#vampire!ghost

mdni. blood. dubcon/noncon. horror. dark fantasy. breeding kink.

There’s a blood brothel beneath the streets of London.

Thank god that hes got you, then. A werewolf that is basically a human space heater. Ur more than willing to drape over the lieutenant at any moment, scenting against his neck and chest.

Mostly he just has you lean against his side, either in the mess or during meetings bc for some reason admin loves to keep those places freezing. Ghost gives you the occasion head pats or ear scritch as thanks, the small gesture enough to get ur tail wagging like hell.

But during the colder months, when snow blankets the entire base, its almost guaranteed ghost will grab u from whatever ur doing and drag you to his room. This is your favourite time, because he lets you crawl all over him and and rub ur face against him as much as you want.

"This is... certainly most unusual." the blonde woman commented slowly, her eyes glued to your form as you sat quietly on the giant’s lap.

They had you inside their massive black van now, seated on plush seats in the back while someone named Laswell analyzed you. Despite their attempts to rock you to sleep, anxiety and nerves had left you frozen in König’s arms the entire time as you waited for the car to arrive.

And this woman was freaking scary!

They all were, of course, but you had thought that another girl would make you feel more at ease.

THAT WAS NOT THE CASE.

She wasn’t particularly tall for a vampire, but she was still easily bigger than any human woman you had ever met. Her eyes were red, like any other vampire’s, though hers were much lighter—muted. She was blonde, her hair tied in a low bun adorned with red and black jewels.

And you were pretty sure they were real jewels, considering she was also dressed to the nines. While the other two wore more military/action-heavy clothing—despite their outfits also looking very expensive—this woman was dressed in a snug black suit. No tie, but more importantly, no undershirt. Just a blazer that left a bit of her cleavage exposed.

It made you blush a bit when you realized what you were seeing.

She also just looked imposing, one hand against her mouth as she stared down at you on König's lap with intelligent eyes.

"She refuses to sleep or relax." König muttered in that heavy, low voice of his, making you try to look up at his covered face once again.

He didn’t seem to mind your movement or curiosity—only making sure that you remained seated on his lap and didn’t attempt to run.

“I have never seen a fledgling like this.” Horangi hissed under his breath, his voice taut with unease. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest, standing beside Laswell. “Who would be foolish enough to mistreat a fledgling here? This is our territory. Who would dare?”

“I have never seen such a vicious turning bite…” Laswell murmured slowly, lowering herself slightly to take your face in her grasp. Her long nails tapped lightly against your skin as she tilted your head upward, exposing more of your neck. “This will be taken to tribunal. A crime of this nature is not merely an offense—it is an abomination.”

The way her face scrunched up in genuine disturbance made you realize that this situation might be more serious than you had first anticipated.

König’s hand rose to your neck, his grip gentle yet firm as he held your head in place, keeping your throat exposed. His other hand moved to the buttons of your polo shirt, undoing them one by one to widen the opening, revealing more of the strange, crack-like marks on your skin.

“...It was a method of torture, in old Europe.” König murmured, his voice thick with his accent as he examined the bite himself. Where the teeth had torn through flesh, the marks spread in jagged streaks, making it impossible to tell where the bite had first landed. “Vampires’ venom would be harvested from their enemies and injected into humans—forcing a fledgling transformation within the depths of torture chambers.”

“Right. But that’s what puzzles me—the sire.” Laswell drawled slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought and quiet disdain as her fingers continued to trace your damaged skin with unsettling gentleness. “It is instinctual for a sire to care for their fledgling… yet it is clear this was not done with a mere syringe. These marks—this wound—suggest it was inflicted by the sire themselves.”

"Ah...!" You flinched slightly as her finger brushed over a particularly sore spot, but you couldn’t pull away, not with König still holding your head in place.

The woman immediately withdrew her hand, crossing her arms neatly as she examined you for a few moments longer.

"She's conscious enough to feel this?"

“Surprisingly, yes, she seems to be.” Horangi replied, kneeling to meet your eyes, his right hand coming up to rest lightly on your lap. “I can’t even fathom how, but I’m almost certain she’s somewhat coherent.”

“Coherent." Laswell repeated, her brow raised—not questioning, but emphasizing.

“She is speaking. We asked her about her sire, and she didn’t know how to answer. I’m not sure if it’s the usual confusion from young fledglings who’ve just been turned, or if she truly doesn’t understand what it means, but she was able to comprehend us enough to answer verbally.”

That made Laswell let out a short bark of laughter, utterly flabbergasted. The surprised look on her face only made you feel even more unsettled.

“No, it’s the last option.... I don’t know what a ‘Sire’ is...!” you protested weakly, your small hands coming up to try and pry König’s grip from your neck.

Your first coherent phrase since they took you caused all three of their heads to snap toward you, their eyes drilling into your still annoyed and frightened expression.

“What...?” The blond woman stared at you, her face showing the most surprise it could muster. “She... is she actually sound of mind right now?”

"Yes...? I mean, I don’t see why I wouldn’t be, it’s just—goddammit, let go!" You cut yourself off, whining in frustration up at König as you struggled to make him move his hand from your neck. He hesitated for a moment but eventually relented. "Thank you..."

"She's actually coherent... has it ever happened with a fledgling so young?" Horangi mumbled in silent shock, still kneeling beside you. Even with the partial mask and glasses, you could see the frown on his face.

"It doesn’t matter. We’re taking her to the Coven right now." Laswell shook her head, speaking quickly as she climbed into the front seat of the van, starting the vehicle. "We need to get her to the rehabilitation center as soon as possible. I’m afraid her transformation is going wrong."

"I-I don't think-"

You are interrupted as you let out a loud cry, Horangi's hand pressing just slightly over the markings on your shoulder.

"She's pumped full of venom, this is almost... unnatural...." He hisses slightly, expression furrowing in uneseaness. "She was supposed to be out cold at least for two weeks straight, four at most."

"C-Can you stop touching it...??" You whine a bit in pain, shoving his hand away with your much smaller one. "This hurts..."

He stares back at your face for a bit, still seemingly unsure about your conciousness, but he nods once and sits back on his calves, staring at you with a focus that made you squirm in place.

"Fledgling." The heavy voice above you made you look up at König, frowning a bit. "Here, follow my hand."

You could only frown more as he put his hand in front of you, snapping his fingers to call your attention. You stared at it, unsure, watching it go up and down, side to side, all the while snapping. It made you feel like a dog, but you could actually feel your slow reaction time on this.

"She's very cognitive for a just-turned, but for normal paramitres, she's having a slow reaction time." Horangi commented, still watching you closely as you tried to keep up with König's hand.

"Ask her questions, let's see how coherent she is. Even if I don't like it, there's must be answers we can get from this." Laswell commented from the front of the van, speeding up at bit too much for it to be safe.

Not that any of them seemed to care about road safety right now.

"I-I can understand you all just fine, I'm just a bit tired...." You murmur back, giving up on following König's hand as you started to feel a bit nauseus.

Horangi hummed at your words, quiet and considering, staring at your little form still being held by König.

"When were you transformed?"

"Uhh... like, bitten...? Like, a week ago..."

That gained you a big pause inside the van, the three of them staying in apperantly quiet shock. The van was going even faster now.

"By who?" König almost snarled, his hand tilting your head up to look at him properly. "Stop pulling on my head all the time... this actually hurts..." You mumbled back, trying to pull his heavy hand away from your head and neck area. "And you think I know who did this...? I have no idea...!"

König only let out a low growl, clearly unamused, but it was Horangi who called your attention back to the matter, snapping his fingers to make you look at his face — or rather, his glasses, in this case.

"Can you describe them?"

"No, it was dark and I have no idea what that vampire looked like, h-he was covered from head to toe too...." You frowned, also not very amused by your situation. "I-I... look, I'm really confused, if you could... I mean... where... where are we going...?"

"The Coven." Laswell answered easily, seriously, still speeding up through the streets. You wished you could see outside right now, but here was no windows in the back of the van. "And to the nursery."

"What even is that...?" You whine softly, unsure, leaning slightly forward to try and look at Laswell. "L-Look, I have school, a-and work, could we just... be quick about it?" "Fledgling, you have no idea the gravity of your situation." Horangi commented slowly, shaking his head. "This is your life we're talking about. You might die, if we are not quick enough. And by our laws..."

It rlly takes the “I’m a monster” wind out of ghost’s sails when soap is following him around asking to try and make soap punch himself to prove some sort of mental strength

ommgg this was lost in my drafts 😭 Its like finding cash in the couch omg. n e way. happy halloween? this uhhhhh this turned smutty ...

cw: smut! blow job. sorta cnc - Johnny wants Simon to order him around with the thrall.

Ghost had hoped the whole being-buried-alive fiasco would be the worst of it.

Clawing out of the dirt with lungs that didn’t need air anymore… realizing his heart hadn’t picked up its old rhythm… feeling that strange, cold clarity under his skin where warmth used to live. That alone should’ve been enough horror for one lifetime.

The thrall, though... that had been a whole new hell.

He rarely used it. Refused to.

But of course it happened on a mission gone bad. Too many enemies and too little cover. Soap high on adrenaline, and too out in the open.

He’d turned, saw Johnny’s wide frantic eyes, and didn't have a choice. At least, he felt he didn't.

A command ripped out of him with the force of hunger.

"Drop, Soap."

Soap dropped instantly. It was as if Ghost had reached inside him and rewired the man’s will with a flick of his fingers.

It should have terrified him.

It terrified Ghost.

Soap, however, was fucking delighted.

By the next morning, Ghost couldn’t take three steps without Johnny at his heels like an enthusiastic terrier with a death wish.

“You can’t tell me you’re not even a wee bit curious,” Soap insisted, jogging backwards in front of him. “C’mon, L.T. Just one more time. Make me do something stupid.”

“No.”

“What about something harmless? Tell me to blink funny. Or jump. Hell, tell me to do a wee spin!”

Ghost stopped abruptly, leaving Soap nearly tripping to stop. “I am not using dark magic to train you like a dog.”

Soap grinned. “Aye, but you could. That’s the point.”

“It’s not a toy.”

“Never said it was. Said it was cool.”

Ghost hated that the compliment warmed something in the cold quiet cavern where his heart used to beat.

“Johnny.”

“Try makin’ me punch myself. Bet I could fight it.”

“No.”

“Try makin’ me kiss you, then.” Soap waggled his brows. “If I’m losing autonomy, might as well make it interestin’—”

cw: vampire!simon with blood kink (obviously), smut

-

Sure, it was a bit odd that he insisted on biting you hard enough to draw blood whether it be your neck or thigh or wherever his teeth found themselves but Simon was also just an odd guy in general. He kept the mask on while he fucked you, only lifting it to his nose but that was it. He thought “half a dog” was the greatest punchline to ever exist and he never ran low on 100 spf sunblock, you’re pretty sure you saw a stash of it under his bed one time. Maybe blood just got him off.

Which was alright, at least he was still fucking you regardless. Except right now he wasn’t even inside you, much less close to being naked or even hard. He just had you in his lap, gnawing on the area between your neck and shoulder humming softly after…swallowing? Then it started to sting.

“Ow- Simon what the fuck are you doing?” You wince and push his head away, trying to examine the damage he’d done. Your opposite hand reaches over and your eyes widen when you see the blood on your fingers.

“M’hungry.”

“Hungry?! How the hell does that make any sense? You’re chewing me up like a burger or something.”

Simon just blinks, wondering what was so confusing about what he said. “Y’dont get hungry?”

Now it was your turn to blink at him. “Yeah. But I don’t go around chewing on people’s shoulders.”

“Ah. S’cuz y’aren’t a vampire.” He glances down at your bloody shoulder and his brow twitches. His eyes darken ever so slightly and he has to shift his hips because now he was getting hard.

“Vampire?” You echo, keeping your eyes glued to him even as he repositioned you so you were face down ass up. He just nods, telling you not to worry about it right now as he undid his pants while you automatically pulled your own down. To his surprise, you were already dripping for him. He slides into you with ease, one hand on the small of your back and the other swiping the blood off your shoulder. He brings his hand up to his lips and licks his hand slowly, slamming into you harder when the taste of your blood hits his tongue again.

You were too busy gripping the sheets and moaning into his pillow to care, more than happy to give him food and a good lay. The sting was still there of course, but you could always tell at him later. Simon leans over you, holding himself up with his arms before latching on to your shoulder again. He cums hard when he does, actually whimpering against your skin from everything he was feeling both in his mouth and on his cock.

vampire simon riley feeding from you while you sit on his cock, without even squirming, calm with his sharp canines sunken deep in the thin skin of your neck, the beady, crimson liquid of your blood flooding his mouth, smudging along his pale lips, cock throbbing rapidly at the taste, making you whimper, gummy walls of your gooey cunt squeezing tight, rippling in response, chasing the feeling.

you card your fingers through the short, buzz cut hairs at his nape, tugging when he readjusts his mouth, opening wide, fangs moving in the deep, rounded notches he indented deep in your flesh, fresh, aching and swelling the more simon feeds, tongue darting out and lapping over the marks, suckling in between his almost aching teeth greedily, drunk on your taste to the point his eyes, deep ebony that gleam ruby under the right angle, flutter shut heavily.

simon tries to be as gentle as possible with you, heavy, calloused hand looped around the slope of your waist, supporting your back, knowing that if he won't, you can accidentally fall, with your body, boneless and weakened, leaning on the sinewy hardness of his chest, eyes blinking slowly, your forehead knocking against the side of his head, sliding aside until you nudge in his temple, while you let him eat, your hole warm and viscous, your blood sweet and nourishing.

he fucks you slowly then, with short, rutting bucks of his hips, breaching his engorged, pulsing cock deeper inside your taut, fluttering hole, folds messy with glistening strings of slick, spread wide around his length, as you keen and babble simon's name almost feverishly, nosing in the wrist of his hand that brushes, covers delicately at the throbbing wounds on your neck, and it's enough to make him cum, biting down a throaty growl.