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Fandom: Ikemen Vampire
Characters: Theo/Female MC
Rating: E - explicit
Warnings: 18+, NS/FW, biting, dirty talk
Summary: After a bad day, the only thing he wants is her.
5k words of absolutely no plot - just the smuttery that happens when Theo's woman wears his shirt. (This is my BELATED part of the exchange set up by @ikemenlibrary for the lovely @princessranran - life threw me for a crazy loop this week but I'm happy to finally get this to you!)
It wasn’t the door’s fault, Theo had to remind himself. Staying his hand before it slammed the broad entrance of the manor shut in what he knew would have been a thunderous crash, and instead closing it with a soft snick of sound. Not the door or the house or his own or anyone’s fault that there still existed pigheaded people even in this so-called ‘enlightened’ day and age.
The sour dregs of the failed meeting with his latest client still sat bitter on his palate as he shucked his long jacket and cap, shaking them out and hanging them meticulously as if seeking some measure of calm in the rote ritual. His urge to murder someone barehanded had faded by the time he finished, but his foul mood still persisted.
He knew there was only one place, and one person in this house, who could truly do anything about that.
His long strides ate up the length of stairs and corridors that led to her room, feet unerringly finding the way after all these repeated trips, and by the time he’d lifted his hand to knock at her door the worst of his fury had banked itself and a different sort of fire was stoking deep in his belly. One born of anticipation and the intimate knowledge of just how divinely one woman’s blood gilded his tongue.
“Hondje,” he called as he rapped softly on the wood panels of her door, still not wanting to wake her if she slept. He wasn’t that much of an ass. “Are you up?”
There was a sliver of light beneath her door that had given him hope, and he soon heard the whisper of sheets being thrown back and the soft pad of bare feet on hardwood approaching the door. She opened it, only to lean against the doorjamb, her arms crossed and a crooked grin tilting her lips that made everything wrong with the world suddenly seem somewhat more right.
“Well hello, what a surprise,” she drawled playfully in greeting. “You’re back rather late.”
“Hello yourself. Nice sleepwear,” he rumbled back, one brow arching slightly as he took in her state of dishabille and the very familiar garment she wore.
The only garment she wore, he realized. His own button-up, looking comically large and more akin to a shift than a shirt on her.
Whatever warmly spiced soap and shampoo she had used in her bath wafted towards him, mingling with the lingering remnants of his own cologne that clung to the fabric she wore - the combination hitting him like a soft punch to the gut that had him stifling an involuntary groan. A streak of possessiveness that he’d be ashamed of on a good day rearing its head like a lion scenting blood on the wind, licking its chops.
The rational part of his brain told him it was a very, very bad idea to step past her into the room proper, not with this on top of how keyed up he was right now...but that did almost nothing to stop him from doing so anyways.
“You don't look in a state to be receiving company,” he observed pointedly, not bothering to hide the way his eyes lingered on the long bare line of her legs peeking out from beneath the hem of his shirt.
She laughed softly, leaning into the doorway, perhaps exaggerating a bit the cant of her hips as if knowing he would be watching. Or at least hoping he would be. “I wasn’t planning to go anywhere other than back to bed,” she answered. “Why? Were you coming by for a very late afternoon tea?”
His mouth went more than a bit dry at the realization that she actually did wear the damn shirt to bed. Rolling about in her sheets, leaving his scent all over the place. His response took longer to formulate than it should have, with that thought in his head and the way she posed in front of him, white broadcloth scarcely covering the pert curve of her rear.
“Something like that,” he managed finally, watching transfixed as she turned away. “Hondje...” Her growled nickname was a warning of some sort, although Theo couldn't have said whether it was for her or for himself. “You don't really sleep in that, do you?”
She blinked, stopping mid-spin to turn towards him, pausing for a moment before she lifted her gaze to his face. “Of course I do,” she replied, arching one brow up at him. A grin tugged at one corner of her lips, painting a wicked expression over her face. “Though… that’s not the only thing I do in it.”
He froze at that, eyes fixed on the sinful smile that touched her lips as what little scrap of sense and reason he had left died an ignoble death. It only took him one long stride to close the gap between them, turning her back around and closing the door of her room in a single harried motion, hands pressing against the door on either side of her shoulders as he crowded her back and made a loose cage of his arms.
“And just what else is it you do in my shirt, hondje? Rubbing my scent all over that pretty, smooth skin of yours?” The question was dragged almost reluctantly from him, already rough voice tattered even further by the mental images his unruly mind was conjuring. Bending his head he pulled in another slow lungful of the intoxicating combination, the breath leaving his body on a low rasp as he pressed his nose against the pale strands of her hair and pressed her even closer to the door behind her.
She tilted her head, leaning back into the solidity of the wall he trapped her against. If she wanted, she could break free - they both knew that. But running didn’t seem on her mind at the moment. Her hands came up between them, fingers snagging in the material of the shirt he wore now, pulling it free of the waistband of his pants to trace over the ridges of his pronounced muscles beneath. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she skated her palms up the broad spread of his chest and then down again, leaving furrows of fire that seared his skin in her wake.
“When I wear this shirt,” she began, words snagged by the first burr of desire. “I think about you when I get myself off. I hope you’re planning to let me keep it,” She made a small sound like a purr, an impish light her eyes. “Although I’m sad to realize the smell of you has faded a bit."
Her words drew a muffled snarl from him that soon faded into a dark laugh. He curled one hand around the back of her neck with the barest flexing of fingers, and angled a grin full of fang down at her. “I could always give you the one I'm wearing now.”
Dropping his head he traced behind the soft curve of one ear with the tip of his nose, flicking his tongue out to taste her skin, feeling more than a bit drunk on the way she swamped his senses. “We should move this elsewhere,” he said against her neck, the sharp points of his teeth rasping over the fragile surface with each word. “Or I swear by everything holy I'm going to fuck you against this door, right where everyone can hear it.”
“I don’t care what they hear,” she replied, her voice a husky purr of sound that whispered against his ear. “But I want you in my bed. I want my sheets and pillows to smell like you too. So I can think about you when I have to sleep alone.” She closed her teeth against the tender lobe of his ear, tilting her head so the sharp points of his fangs dug deeper against her skin as if testing his willpower, drawing a tremble through her.
“Maybe…” she murmured. “We can trade shirts like you offered. That way you can wear this one now that it smells like me.” She grinned as she pressed the lone of her body tighter against his, inching his vest upwards to toy with the buttons beneath. “Whenever you put it on you can think about fucking me. Think about the way my hands felt on your cock.” Her fingers trailed back down, cupping her palm against him through the pants he still wore, and his breath stung as he sucked it in hard. “Or perhaps my lips,” she amended, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against his throat, breath hot against the riot of his pulse.
Theo barely strangled the groan her touch and words elicited, hips arching towards the stroke of her hand as the fingers behind her neck moved to tangle in her hair. Tugging sharply he pulled her from the kisses she was pressing to his neck, dropping his own head to capture her mouth before her parted lips had a chance to close.
Wine lingered sweet on her breath and he chased the taste deeper, tongue tracing the edges of her teeth and meeting her own, savoring the way it mingled with the sweet flavor of simply her. His free hand dragged her closer, hips grinding lazily against hers for a moment before he hooked his grip beneath her knees and hauled her up into his arms, walking them both away from the wall and into the room proper.
Theo gently tossed her atop the expansive mattress and toed his boots off quickly, peeling the vest over his head before climbing up as well to loom on all fours over her, a smirk tilting his lips.
“I'll take that trade,” he said in belated reply to her offer, smoothing a deliberate hand beneath the hem of her (his?) shirt and along the slim line of her thigh, lifting the fabric slowly as he went. “You go first though.”
She sprawled back on the cool expanse of the sheets, hair fanning out behind her as she reached for him in turn. Her fingers flew along the line of his buttons, opening them to spread the placket wide so that she could trace along the waistband of his pants. The skate of her nails along the ridged muscles of his abs as the other hand slid up his thigh where he poised above her drew goosebumps on his flesh.
The shirt his wandering hand inched ever upwards bared a wealth of smooth skin covered only by a scrap of cloth masquerading as underwear. She was forced to draw her touch from him to spread her arms so that he could fully remove it.
Once freed, she lifted her hands to frame his face, thumbs brushing over the line of his jaw. She tugged him close as she arched up off the bed to draw him into another kiss, teeth scraping against his lower lip until he parted them for her. She traced the points of his fangs with her tongue, deepening the kiss until his lungs burned for air and the hands clutched at his shoulders slid down his back to snag into the cotton fabric of his shirt, tugging it impatiently.
Sitting back on his heels, Theo grasped the shirt she’d almost entirely removed and and finished tugging it off, tossing the garment to one side before leaning over her again. The planes of his stomach knotted as he bent, her frame dwarfed beneath him as he reached down to trail rough fingertips up the silk of her leg from ankle to the lone bit of delicate fabric she still wore. It snagged on the slightly calloused skin of his hand as he cupped the heated mound beneath, working the heel of his hand in slow absent circles. The cool blue of his eyes heated, pupils going wide and dark as his gaze wandered the lines and angles of her bare body, dwelling on the perfect rise of each breast.
A soft rumble of anticipation shook his chest as he ducked down to lick along the sweet clean skin of her neck, pausing to rasp teeth over the ridge of her collarbone and linger on the fluttering rhythm of the pulse cradled in its hollow. Ten, a dozen, a hundred...he lost track of how many beats he counted beneath his tongue as the hand nestled between her thighs worked against her, dipping fingers just beyond the side of the satin and lace to tease them both with the damp warmth he found there and the intoxicating rush of her blood just below her skin.
Burying a soft groan against her throat he moved lower, past the faint valley of her chest to circle lazily around the dusky pebble of one breast, the barest hint of salt reaching his mouth as desire warmed her skin beneath him. Closing his lips over the tempting peak at last he drew on the puckered flesh, softly at first and then harder, until the points of his teeth pressed against her tender skin and he had to fight against the urge to bite down. To leave some remnant of himself in that intimate place.
She tipped her head back, lips falling open around the soft cries that ushered from between them. Her fingers dug into his back, nails raked furrows that only egged him on, her whole body shifting restlessly beneath him. The cool bedsheets had gone warm beneath them, but it was the heat of his body above that pulled a flush to her skin and curled the fine hairs at her scalp with sweat.
Her hips arched up off into the bed, pressing into the weight of his hand, forcing the lace harsher against her. The muscles in her thighs trembled in anticipation, and she let out a small whimper of frustration at the teasing brush of his callused fingers against her damp center.
Theo's lips curved in a gratified smirk against her skin as her mewling reached his ears, and the fingers worked beneath the edge of her panties curled to hook and slide them slowly down the line of her legs, before he drew them from beneath her to toss carelessly aside. Relinquishing his latch on the sweet rise of her breast he began kissing a path lower, nuzzling into the trembling flesh of her stomach as he passed, enjoying the way her muscles and body quivered beneath him.
His fingers slid through the slick folds of her cleft, circling the small spot hidden within as he moved far enough down to settle between her legs, raking teeth gently along the satin skin that lined her inner thigh. "You smell so sweet," he murmured against the crease where her leg and hip met, hands urging her knees over his shoulder before slipping beneath the curve of her rear. "Like honey. I bet you taste even better, though."
He flicked his tongue over the heat of her slit, just a whisper of touch that gathered the first hint of her in his mouth, and a quiet snarl rose in his throat before he bent his head further and laved the damp flesh again, eager for more.
He rolled his gaze up to see her lift her head, watching him settle in between her legs, eyes gone dark with desire until the first whisper of his breath against her had her falling back against the pillows once more, lips parting in a near silent murmur of approval. The fingers she'd wound through his hair tightened, urging him closer, but they soon fell from his head. Clutching and twisting at the bed sheets instead as she lifted her hips into each stroke of his tongue, each heated press of his mouth, each wicked scrape of his fangs.
Her soft desperate sounds tore at him, shredding his resolve to savor the experience. As the tip of his tongue traced the small swell of her over and over again he ran fingers through the slick wetness of her, finding her entrance and plunging past to curl within her impossible heat. A low growl of pleasure passed from him to her, shaking between them as his hips moved restlessly against the mattress beneath him. His cock ached, but it became a secondary concern as his eyes fixed up the line of her body, drinking in the way she thrashed and moaned, every heaving breath that shook her perfect breasts. His hands and mouth sped their motions - wanting nothing more at that moment than to watch her come apart with his hands and tongue buried inside her.
Like a bow strung too tightly she released, tipping over the edge with sudden furious force. His name fell like an incantation from her lips, fingers scrabbling helplessly at the sheets as her body trembled around him. Muscles were left twitching in the wake of her orgasm, ribs heaving as she fought to catch her breath and calm the heart he could see thundering in her chest.
Sitting up slowly, Theo dragged his tongue over her swollen spent body one more time before licking the last flavor of her from his fingers with a wordless satisfied hum. Swiftly he stripped what remained of his own clothes before crawling up to stretch out beside her, one large hand splaying over the nip of her waist as he propped his head on the other to stare down at her. There were few things as erotic as the sight of a woman coming back into herself, pleasure still glossing her eyes and flushing her skin, and he studied her for long moments before bending his head to nose at the strands of her hair, listening as her breathing finally slowed.
"I seem to remember you saying something about your hands, and my cock," Theo purred at last, lacing her fingers flat between his own and trailing their combined touch slowly over the rise of his chest, down the taut-ridged plane of his stomach to curl lightly against the lurid jut of his arousal. His own grasp fell away, leaving hers behind, and he arched lazily off the bed in silent supplication. Wanting to feel her small fist squeezing around himself. "Touch me, hondje."
She wrapped her hand around him, scooting closer on the bed, turning on her side so that she could better see him. She leaned in to press her nose against his throat, pulling the scent of him into her lungs as she nuzzled there, tongue darting out to taste his pulse. She pressed the pad of her thumb against the broad head of his erection, catching the first bead of moisture that had gathered there and spreading it over him as she traced a path back down to the base of him. Cupping the heavy weight of his balls she scraped her teeth against his neck.
"Lie on your back," she murmured, nipping down. "I want to wrap my lips around you."
The breath caught in his throat, fresh frissons of heat skittering through his veins with every slide of her grip along him, every wicked nibble at his throat and the added pressure of her hand against his already aching groin. He rolled onto his back, pillowing his head on folded arms, and stared hotly down at the sight of her small fingers wrapped around himself, anticipation singing through him.
Turning his head he pressed his face against the cloud of her hair before she moved away, drawing another sweet lungful of her spicy, intriguing scent.
On a wicked smile, she shifted down the bed to sprawl on her belly between his legs. She lingered there a moment, tracing patterns along the tensed muscles of his thighs, brushing teasingly over him, testing the thickness of him beneath her palm. Scooting up on her knees to get a better position she took him fully in her grasp. Her small hand gripped the base of him, fingers squeezing as she lowered her head. Her warm breath feathered against the tip of his erection as she poised there a moment, pale hair falling in silky strands around her, and he thought for one wild second that he might die with want of her. Before she spared him, her tongue darted out, pressing firmly against the broad head of his cock and gathering the flavor she found there.
She mapped a path over the soft velvet of his skin with her tongue before closing her lips firmly around him. The air hissed between Theo's clenched teeth as she drew him past the pink bow of her lips, far into the hot wetness of her mouth, tongue flickering along his shaft like a flame.
His fingers wove through the locks of hair that trailed like skeins of silk over his thighs, winding a length of it in his tightly clenched hand as he cradled the back of her head, fighting the urge to do more than arch gently into the intoxicating warmth of her. Squeezing his eyes shut, her name fell from his lips in a guttural moan.
It was too much, and not enough. The temptation was strong to let the last frayed strands of his control unravel, to spend himself right here and now, but he wanted to reserve that for the pleasure between her supple thighs he'd taunted himself with earlier. Choking back another snarled iteration of her name he twisted his other hand into the thick rope of her hair and tugged her mouth gently up and away from himself, aching at the loss of her warmth.
“Wicked woman. Any more of that and I'll be useless to you.” One swift motion had her flipped beneath him, a hand hooking under one knee to spread her legs as he settled between them. He stared down at her for long moments, hips working slowly against the cradle of her own, the moisture she'd left on him and her own dewy heat causing them to slide against each other tortuously. “So beautiful. You’re priceless, shatje, do you know that?”
He drew back far enough to plunge home on a hard surge, dropping his head with a groan into the crook of her neck as the wet velvet warmth of her closed around him. The breath he drew was heady with the scent of him cologne all over her skin, and he licked at the pulse that had fluttered against his cheek, dragging the points of his fangs over her again and again as he began to slowly thrust. “You smell like me. Like us,” he growled against her, face still buried against her throat, the words more instinct than conscious thought. “Are you mine?”
The words he murmured into the air between them, sounds full of snarl, had her meeting his dark gaze with her own. Her eyes blurring and unfocused when he pressed snug against her. She lifted her hips to meet his thrust, body closing eagerly around him. Her hands drifted over his back, threading into his hair as he spoke, tilting her head to bare more of the tender skin to the scrape of his fangs and lips.
“I’m yours,” she agreed, the words breathless, lashes fluttering shut at a particularly deep thrust. She dragged her nails down his back, digging them into the muscles there, curling over his backside eagerly. “Harder,” she whimpered, part plea, part demand. “I’m all yours, Theo.”
Her soft moan of assent and the way she panted his name tore through him, eroded what little restraint he still clung to. On a ragged groan he took the ridge of her shoulder between his teeth and bit down, the sweet tang of copper that touched his tongue speeding the steady pace of his hips as he drew greedy mouthfuls before laving the harsh marks left behind. Savoring the way her breaths ratcheted up to near sobs. Rearing up he wrapped broad hands around the elegant wings of her hipbones, lifting her backside off the mattress and tilting it up towards him, the new angle forcing him further inside her with every harsh thrust.
“Mine,” he reiterated, eyes boring hotly down into her dazed stare as he churned against her. Fingers wandered over the shallow hollow cupped by her pelvis, delving down into the first parting of her folds to curl again and again, desperate to feel her shatter before the waves of pleasure that rippled up his spine stole his release from him.
He made it scarcely a handful of fitful thrusts more as she trembled around and beneath him, the sound of her breaking as bewitching as any siren’s song before the cord of his own control snapped, the reverberations of his sudden fierce climax shuddering through him for long breathless moments. Catching himself on one hand he slumped forward, heavy breaths stirring the tiny curled hairs at her temple before he rolled to one side, drawing her slight form half-atop him so that their pounding chests pressed together.
Twisting a lock of hair idly around his fingers he circled her waist with his other arm, holding her against him as he hummed wordless satisfaction, nose against the top of her head. “No sugar is ever as sweet as you,” he grinned, stretching slightly beneath her for emphasis as he worked tight muscles loose again.
She smiled against his shoulder where her head had fallen, the muscles in her thighs still twitching as she laid bonelessly against him for long moments, warm breath stirring against his skin. Sliding one arm across him, fingers twining into the hairs at the base of his skull, she propped herself up to gaze down at him appreciatively. “I like the way you look in my bed,” she said, leaning in to feather her lips along the line of his jaw, the corner of his mouth, nipping at his lower lip.
He watched her slow assessment with a lopsided smirk, her evident approval stoking his male pride. Chuckling at her proclamation he turned his head far enough to catch her mouth in a slow kiss, smoothing a hand up the satiny stretch of her back to curl over a shoulder. “I like the way you look in your bed,” he shot back with a grin, letting his own gaze and fingers wander the expanse of her flawless skin and delicate features idly.
Closing her eyes she kept one hand tangled in his hair while the other drew idle patterns with her fingertips over his shoulder and down his arm. “Do you mind me using you as a mattress?” she asked, opening one lazy eye to peer up at him.
Stroking a hand down to the curve of her hip, Theo laughed at her cheeky reply and hauled her more firmly atop him, reaching down to snag the bunched covers and pull them up over their shoulders. “Not if you don't mind me using you as another blanket.” He let the strands of her hair slide between his fingers, spicing the air with their fragrance, and his breath slowed with each inhale.
He wondered if she knew just how much these moments meant to him. The solace she brought. The words to tell her rose in his throat and then died again at the sight of her lashes curved into perfect dark halfmoons on her cheeks.
Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow, he’d tell her how he could brave anything the world threw at him, as long as he had this space inside her arms. As long as she smiled, it would all be okay.
And…if he didn’t manage then, that would be alright. He’d spend the rest of his countless, miraculous days making sure she knew. It seemed, if anything, a worthwhile use of forever.
Absolutely not, I love having a lot of character development and relationship building before smut. It makes me feel more emotionally invested in the story and makes the sexy times feel genuine and not pandering beacuse now I'm invested in the pairing.
Plus you're writing is amazing and if it took 40k words before there was smut it still would be just as engaging as a 1k words before smut wait
Thank you so much anon!!!
I also love some good development- my concern was with the fact that the relationship is already established (this is for the Traveler) and I don't want it to feel like the first part is dragging on... but at the same time, a lot happens! So I'm going to stick with what I have due to yours and everyone else's kind words :")
I suppose that the first part of the chapter could also be seen as more development, too, in terms of bonding! So thank you again for this sweet message <3