I have. I've encountered saber-toothed cats, woolly mammoths, giant sloths, etc. The mammoths were particularly lovely. Impossibly enormous, but such gentle creatures. It was sad, to see them deplete and eventually cease to exist," he explains, both Chris and Mel standing there in absolute awe.

"So that would make you…" he pauses, trying to do the maths. "How old, if that isn't rude?"

Ves smiles, making an open handed gesture. "Not at all. Around fifty thousand years old, give or take a century or so. I am apparently the oldest vampire on earth. The witch told me that."

Chris gapes, his hand reaching out blindly to grasp.

"I gotcha," III tells him, passing another vodka shot. "Oh, keep IV's resurrection on the down low when Oliver gets here, mate. He doesn't know, not being family."

Chris winks, pointing a finger. "Not a problem!"

The merriment swirls around you, your mum and Oliver arriving after a further half an hour. With the help of IV - and slight hindrance of III - you make sure everyone is kept well sustained with food and drinks, your own hunger satiated by Ves keeping a watchful eye on you, picking up little pieces of food and feeding them to you every now and again. He knows you forget when you're busy, eventually tiring of seeing you running around like a lunatic and holding you to lean back against him in a one armed embrace as he drinks his tea.

"You're doing entirely too much fussing and not enough celebrating," he leans to your ear to murmur. "I shan't have any of that on my watch. Next year, we hire in catering."

"But I like it," you say, sipping your champagne, "you know I thrive on all this."

"I do, but you don't take enough moments to actually stand and enjoy it." Like a coiled spring, you suddenly shoot from his clutch and over towards the oven, pulling out the tray of bruschetta rounds that need to cool before their various toppings are applied. "My point therein," he then adds with a wink.

"Right, what do these little bready thingies need on them?" III pipes up, waving his hand in the direction of the tray.

He's nudged then by his sibling, or rather, shunted out of the way. "For you not to get involved. Hop it," IV speaks, gently grasping your upper arms and moving you in his direction. "You need to play bartender to the wife, get her so drunk she stops fussing and lets us take over. II! Go get the pizza's out from the oven, would you?"

"What am I, your damned sous chef?" he snorts, enjoying a glass of the blood Chris brought with him.

"Yes," IV replies, grinning. "Go get the pave and put 'em on the plates I left out there." He then reaches to grab III by the back of his jeans. "Not you. You'll drop." He then points to you and the assortment of alcohol bottles upon island in turn. "Wife. Drunk."

With everyone given their orders, Ves taking it upon himself to go along with II, you're steered to the island, immediately being plied with vodka shots by your very merry uncle.

"Oh god, no! I can't with that one!" you cry, crinkling your nose.

Chris snorts, clapping a hand to your shoulder. "Oh, get it down!"

"I can't, I'll be sick! It's mandarin!" Your mum bursts into hysterics then, receiving a fiercely pointed finger from you. "Stop it!"

"No, oh flipping hell, I'll never forget that. When you and Teddy home for half term from uni and drank a bottle of that to yourselves," she reminisces, "then went up to the chip shop in the village, ordered everything, ate most of it and then saw it all again about an hour later. You were both so ill!"

"We've got tequila," Mel pipes up, beginning to search the bottles.

Oh, no. Heave. "I can't drink that either!"

"Yeah, last time she did, she lost her shoes out on the driveway, had to be carried into the house by Ves and then fucking hell, she honked her guts up worse than anything I have ever seen in my life or death. She was absolutely rat arsed!" III regales everyone with, while you hide your face against his arm in shame.

"Ahh, I remember you telling me that when I came up last year! Mel laughs, reaching to rub your shoulder and pull you from your hiding place. "Right, what have we got that's Grace friendly but'll get her trashed?"

"I'm sticking with champagne!" you cry, clutching your glass close. "Trust me, Dom Perignon will do the job nicely!"

Oh, how it does just that. You have a wonderful Christmas Eve with your family, feeling a little bleary when you awake the next morning next to a resting Ves, who did indeed make good on his promise to you earlier in the night.

Leaning over, you kiss his chest, stroking the small smattering of fine hairs in the centre. "Sexual dynamite, aren't you, my beautiful, big vampire?"

Getting up, you take a shower and dress in your pyjamas, going in to Ivy's room and finding her lying there playing with her feet, her gummy grin spreading hugely.

"Hello, my little stink!" you laugh, reaching to pick her up. "Who's done a massive poo? Is it you?"

She bounces and gurgles, being taken to her changing table and freshened up, dressing her and heading downstairs. Two very bleary relatives greet you in the kitchen, Mel with her head down on the island next to a piping hot coffee, Chris standing with a glass in his hand, three eggs cracked into it as he adds Tabasco sauce.

The third? A lot more chipper than your aunt and uncle, it has to be said.

"Merry Christmas, sugar!" IV greets you with, kissing you and the baby in turn. "Let me get the baking trays all organised and I'll do you a mimosa. Hair of the dog and all that." He then nods to your aunt, who weakly waves with a muffled 'Merry Christmas, poppet.' "Mel had one, although she's still rougher than a badger's arsehole."

"And this?" you say, moving to greet your uncle. "Merry Christmas, Chris."

He kisses your cheek, placing the Tabasco down and looking on at the contents of the glass in his hand with mild trepidation. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart. And you, Ivy! As for this, your hubby insists it works as a hangover cure. I'm unconvinced."

"Go on, Chris," IV advises, taking baking trays from the cupboard. "Get it down!"

A lot of huffing and puffing follows. "I know it'll probably work, I do, but Christ on fire. Tell my heaving guts that!"

"You men and your crazy remedies," Mel pipes up, sweeping her hair from her face as she straightens. "Just have a bucket load of coffee and a bit of hair of the dog!" She then beams brightly at you, holding out her arms for Ivy. "Princess smushy cheeks!"

"Ah la la blaa laaa!"

"Yeah, kid. Your great auntie here did drink too much lager, you're absolutely right!"

"A ba ba ba, fnaaaa!"

Again, Ivy's gabber is answered as if she's speaking actual words. "I agree, I think uncle Chris is going to see those eggs again about five seconds after he swallows them!"

Another bout of huffing from your uncle precedes his tipping the glass to his mouth and swallowing back the contents, IV quick to give him a glass of juice as a palette cleanser. "Oh, blimey! That tasted all kinds of foul!" Taking the grapefruit juice, he nods. "Cheers, bud."

"No probs." he's told, moving to make you a mimosa, which you take with a kiss while heating up Ivy's feed.

"Morning! Happy bloody Christmas, family!"

Ahh, III is in his usual good spirits, Mel groaning. "Do you have to be so loud? My eyelashes hurt. Shhh," she mutters, your husband moving to wrap her in a hug as he laughs.

"Hit the Stella Artois a bit hard, eh, Mel?"

She frowns, resting her head against his chest. "No mentioning of the evil French lager. No, no, no. I'll do a sick all over the shitting floor!"

He's still laughing as he releases her, giving Ivy a big kiss and taking her with him when he moves to greet you. "Here, I'll feed her. You sit, babe."

Gladly, you do, sipping your mimosa. You decide to stick with these for the rest of the day, save waking up with a tender head for a second morning in a row, bustling around the kitchen and helping IV with his lunch endeavours while III keeps your family and Ivy entertained.

"My god, I think I speak for everyone here when I state that was probably the best Christmas dinner I have ever eaten," Oliver beams after the array of beautiful food has almost all been devoured later that afternoon. "IV, your efforts are appreciated."

"I'll flippin' say!" Mel agrees, leaning to kiss his cheek, your heart melting when he wraps an arm around her warmly. "How'd you stop the turkey from going dry? I can never crack the secret of it, but you? Impart some of that chef's knowledge on your auntie by marriage!"

"First, you've gotta pre-soak it for twenty four hours in a wine and herb brine. Then while it's in the oven, basting and collecting the cooking juices in a syringe, then injecting them directly back into the bird every half hour. It's an arse ache to do, but like, I'd rather have that than dry meat."

"Nah, nobody wants their meat dry," III chimes, your uncle Chris almost choking on a mouthful of wine as he snorts into his glass, Mel throwing her napkin across the table at his head.

"Trust you to be filthy, Charlie!" she cries, shaking with her laughter.

If there is a culprit at all in this family, it's him. Come the late afternoon and Mary and her husband Roy pop over for a coffee and a few mince pies on their way to church for evening mass, Ves and II missing them by a few minutes when they finally rise. With them joining you, the giving and receiving of gifts commences, and you experience the utter joy that is watching your daughter study everything she's been bought. And the hilarity that follows.

"I knew she'd do this," II speaks, Ivy excitedly waving around a piece of red tissue paper. "She's more bloody interested in the wrapping than what's inside!"

Leaning to him, you kiss his cheek. "We should have just bought her a load of wrapping paper and scrunched it up, shouldn't we?"

That seems to be the general consensus as your daughter shows her fascination with each piece you help her tear from her gifts, the most beautiful one coming from her uncle Ves, it has to be said.

"Oh my god," you speak, after opening the two halves of polystyrene housing the huge snow globe between them. "Look! It's our house!" You then study it a little closer. "And us!"

Everyone makes appreciative noises as they peer to study it, the beautiful, tiny version of your sprawling home there within the liquid, and the five dainty little figures standing before it, your likeness holding Ivy in your arms.

"I wanted her to have something that included all of us in it, and the home she was born in," he speaks, while you juggle the snow globe and the baby. Mel takes the former, II lifting the latter into his arms as you stand and go to give your eldest husband a big hug and kiss.

"It's beautiful, and I just know she's going to treasure it when she's old enough to appreciate it."

It takes pride of place on the dresser in her bedroom a short time later when you put her down to sleep, heading back downstairs to the hilarious sight of your aunt being stalked with vodka.

"Come on, Mel! Do a shot!" III enthuses, following her as she shakes her head rapidly.

"No, I can't! I'll be sick!"

"Oh, come on, your lightweight!" he shouts, Chris hot on his heels offering the same towards his wife as they pursue her in the direction of the kitchen.

Turning, you see your mum coming out of the lounge, moving to her side, her arm slipping around your waist as you rest your head against hers. "I know Christmas looks a bit different for you this year, but I really hope you've enjoyed it."

She kisses your cheek, hand moving to rub your arm affectionately. "It might look different, babe, but I prefer it. New home, same lovely family."

"Mel! Would you just drink it? I'm spilling here, sweetheart!"

Looking to you, she snorts with laughter. "And the same loud III."

If there's anything any of you can count on never changing, it's that.

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With the events of earlier still fresh in your mind, split wide like an open wound, this little slice of serenity, drinking in the beauty of the sleeping baby oblivious to it all, is a tonic that helps soothe the ache. You know, though, understand it well, that this will hurt for a long time to come.

Your father. You own father, and he sought to cause the kind of damage that anyone unlucky enough to become tangled in simply wouldn't have walked away from. It could have been anyone, you, you holding the baby, perish the thought, your husbands. You mum.

He didn't care. He wanted it, actively sought it. If he hadn't become so enraged by witnessing your mum moved on in a new relationship, he very well could have had his heinous plan come to fruition, too. At a hazarded guess, he'd have likely asked to bring his car up the drive, parked it up next to the house, then gone over to the guest house to talk to your mum and boom.

A shiver runs through you, glacial, your insides prickles by the frost of knowing just how close you all came to such mortal peril. Could a vampire even survive a bomb blast?

"No." You shake your head rapidly, swallowing hard. "Don't even think about it. They're all fine."

How can you not, though? Especially when one of them appears behind you, wrapping you in his arms.

"Your mum has just come back again," II speaks quietly, hands stroking your tummy, resting his chin on your shoulder. "She could only manage a few hours of sleep, so she said she'll look after Ivy for the morning while we go to bed. I anticipate you'll likely not be able to sleep too, though, so I'm staying awake."

The strength of his presence is a comfort you aren't about to pass up in insistence he rest right now. "Thank you," you whisper, turning to kiss him, your husband reaching past you to gently stroke one of Ivy's little hands before leading you from her room and down to his.

Unlike you, very unlike your usual tidiness, you let your clothes fall to the floor where you remove them, climbing beneath the duvet, II switching on the bedside lamp on his side before welcoming you against his chest.

"In my many years, taking into account my long list of adversaries, I cannot recall a time where I desired to kill any of them with quite the same ferocity as I would reserve for your father." You mainly expected his comfort, his calming you in your turmoil, but perhaps you truly should have known that out of all of them, it was the Viking warlord who would respond with such intentions. "It is taking much, much restraint not to go down there, break into the cells and throttle him with my bare fucking hands for this."

His love language; it's a mixed bag, really, his strength and security offered usually prevailing. However, when it comes to your emotional well-being or your safety being threatened, it speaks only one dialect; brutality.

Digging your elbow against the pillow just above his shoulder, you rest your head to your hand, your fingers idly tracing the tattoo swirls decorating his chest. "I know, darl. I know." Sighing, your fingertips move to the gritty, dark blonde stubble flecking his jawline.

"I wish you were still king of somewhere, and we were back in time, so your decision could be the final one regarding his fate, you know? Because I'd love to see you hand him that punishment. I fucking hate him so much. I never thought I'd say that about him, even after everything he already did! I was happy to quietly resent him, but hate? Actual hate takes effort he isn't worth, so that only makes me even bloody angrier!"

Your jaw clenches, resting your forehead to his chest with a growl, II stroking your arm, leaning to kiss the tip of your nose when you emerge from beneath your hair. "You can take pleasure in the fact he isn't likely to walk free for a long, long time. What he's done, it's cost him everything. His wife, daughter, freedom, his whole life. You be as angry as you need to be for now, though. There's no need to rush yourself through it, but just remember this. You win, not him."

Not that it should have ever come to that, but he's right. "I mean, what the actual hell was he thinking? A bomb, C bloody four?!" you exclaim, shaking your head. "I just can't quantify it, how he could go to such an extreme!"

"Radicalisation."

Frowning, you crinkle your nose a little. "How do you mean?"

"It's how extremist groups gain in their numbers, isn't it? They prey on people's hatred, brainwash them further with their particular brand of propaganda and then take advantage of it to further their own agenda. I don't believe your dad was acting of his own volition at all, but with the MAVR upping their ante against us undead, it really wouldn't surprise me if they'd redefined their tactics to include acts of domestic terrorism."

God, it didn't even cross your mind that this might not have been an act entirely concocted of his own volition, that he might've had help and cajoling into the facilitation of it. It makes more than perfect sense, though. Logically, it is a very fitting explanation, but you suppose only further evidence gathered by the police will answer that question definitively.

"Wow." You stare at a fixed point across the room, your nails idly trailing over the soft blonde of his chest hairs, absent yet rhythmic. "Wow."

"Sorry, was that not the best time for me to be my usual, blunt self?" he questions, wincing slightly.

"No, no it was. What you said makes perfect sense, it's just so fucking unbelievable that I thought I'd seen the worst of him, and there was another level he could stoop to, apparently!" you cry, closing your eyes tightly, huffing, feeling like your head is about to explode.

He feels it in you, even more so when to remain awake, it means he has to feed on you again to fight the tired, deciding to offer you nothing more than the strong silence of his embrace. The quiet of him, that deadness inside that your daughter seems to find soothing, has exactly the same effect on her mother as well.

You didn't realise you nodded off until you awake with a start, sitting up to see II reading a book. While you might've slept, you feel no fresher for it at all.

"How long was I asleep for?" you ask, reaching for the bottle of water you always keep at the side of the bed and taking a few big gulps.

"Only about twenty minutes." Ahh, that's why, then. Cat naps have never sat particularly well with you. "Do you want me to go and run a bath for you? It might help you relax."

"Maybe later." Taking the book from his grasp, you shift to lie atop him, your tongue circling his nipple until it furls. "You have a particular brand of taking my mind off of something I don't want to think about, and that's what I want. What I need." Running your tongue up his chest, the lick glides up over his throat, ending when your lips meet his. "You. I just want you."

He doesn't need to be asked twice.

In a blink, you're flipped onto your back, the press of his hard body against yours sending the usual familiar blaze burning just beneath your skin. He stares down at you, and you feel your troubles melting away under the hypnotic blue that makes it difficult to think of anything but him.

Sitting up slowly, he reaches beneath your knees, pulling your legs until they rest upon his thighs as he sits back on his heels, his gaze falling to the sight of your splayed sex. He then lets a long trail of spit fall from his lips, chuckling deeply when it hits your clit, a grin tilting his mouth.

"Bullseye."

"Oh, you dirty old vampire," you hum, reaching to run your nails down his arms.

Leaning to you, he teases your lips with the tip of his tongue, kissing you with soft heat. "That's why you love me though, isn't it?"

"That and so much more," you nod, II pushing two fingers against your lips as he sits up once more.

"Suck them." You do, the instant obedience to his command sending a pleasant bolt through his chest. "Mm, good girl. You'll do exactly as I demand from now on, won't you?"

"Mmhm," you hum, flicking your tongue against the underside of his fingers. "Anything you want."

Pulling them from your mouth, he brings them to your folds, evoking a little gasp. "Do you want to know what I want the most?"

Your eyes flutter, rolling back in your head. "Tell me."

"To hold you down and watch you enjoy every last moment of it."

Oh, how you know that you will, feeling his hand move to gently clasp upon your neck, holding you beneath the gentlest of pressure. His other hand continues to stroke your folds, two fingers dipping inside to part the warmth of your walls. Your back arches, moaning in soft bliss, tingles suffusing from the press of his fingers, goosepimples rising over your skin.

He leans to you again, steals kisses from your lips hungrily, tongue invading your mouth like its owed presence there, his hand gently flexing in its hold upon your neck. A smile curls his lips, revealing the flash of a very gratified grin, II watching as you pant for him. “Mm, I love to watch it, how quick you get so mindless for my fingers, hear those pretty moans for me.”

How prettily you moan for him, too, your vampire chasing bolts of bliss through your core, fingers rooted deep in the soaking hug of your walls. You clench, and it makes him growl low, fangs popping as his eyes begin to burn red, imagining feeling the same sensation around his cock.

Burrowing them against your sweet spot, with the kind of merciless precision that sends glimmers suffusing beneath your skin, your hips snap upwards, greedy for more. He knows exactly what it is you keen for, but he makes you wait, chuckles at your need, kisses you messily with heat and sin.

He stares at you intently, tickling your cupid’s bow with the tip of his tongue, receding his fangs before biting it gently, letting your lip slide from between his teeth. The vermilion of his eyes is all but drowned by his blown-out pupils, his tongue circling a lick over your furled nipple, adding speed to his fingers as they begin to pound into you with vigour.

“Fuck, ahhh! Oh, right fucking there!” you cry, clasping his forearm, swallowing hard against the squeeze of his hand still clutching at your neck.

His lips press kisses, like a constellation of stars burning beneath your skin. “Like that?”

Deliberately, you feel his fingers slow, moving in a trawling wave, hitting you over and over in a ceaseless, intense press, robbing your voice from you. “Yes!” you eventually grit, a sharp wave of pleasure shimmering through you, smoky, wet kisses descending until finally, finally.

His tongue dips into your slit, circling with featherlight strokes upon your clit, fingers slipping from you and sinking into your thigh as he grips the muscle, dragging licks through your folds firm and slow, until you’re shaking from it. His fingers still hold your neck, the tips pressing in soft massage, showing the hint of a promise over how tight he could grip you, giving instead the suffusing burn of a gentler dominance.

Each lick is slow, deliberate, tongue warming against your slick, coaxing the fervent pleasure to burn slow and hot, kissing your bud softly before he wraps it in a languid suck. He groans, all gritted baritone as he feels you swelling against his tongue, tingles skipping up your spine as the pressure increases, the vacuum of his lips pulling tighter.

The sweet moans of delight arrow right to his cock, hardening further as he imagines sinking into the soft wet of you, content for that moment to continue sucking the honey of your cunt to trickle thick and hot onto his tongue. Releasing his suck upon you, quickly flickered licks bathe your tender nub, your thighs tensing as you gasp, hands moving to sink into his hair and grasp tightly.

His alternation has you panting hard, the hot, rhythmic roll of each lick sending a hail of little stars skittering over your nerves. The ecstasy of it flutters beneath your skin, nails trawling down his arm, II moving his hand up to slip his fingers into your mouth, emerging from your soaking folds to watch you suck them with a hungry, predatory gaze.

His other hand curls around the thick of his shaft, pumping, his clasp wringing precum to drip onto your mound. “Want me yet?”

“Mm,” you hum around his fingers, biting gently. “I always do.”

He shuffles closer, leaning to scatter kisses over the column of your neck, hands stroking blazing paths of heat over your body as you undulate beneath his touch. His hand then clutches your neck again, squeezing, holding you there as he guides the tip of his cock to your clit and swipes a slow circle against it, until you shake, until his trembles of need merge with yours.

The fat head of his cock presses against you, teasing your streaming, aching hole. It makes you mindless, hips shaking, thighs writhing against his hips as you wrap your legs around him, desperate to pull him close, pull him in. The promise of him filling you cuts sharp at your nerves, and he knows it, rubbing the length of himself through your folds, his cock soaked with you, twitching against your bud.

You think he’s going to make you wait even longer still, leaning to you, kissing you with dirty heat. Finally sinking deep into the wet of you, a burst of sound rumbles through his chest, sparks scraped against your aching walls.

“Fuck, oh my god, fuck! Your cock feels so good!" you babble, feeling drunk on the sensations he evokes already.

His grin is all satisfied smirk, looking down upon you so helplessly spread before him, the slow drag of his cock making you whimper. “You needed that, didn’t you?”

“God, yes I did!” you gasp, pulling him to you. Your mouth claims his, the kiss scorching, burning through you both as you feel him fill you fully, slipping back, that gorgeous, thick cock carving into you again hard. Your whine is drowned out by the depth of his groan, fingers flexing around your neck, holding you there at his mercy.

“Mmm, fuck me.” you pant against his mouth, your kisses a forest fire destroying everything in its path. Your purr has little flint strikes of pleasure sparking in his blood, the feel of him becoming uncontained with you quickly having heat smouldering low in your belly.

Usually, he’d give you more of a build, but he knows it, senses exactly how you need him to be, cock arrowing your insides with sharply delivered thrusts as his hand curls at your neck. His eyes burn virtually black as he stares at you unblinkingly, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip, cock splitting you wide, remaking you around him.

Heat sears through you, held there under the unyielding power of his grasp, pinned beneath his weight as he fucks you with merciless thrusts. Your cunt strains around the girth of him, coating his shaft and drenching him, his thumb moving to begin stroking tight circles of intense ecstasy over your clit.

It punches the breath from your lungs, watching the way his solid muscles tense, almost able to see how the pleasure coils up over him consumes his body like a curling viper. The way he fucks you borders on barbarity, lightning bolts striking through you, II leaning to bite one of your nipples with a carnivorous grunt.

Your slick heat begins fluttering around him, both of you chasing your releases, the violent twitching of his cock spilling deep within you as you cry out until you’re hoarse, clasping him to you. Sweaty, undone and unable to breathe, you’re aware of nothing else but the blaze he evoked as your walls pulse softly around him.

The hard bulk of him coming to rest atop you is steadying in the aftermath, his hand releasing your neck, lips scattering kisses as he holds you to him. You curl into him when he turns onto his side, blanketed in a strong cocoon of tattooed muscles.

He lets you cool down, the bliss ebbing away, pulling your leg up over his hip as he begins to slowly rock his hips back and forth again, filling and emptying you steadily, those warm wells of pleasure pouring in languid trickle down your spine.

Oh, how you have to love the zero recovery time of a vampire.

A hard push has him notched in deep, filling your needy little hole, his head tucked beneath your chin as he kisses your neck. “Gods above, you're so wet. Feel so fucking good.” he groans, hand smoothing up your thigh. The way he fucks himself into the soaking mess of you isn't lost in its tangency as he turs onto his back, driving his hips up from the bed to spear you with long, hard thrusts.

His hands clasp at your bum, keeping you gripped, holding you tightly against him as his cock rakes against every nerve ending, stoking the embers of your desire, kissing you with burning, lazy heat.

You can feel him beginning to shake beneath you, but he doesn’t speed up the trawl of his cock, the pursuit of orgasm undertaken with no greater effort or speed.

He groans low, sucking your tongue as you feel him push deeper, hands moving to run up your back and grasp your shoulders, panting into the fervent kisses you share. He moves his mouth to your neck, sucking a deep bruise onto your pale skin, fangs snapping, biting into you, the rush of desire evoked from feeding on you while he's buried so deep making his cock spasm with a hard kick.

“Mmm, that’s it, my gorgeous vampire,” you purr, those deep groans a little helpless, his muscles twitching. "Let me feel you come in me again."

That deep punch of his cock has you glimmering, moonbeams glowing over your nerves as you squeeze your thighs against his hips, hands clutching his thick biceps, cries torn from your throat.

You’re still cresting as you feel his cock pulsing in you, staring into the crimson storm of his eyes as he fills you with thick ropes of cum, stroking his face and nuzzling him. You whisper words of love, your brain a fuzzy fog of pleasure that throbs gently and ebbs away slowly, II kissing your forehead and carefully untangling himself from you once you've fallen asleep.

While you remain in slumber, he stays at your side for an hour before going for a shower and dressing. Moving downstairs, he smiles, following the noise of the jabbering and your mum's soft tones to the main lounge, finding Ivy lying beneath her baby gym, kicking furiously as she squeezes the toy that emits a series of squeaks.

She beams at him as soon as he comes into her eye line, squealing with excitement to see her daddy.

"My happy little girl," he speaks softly, looking to where your mum rises to her feet. "And her lovely nanny."

"Lovely but tired nanny," she confesses, smiling as he pulls her into a hug.

He drops a kiss atop her head, giving her a little squeeze. "I wasn't about to say it, but you do look shattered. If you want to go home, just say. I can take over with the baby."

"I'm fine," she speaks, patting his shoulder before they both sit down on the floor either side of Ivy, II reaching to let her grasp his finger. "Well, I'm not bloody fine, far from it, but I doubt I'd sleep even if I tried again. I kept poor Oliver awake for half the night, and he's had to go to work exhausted."

"That man adores you," he assures her. "Trust me, after last night I think he more than understands why you can't sleep. Grace only dropped off at just before eight. I hope she stays asleep, between being with Ivy all day and then trying to spend as much time as she can with us at night, coupled now with all this shit with Gary, she needs her rest."

She sighs, running her hand through her dark blonde hair, beginning to gather it all up and twist it into a messy bun she secures with the scrunchie previously around her wrist. "Is that really the man I married, II? God above, I just… I'm blank. Words fail me. When that nice police officer, what's his name, Eric?"

"Aric," he quickly corrects.

"Right, him. When he started mentioning terrorism, it just rocked me to bloody bits. Terrorism, Gary! Of all bloody people!"

He raises his eyebrows, widening his hands expressively. "That's what they call it when those kind of explosives come into play, especially too when the perpetrator has a political or ideological motive for it, which I very much think Gary did. He didn't want his daughter married to a family of vampires, so he sought to remove them. I think that was his plan, not to hurt either of you. I could be wrong, though, because the man is clearly out of his mind."

She nods, beginning to chew the edge of her thumb. "You're right, goodness knows what propaganda he was getting himself further brainwashed by, fuelling his existing persecution of your kind." Shaking her head, she reaches to stroke his face. "Thank goodness you're all fine. I love you all so much, and as the mother-in-law to vampires it's the last flippin' thing on my mind, having to worry about you dying!" she scoffs, eyes widening. "Immortal or not, I don't suppose there's much coming back from a bomb blast."

He hums a dark chuckle. "I wouldn't like to gamble on it, personally. I don't fancy being a head in a jar, like on Futurama."

Tanya snorts with laughter, reaching to smack his arm softly. "Don't even joke!"

"Made you laugh, though, didn't it?"

In truth, she really needed to. "It did, although it doesn't feel appropriate, given what we nearly faced." Mulling her words over for a second, she continues, picking up one of Ivy's soft, fuzzy bricks and handing it to her. "Although nearly is the operative word there. We're all fine, and he's currently languishing in a cell. Where he bloody belongs."

She'll go back and forth in her mood, he realises, because that is exactly how trauma works. Finding out that you ex-husband isn't the person you thought he was, to this kind of degree, definitely counts as a traumatic event. "That he does, sweet girl. But you have the love and strength of your family surrounding you, though. We'll get you through it, just as we did with your divorce."

Her smile is wide, reaching to stroke his arm fondly, her hand lowering to softly rub Ivy's back. "Thank you. If you're okay with little one by yourself, I think I might go and see if I can take a nap?"

II stands, gesturing in the direction of the door. "Don't let me stop you, we're fine. Is IV up yet? I can feel III has gone to rest."

It still feels strange for him, not to have a link there with his youngest sibling since he returned as a human. "Yeah, he's outside working out."

Your mum departs for the guest house, II taking Ivy in the direction of the back door. Scanning around in the boot cupboard, he finds the perfect thing to protect himself, putting up the massive golfing umbrella and stepping out into the daylight, the shade of it completely concealing him as he approaches where IV is doing sit ups on the patio.

"What the fucking hell are you doing outside?" he roars, eyes like saucers.

"Coming to see you, you twat," he sniffs, glancing upwards. "I'm nicely covered, too."

IV scrambles to his feet, pointing wildly at the back door. "Get the bloody hell back in, for fucks sake! What if there's a sudden break in the clouds and you get smacked with a beam of light?"

The vampire shrugs, looking around. "Not much chance of that, is there? It's December, and we live in England. I'm fine."

The pointing persists. "I'm done now, so if you can stop trying to give me a heart attack, I'd appreciate it!"

II sighs, walking back in through the doors and turning a corner before putting the umbrella down again, throwing it back where he found it as IV scowls at him. "Oh, you do love me, then?" he jokes, IV punching him in the back. "Oi, less of the violence when I've got the baby."

"I think the young people refer to it as being triggered," he huffs, shaking his head, II suddenly realising his folly.

"Ahh, fuck. Sorry, IV," he winces, "didn't think for a second there. I just wanted to come and find you, give little miss here some fresh air, too."

"Just let me take her out next time," he offers, "now I've got the tics under control with the microdosing."

Coming to a stop in the kitchen, II takes a seat, watching as Ivy grasps the pendant around his neck and begins playing with it. "Yeah, you haven't held her yet, have you?"

Turning to him, he crinkles his nose a little. "I ain't, no, but I'm all sweaty."

II shrugs. "Just don't drip on her." Handing her over, IV takes her with a smile, realising the gravitas of the moment in how he's had trust extended to him in holding the most precious thing there is to his sibling. Next to you, of course.

He might have only been returned home for two months, but in moments like this, it feels like he's never been away.

"Hello, small person," he chirps, Ivy looking up at him with a big, gummy grin. While she hasn't been held by him up until this point, she's certainly gotten used to his presence as one of her family, the cadence of his voice, the way he pulls the kind of faces that have her giggling brightly. "You poor little mite, looking more and more like your old man every day, eh? You'll be nearly as tall as him soon."

"Go fuck yourself," her father mutters, IV booming with laughter, Ivy joining in with some adorable baby chuckles. "Look, turning my own baby against me now!"

IV gives her a little tickle, evoking more giggles, smiling as he begins to laugh. He feels fortunate to have experienced this, welcoming a tiny human into the family as a human himself. Truly, though, it was more Ivy welcoming his return. Even so, if he'd never died, he'd have likely taken a minimal interest in the prospect of a human entering the family dynamic, cold and indifferent as he was towards them.

How, he wonders while smiling at the jabbering little one in his arms, anyone could be indifferent to something as lovely as her, he'll never know. She reminds him of sunshine personified, except for when she's howling so loudly, the sound could crack the crown moulding of whatever room she happens to be in.

"Right, you, back to your dad while I go shower and change." He kisses the top of her little blonde head, noting the little wisps of strawberry there, smiling. She might be II's double, but there are very noticeable traces of her beautiful mother right there, too.

Speaking of you, once he's shower fresh and dressed, IV creeps into II's bedroom quietly to drop a kiss atop your sleeping head.

"Love you, sugar." he smiles, leaving again just as quietly as he came. To see you still in slumber is a relief to him, knowing that the events of last night have taken a toll emotionally. This, coupled with your permanent exhaustion as a new mother means four sets of watchful eyes are going to do everything in their power to try and make life as easy as possible for you, going forward. Letting you sleep for as long as you need to being just one luxury their love and care will afford you.

Walking back through the house, his attention is grabbed by the call of 'I'm in here' just before he is about to pass the corridor leading to the library, IV swerving and heading down to join his sibling in his most sacred of spaces.

"Bloody hell, did you move these from Norton House, or repurchase?" he asks, his eyes flitting over the many shelves crammed full with books both old and new.

"I took the treasured volumes, but you know those come everywhere with me when we move," II begins, gently rocking Ivy before placing her in her bassinet to the side of the big Chesterfield sofa, one his sibling moves to and takes a seat upon. He joins him, smiling, reaching out to grip his arm. "With everything that's been going on, and my time so devoted to my daughter, I don't think we've had a moment just to sit together and talk, have we?"

"No, no we haven't," he replies, looking a little sheepish, scratching his neck as he looks away from the piercing gaze of his Viking sibling. "I'm sorry, II. You always said that if I struggled in my vampirism, or anything, I could have come to you. When Ves didn't wake up after the bonding, I should have done that, sought your wisdom, and I didn't. Sorry, I don't mean to like, get all serious, but I need you to know that."

It was what tormented him the most in the aftermath of his death, II lying broken on the kitchen floor, you, him and III in a heap of despair while the whole time, he had the same question ring through his head like a siren. Why didn't he come to him?

Opening his arms, he jerks his head back a little. "Fucking come here." IV shuffles nearer, feeling his chest tighten as they embrace. "I love you so bloody much. I meant it, you know, what I said to you all those years ago, up in Scotland, after the priest had been committed to the fucking ocean in a silver box."

IV grips him tighter, his eyes filling with tears as those very words echo back across the ages, replaying in his mind like a taped recording. 'You are strong, you are more than what happened to you. If you ever struggle with that, come to us. To me. We’re your family now, we’ll see you through it, no matter how dark or ugly. We’re here for you now, IV.'

"I know you did, but my head…" He pulls back, wiping his eyes on the heel of his palm. "Fucking so messed up. I'm good with it now, though. Ain't about to go off on any wild tangents. M, wherever she is, can take full credit for that. She's fucking wonderful, proper sorted it all out, that mess I carried and couldn't heal."

"When they can be trusted, witches are incredible creatures," II speaks, eyes looking upon him thoughtfully. "How do you feel about it all now? From the explanation we received upon your arrival home, I take you aren't bothered by it? There's no lingering trauma?"

A shaky hand gesture is made in response to those questions. "I still feel sad about it, for the little kid in me who went through that, but no, No more trauma. I don't blame myself for it any longer either, or think I'm worthless cos' of what I went through."

A wide smile broadens the vampire's mouth, reaching to grasp his wrist. "You've no idea how happy it makes me, hearing those words. If there is ever a time you need an ear, though, for whatever reason, there are two right here for you." His words are acknowledged with a nod, II continuing. "Are you planning on being turned straight away when you can be, then? February 6th? Bob'll shit bricks, with us having to go and dig a grave out there on the grounds. He's very particular about his grass."

"He ain't half!" IV barks on a laugh, eyebrows arching. "I got the sit down mower out the other day, thought it was dry enough to give it a trim down and he shooed me off it! And yeah, yeah I was gonna wait a bit longer, but I don't think I want to. Being human has its advantages in certain places, but like, I'm too used to being undead. I miss it. I think I'll feel really like me again as soon as I'm turned."

II sits back and attempts to imagine it, returning to this earth from the realm of the dead as a human. For him, being undead for the thousand plus years that he has been, it is simply unimaginable for him to recall an existence that wasn't gleamed with his immortality. "I think you will, too," he agrees. "It's the final piece in the puzzle to fall into place."

A warm flush of acceptance presses in around his heart, IV feeling restored for this moment in time with his elder sibling, a vampire he has always looked up to so highly. As a human, he was, after all, a famously fearless, ferocious man, a warrior who not only looked death square in the eye, but usually contemptuously spat in it, too.

They were worlds apart in how their lives shaped them. This time around, IV stands as a human much less broken, the fragile pieces that refused to mend now fully assembled back on a foundation which - while it will never be quite akin to II's - stands under a footing set to never break down beneath him again.

They sit in comfortable conversation for the remainder of the afternoon, the darkness drawing in and bringing with it both your waking after a blissful nine hours of sleep, as well as the presences of III and Ves.

"No, Sproggy Pants. No chewing the necklace," III speaks, trying to take it from Ivy's grasp. "Nope, Ivy! Abort, I'm wearing cologne, it doesn't taste good!" Smell good? God yes, he smells amazing. The taste? Oh, how your baby is about to fuck around and find out there. Bringing it to her mouth again, she gums it, III shaking with laughter before he explodes along with the rest of you at the sour, scrunched up face she pulls.

"You were warned, my little sweet!" you laugh, taking her from him and blowing a raspberry on her tummy.

"Since when have you worn a scent, other than stale sex?" IV snorts, raising an eyebrow.

"Since the wife decided she was feral for me in… what's it called?"

"Dark Cherry," you confirm. Of course, he paid no notice to the name. You just sprayed him in it and then spent a good few minutes huffing his neck like a drug addict. He cares not for the finer details, only the effect it has upon you.

You all move through to the kitchen shortly after, Ivy taking her bedtime feed while you lean back in Ves's embrace, the five of you chatting about the upcoming festive period.

"I've got some tequila blood!"

"Oh, fuck no," IV grumbles at III's declaration. "Not again, you know that stuff hits you harder than anything else!"

"Ahh, shut up! It'll be great, can't bloody wait. I fucking love wasted Christmas!" He then points between Ves and II, shaking with laughter. "You two, absolutely high as balls the first year Grace was with us, lying on the floor in the lounge, arguing over your hallucinations!"

Turning back to Ves, you snort a soft laugh, remembering it well. "I take it you'll be buying magic mushroom blood again this year, yeah?"

He hums, grinning widely. "I already have, darling. I am taking full advantage of the fact your wonderful mother has nominated herself as the sober person, so none of us have to worry about being on baby duty."

Indeed, you hugged your mum very, very tightly when she offered such recently, deciding to give the wine and beer a rest since she's been enjoying herself 'way too much for a woman of my age' as she worded it. Plus, your aunt Mel and uncle Chris will be coming up for the festivities, too, and if there is one thing she cannot do, it's keep up with her sister and brother-in-law. Your uncle has already vouched to begin lining up shots as soon as he's through the door.

Some people, like your mum, realise that age counts against them with the excess of too much boozy fun. Your aunt and uncle? Not so much.

After bringing up Ivy's wind, you take her up to bed just as Ves receives a telephone call, the reason behind which revealed to you upon your return to find them all in the main lounge.

"That was Aric on the phone, just bringing us up to speed with the case against your father," he begins, steepling his fingers together as you take a seat between IV and III. "Your dad's initial co-operation dried out mid-second interview, but after liaising with Argyll and West Dunbartonshire police, the B&B was raided earlier this morning and a mountain of evidence found. He, as II deduced, had links to various anti-vampire organisations. The hard drive of his computer is still being assessed, but what they tentatively assume so far through items they have discovered is that he planned this to be a suicide bombing. His plan, it appears, was to feign car trouble and get as many of us vampires as he could out to help him with it, all in timing with the pre-determined detonation."

At hearing this, your blood runs cold, the once relaxed atmosphere of the house seeming to thicken considerably at the revelation of his awful, hideously cruel plan to eradicate as many of your husbands as he could. His plan coming to fruition doesn't bear thinking about, the only reason why he wasn't being that your dad and his temper can seldom be negotiated with. It was seeing Oliver there with you mum that saved their lives, yet another reason to be thankful for him coming into hers in the way that he did.

"In the words of my favourite aunt, shitting hell," you breathe, leaning into III's space, his arms coming around you as IV rests a supportive hand to your thigh. "I really don't know what else to say."

"Take your time with it, babe," the former speaks quietly, pressing a kiss atop your head. "It's a fucking lot to get your head around."

The room and everyone in it awaits your further thoughts in silence, although you can see their own thoughts on it simply by reading their faces. II looks like he wants to storm the police station and show in brutal detail just why he was known as Magnus the Bloody, Ves simmers with the quiet rage that never fails to set you on edge, III bounces his leg in agitation and IV frowns deeply, his eyes fixed on a point across the space.

"It is a lot, but I don't want it." You look at all of them in turn, your smile fond. "He didn't win. I still have you all, and he's lost everything. I don't want to give that vile man a second of my thoughts. He isn't worth my time."

Ves lifts his chin, smiling at you with proudness. "I think that is the correct attitude to adopt, my darling. Humans such as him are mere wasted breath."

"Even so," II grits, clenching his fists. "I still want to take a hatchet to his skull."

Unsurprising, really. You eyes find his, puckering your lips in a kiss, your Viking winking, his mouth flickering into a half smile. "I think after everything, I'd do little to stop you, if it was a perfect world and you could do it and not be caught. But yeah, what Ves said is right. He's wasted breath."

A few moments of silence pass between you again, only the sound of the fire flickering filling the huge space, III suddenly pointing. "Fucking hell, look!"

Four sets of eyes turn to follow his finger, and your face lights up in an instant. "No! It is not bloody snowing!"

"Hm, the weather forecast did say that the snow storm hitting the south of Wales might indeed make its way further into the mainland," Ves speaks, rising too.

In England, for it to be snowing so heavily in December in this part of the country is a rarity, but there it is, fluttering down in a beautiful cascade of pure white from the inky skies above. Standing, you move to the window, someone racing rapidly to switch off the lights in order to get the best view of the snowfall before the four of them join you at the window.

"It looks even more beautiful out there, covered in white." II speaks, watching the flurry gaining momentum. The snows he has witnessed in the UK do not even touch the frigid wastelands his home country turn into come winter, but at least now he can appreciate them in much more comfortable surroundings than when he was human.

Looking out over the estate, you smile, leaning to rest your head against IV's shoulder, wrapping your arm around him, the other reaching to stroke Ves's back while you all stand silently and appreciate the sight. The loveliest one, though, you have to say, is what the window reflects back. You, your four husbands, with a roaring fireplace and a Christmas tree twinkling away in the background.

If there was ever a sight worth appreciating for all it's simplistic beauty, it's that.

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