#vampire!sherlock

So detailed down to the tiny patterns in her beautiful hazel irises; were the eyes of his beloved, Mia.

The lightning from outside brightened up the room around them, revealing over more than a dozen portraits of Mia. Most of them consisted of her in the color yellow or pink.

Others were just her body parts. Her lips, her naked waist and hips, her naked back with her shoulders and untamed curls cascading down her back. His personal favorite, her fingers interlocking with his; differentiating the sizes of their palms.

‘My dear Mia. Oh you’d be disappointed with how I use my time.’ He chuckled aloud as he wiped his cheek with the back of his wrist, smearing paint against his cheekbone.

And then he found himself staring into the large lively eyes he’d created. Getting lost in them as if she were still physically here.

***

Only darkness everyday, ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. This house just ain’t no home, anytime she goes away.

He walked as his nose flared; chin trembling as he held his deceased love in his arms tightly. Her blood stained his white blouse. What use to run and pump warmth and life into her, ran cold and endless. His hands, forearms and his cheeks were covered in it.

The scent of her used to bring him a joy like no other, and now, seeing her defiled like this. Knowing the reason why her precious soul was taken, it sickened him.

He walked until he stopped at the entrance of a village. Hesitantly, he looked down at her before looking back ahead of him. ‘Help! Someone help! Someone help please!’ He screamed, and begged. His eyes searched for anyone that could help; some folk came peeking out of their doors, but only a few had the guts to rush over towards the mysterious man. Drake dropped weakly to his knees, but he never let go of his love.

‘What’s happened?!’ One of the onlookers came running over, seemingly looking to help at first.

‘S-she’s been stabbed…’ Drake stuttered, still not able to make sense of what’s happening, he looked up at the stranger before him. He was a short, bald, heavy set older man; he had to be the leader around here.

He was startled by Drake’s bright red eyes and took a step back. “Devil!” The man cried frighteningly, his eyes wide as saucers, a sharp pain shot through the man's heart. He clutched his chest. Others started to murmur, the men in the town pushed their children and wives back into the house as they found pointed objects.

Drake sighed heavily, jaws clinched in agitation; he inhaled deeply trying his best to calm his rage. ‘Listen, I mean no harm, ok? My wife— they killed my wife. Burned down my home. Killed my stock and cattle. I just need… I need some help… just to clean my wife and get her buried…’

“Begawn demon!” One man shouted with a large pickaxe in his hands, another man stepped forward, a cold stare in his eyes.

“We’re good Christian you heathen, if that woman was with you, we’ll then she’s better off dead. Maybe God will forgive her.” The man shook his head, his fingers wrapped around his weapon tightly, these people were surely blinded by their belief in God to think they could take on someone of Drake’s nature. He couldn’t believe the words that just came from this imbecile’s crusty lips.

“Are you ‘too good Christian’ to help your own?! How dare you, hypocrites.” He hissed, bright crimson blood pooled at his eyes, and only a single tear fell down his pale skin. ‘She believed in your God!’ He exclaimed with so much venom behind the word, ‘The same God whose brought you nothing but pain, death, illness and sorrow! Yet, she still believed in him! Just like the rest of you! Was she not good?!’

The crowd grew quiet. Only the sounds of the night could be heard around he and the crowd that surrounded him defensively. Bullfrogs croaked, Crickets chirped and beetles flapped their heavy wings.

As soon as Drake felt he was about to lose hope and his cool, someone spoke up in the crowd, ‘And what do we get if we aid you?!’

He searched the crowd as a woman walked forward. She had black thick and curly hair, her skin was brown and rich like the Earth’s soil. She wore trousers and a slightly stretched out blouse. It appeared to be somewhat of an off duty knight. Her clothes weren’t as damaged and raggedy as everyone else’s.

‘I-‘ he pressed his lips together. ‘Whatever it is that you want. I have no use of any more of my riches… I don’t plan on living on without her.’ Drake looked down at Mia once more. He wasn’t sure how many more tears he could shed. But he wasn’t ready to stop either.

‘Hmph… you’d save me the time then… c’mon now then.’ The pretty woman turned on the toes of her boots and walked back through the crowd; shoving people out of the way. Get out my way! What you lookin’ at?!

Drake felt his slow beating heart stiffen almost in his chest. He was relieved that someone was willing to help. So he stood up to his feet, adjusting Mia in his arms.

***

Drake placed Mia’s lifeless body on the cot. He knew this was probably the last time he’d see her. So he stared at her for as long as he possibly could. He had to take in every feature, knowing that it would be his last

The woman folded her arms across her chest, her head falling to the side.

‘What happened?’

He sat there for a moment before blinking away and looking over at the woman behind him. He felt his chest twist, tears filled his eyes once again before he just let out a shuddered sigh. ‘The Church… found out my hide away. Th-they said she’d been followed. She’d come to see me in the morning. We’d spend the day together,’ he scoffed and swallowed his sticky saliva before continuing. ‘She was the only reason I ever became a morning person… I’d risk burning myself countless times just to be with her and th—‘ his voice was strained; drowned in own tears and despair.

And when Drake had enough strength to speak, darkness reflected in his words as if they looked into a mirror, ‘They took her. from. me!’

The woman watched in silence, studying the picture before her. ‘How long have you and her been—together?’ She asked.

‘A little over a year and a half… she was the reason why I never went back into hunting and killing,’ he looked back at her. His eyes were so sad and lifeless. It almost seem unreal, like sad painting. ‘Because of her, I cherished human life. I saw the potential in your lives. So I went without drinking human blood for that duration.’

Her eyebrows tugged into one, ‘If you weren’t drinking humans then what—‘

‘Animals… particularly moose. Boar. Sometimes bear— anything I could get my hands on really.’

‘M-my God…’ The woman was in disbelief! Could he have been that in love to completely risk his livelihood?

Everyone deserved to love, and perhaps if you are capable of loving, you’re capable of changing. She thought to herself.

‘And so they call…’ he scoffed, his head falling forward; shaking side to side.

‘I don’t think you’re the vampire they are after!’ Drake didn’t say anything, he didn’t much care. Instead, he just grabbed Mia’s hand and placed his cold lips against her cold flesh. He’d just hoped for a small sign of life from her. But he was disappointed once more when reality set in by the second.

The sound of her heeled boots quickly clicked across the wooden floor. ‘Look. I ain’t too keen with working with your kind,’ she said with a slight bitterness, ‘But if I were in your position… I’d do whatever it is that I needed to be done so that my partner gets the justice they deserve…’

Dracula looked up at her with wet eyes. He knew what her suggestion was.

‘That’s just me though…’ she threw up her hands In defense.

He stood to his feet slowly, his thick brows tugging into one,‘Are you suggesting—‘

‘THAT’S… just me now…’ she took a step closer to him, low enough for him to hear, ‘Do what you must. Besides, these folk could use some protectin’ roun’ here,’ She looked over at his wife for a second, ‘She shall be in tip top shape upon your return. And when you get back… we can perhaps discuss a partnership.’ She then stepped back and jerked her head towards the door. ‘Gone head nah. Before I change my mind!’

Dracula gave the woman a gentle nod before turning back to his love, ‘She’ll— she’ll take care of you— my love.’ He then placed his bloodied hand on top of hers.

His chin trembled as he stared at his wife’s corpse. Even in death, she was breathtaking.

‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry Mia. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.’ He sniffed, wiping his tears before letting out a shaky sigh, ‘I love you… And I’m gonna make this right.’

Dracula pushed her hair behind her ear. ‘Until we meet again my love…’

He looked back over at the woman, darkness clouding his eyes, ‘How far is the Church’s village?’

‘On horseback? About a day’s ride… the sun could be quite dangerous for someone like you.’

Drake pressed his lips together, knowing what he’d have to do to get there faster. ‘Indeed… I must leave,’ he walked towards the wooden door.

‘I never caught your name. I-I want to thank you.’

The woman placed her hands on her widened hips and a smirk curled on her lips, ‘No need to thank me,’ she said raising her hand in protest, ‘Make it back alive and I’ll tell you everything.’

***

A loud thunder clap shook him out of his own head. A smirk curled on his lips slowly, ‘I know… I’m goin’, I’m goin’… I just wanted to take the time to admire you for a bit longer…’

A soft low thunder rumbled, causing his apartment to shake a little.

‘I miss you too…’ he sighed softly.

Shortly after, he gathered his brushes and carried them to the sink and washed them carefully. Afterwards, he set them on a towel to dry.

Before leaving his “showcase” room, he took one more good look at her, ‘Good Night Mia. I love you.’ And he shut the door behind him.

***

Drake stood beneath the hot shower; allowing the water to beat down on his head and the rest of his messy body. He loved these kinds of nights. Since his body didn’t generate it’s own sweat or neither did he get funky, he’d somehow subconsciously yet— perhaps on purpose, smear himself up in paint so he could shower. It was the only thing that reminded him of her. The warmth of her pretty brown skin and how she’d hold him close.

Otherwise, he truly had no other excuse to be in the shower.

Lifting his head up, he ran his fingers through his hair; pushing it back out of his face. He then reached over for his washcloth, and liquid soap. Once he lathered it up, he rubbed those smooth suds into his skin and scrubbed off whatever paint that was left on his body.

Afterwards, he sat in the shower until the water ran cold. He got out and got dressed in something modest and simple. It was still raining outside, and he would’ve hated for his suits to have gotten wet.

He’d dressed in a cotton light gray long sleeved shirt. It had 3 buttons at the chest. He left only one open. Then, he pulled on some briefs and some dark denim jeans and some brown boots.

Drake dried his thick black hair with a towel and then blow dried it. His locks fell wavy and soft against his head.

Once he was done getting dressed, he grabbed his sketchbook, his wallet and keys. Then, he left.

This was the only time Dracula really enjoyed the outdoors in the daytime. The sky had to be dark with clouds and/or pouring down raining. He could smell and feel how refreshed Mother Earth felt when it did. As if the rain was cleansing everything around him.

He also found it funny when unprepared humans would just cover their heads with newspapers or their hands trying to get to cover. Such clumsy creatures.

Closing down his umbrella, he walked inside of a coffee shop. The smell of freshly brewed coffee made love to his senses and caused a slight drool to pool in his mouth.

Coffee was Dracula’s guilty pleasure. Human food was disgusting. Anything processed, would taste as if he were biting into the metal or plastic that kept them fresh. Or, he’d taste the hormones and the particles. If he had to eat human food just to blend in, he’d simply throw it up later. But coffee, he liked his Americano. No sugar. No cream. Just— beans and hot water.

The baristas shouted, desynchronized “Heeey!” “Drake!” “Yooo!”

They were all very happy to see him. After all, it had been quite some time since he’d been down here.

A toothy grin curled on his lips as he placed his wet umbrella up against his booth and placed his book down on the table. ‘Shannon, Luis, Jang. How are all of you?’ Then he walked up to the counter.

‘We’re holding up… we’ve missed ya down here. We were starting to think you moved away or sumn!’ Jang said with a slight smirk.

‘Yeah! Shannon was starting to get sad!’ Laughed Luis.

‘Hey!’ Shannon laughed and smacked Luis on the arm, ‘You’re gonna get enough of telling my business! How are you, D?’

Dracula had been coming to the local coffee shop for about 10 years now. Way before his friend’s arrival. The owners, Lee and Jennifer, had always been kind to him and welcoming. Introducing him to their own families and friends. Having him over for dinner some nights.

Until one night they’d suffered greatly when half of the shop burned down. Drake had heard about this terrible incident and had written them an anonymous check for $40K for repairs. Til this day, the couple hadn’t had a single clue who’d gifted them with something so life changing. And it were to stay that way.

‘I thought I asked you to call me Drake?’ He smirked, pulling out his wallet.

‘I know. But I think D fits you best,’ the woman giggled, ‘The Usual today?’

‘Mmhmm,’ he nodded before placing the $20 bill in her hand. ‘Could you bring it to my booth?’

‘Sure. Anything for my—‘ Shannon paused for a second, getting lost in those bright crimson eyes. Sure she had a crush before, but it had only gotten extreme. ‘Main. Man.’ And a slow smile curled on her lips.

Dracula returned the smile and nodded once, ‘Thank you, Shan.’ And he turned away to walk to his booth.

As soon as he sat down, he opened up his book full of sketches. Some pages were of flowers, mountains and rivers, oceans and the sky. But others were of people he’d come across in his life. But mostly, Mia.

Strangely enough though, he didn’t feel like drawing her today. Technically.

He’d quickly got started on a face. Allowing just his hand and mind to come together; not really thinking.

‘One Americano.’ Shannon said softly with a smile, placing the large mug down on the porcelain dessert plate. ‘Thank you, Shannon. It smells delightful.’ He smiled looking up at her.

‘Anytime.’ She sighed softly before pulling her eyes away to look at his sketch. ‘What ya workin’ on?’

Dracula looked back down at the large sheet of paper. In just a minute’s time he’d already drawn and detailed an eye and a nose. ‘Nothing special just— sketching.’

‘Nice! You’re really talented!’ Shannon jumped when the bell chimed over the door.

He instantly went stiff at her scent. ‘Misty! Hi, welcome back!’ Shannon greeted her with a smile, ‘I have to get back to work. Have fun.’ She said, placing her dainty hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

Drake inhaled deeply, as her heart beat seem to thud louder and louder in his ears. The smell of flowers just kept tickling at his nose. It was intoxicating! He was drawing but he couldn’t focus! All that he could see embedded in his brain was her gorgeous smile, her big, thick curly hair, her hazel eyes.

This is probably the closest he’s ever been to drowning. All until,

‘Drake?’

‘Huh?’ He lifted his head quickly.

She was standing there with a sweet yet, puzzled look on her face. Oh she was to die for.

‘I didn’t know you came to this coffee shop!’

‘Misty! Hi! Oh, yeah—‘ he chuckled as his eyes roamed over her body once. The perfect frame. Voluptuous breasts, a tummy, wide hips and thick thighs. ‘I-I know the owners. Been coming here for a few years now.’

‘That’s cool! Hey, do you mind if I join you? I just have a few more minutes to kill before I have to head back to work.’

Of course I mind. You’re only the love of my life’s doppelgänger! I don’t even know what to say or do right now.

‘No, please!’ Lying bastard.

Misty sat down in front of him with a gentle smile on her lips. She watched him take a sip of his coffee first before he went back to sketching upon the white sheet. ‘You draw too? What are you working on?’ She asked before sipping out of her straw.

Drake swallowed his spit as he scribbled, ‘Just some random… portrait.’

‘Hmm! It’s pretty. You take commissions?’

‘Commissions?’ He asked a bit confused, ‘Like pay? No. I do this for fun.’

Misty smirked, adjusting herself in her seat before folding her arms on top of the wooden table, ‘So, if I asked you to do one for me… you’d do it?’

Dracula looked up at her, sizing her face before his eyes dropped to her neck, then her chest. Then, he looked back up into her eyes, ‘If you’d ask me…’

She just stared at him and he just stared at her. Misty finally looked away with a giggle, ‘I-I couldn’t ask that of you. Supplies are getting more and more expensive by the day and art takes time and patience. I couldn’t do that. I’d have to pay you—‘

‘I wouldn’t have it…’ he interrupted. ‘I have enough…’ he paused for a second, ‘I don’t mind.’

She raised a brow, sitting back into her seat. ‘You are stubborn… well at least let me take you out? What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?’ She asked with a smile.

He chuckled as he continued to sketch, ‘You’re asking a complete stranger out on a date? I could be a murderer.’

‘Yeah, you could be. But how would I know if I don’t try?’

You’re just like her… in so many ways.

Drake shook his head as his smirk remained on his face, ‘I work… I’m free after 7pm.’

‘Hmm.. alright. Well, do you have a phone? So I can plug my number in?’

A phone. Dracula was never the type to keep friends so he never thought getting a phone was a logical investment for him. ‘I don’t.’

‘No phone? In the 21st century? Well, I’d say you like to live your life on the edge! What if you were to ever be in danger?!’ She sounded concerned.

Danger? Ha, oh darling, I am the danger.

Drake chuckled and shrugged, ‘Then if it’s my time to go.. it’s my time to go. We didn’t—‘ he bit his tongue and stopped once again. He was getting way too comfortable. ‘I don’t need one.’

Misty took a sip of her ice coffee and shook her head, ‘Well, Mr. “I’m too righteous” for a phone. You should invest in one.’

‘Why?’

‘Cause how would I call you?’

Damn… she’s smooth.

Drake pressed his lips together. He swallowed his spit, feeling as if there was a UV light burning in the pit of his stomach. She had no idea of the chokehold she had on him at this moment. ‘I’ll think about it.’ He said before going back to his sketch.

‘Alright. Well, just,’ she stood up from her seat and picked up her drink, ‘Meet me back here tomorrow evening. 7:45pm.’

He looked up at her as a slow smile curled on his lips, ‘Sure.’

‘I gotta head back now. See you then.’ She said before walking towards the door.

‘Yeah,’ he said before she walked out of the door. ‘See ya.’

Turning back to his sketch before his, he hadn’t even realized he had already worked on her full lips.

Though as the ethereal creature held you to the wall and glanced upon you through sharp daggers of ice and a fanged grin ample of malice, you knew that he would give you anything but peace.

Fingers wrapped around your neck, the soft pad of his thumb glided down your artery that ragefully throbbed from the allure of the chase. A shiver crawled through your skin then - terrorised by Sherlock's stone-cold touch, by the shadows that tainted his eyes as he felt the heat of your blood thrumming against his fingers.

"Scream for me, my angel of innocence." His command was abnormally soft, spoken tenderly as a lover would whisper.

And certainly, you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream so loudly your cries would rip a hole through hell, yet no voice met your tongue as you opened your mouth.

The master chuckled in response, his gaze lazily trailing to meet your cleavage, and his eyes blazed with a secondary trail. Asking no permission, he reached a hand to squeeze one of your breasts before he tore down your gown and made tatters of your chastity.

Still, no screams left your quivering lips, but a gasp and a shudder that descended from your neck to your loins. Absentmindedly, you ground your thighs, feeling an odd pain of yearning cascading at your untouched petals.

Sherlock must have smelled your sin, for his lips stretched further, exposing salivating fangs. Provoking, he urged his entire weight against your frame, and as the hardness in his groin throb against your belly, your legs instinctively parted as if to lure him inside.

His hand loosened from your neck, gently yet firmly at once; it made way down the heaps of your bare breasts and the valley of your warm skin until he found your silken skirts and made scraps of whatever remained.

Naked against the cold pitted stone, you trembled, your eyes cautiously searching for his, observing as he suckled his lips like a cat ready for his dessert.

"I will have your blood," he murmured and without warning, his long fingers slipped below to found the heat of your desire and sunk deep into your virginal core.

"Oh god!" You yelped, both of pain, shock and what you tried to denied but couldn’t.

‘Oh god! It feels... divine...’

The creature inched his face toward your neck, and once again, pulled a moan from your throat by the silky stroke of his tongue. Languid yet forceful, he pumped his fingers inside, stretching your little uncharted hole in preparation for the imminent demise of your purity.

"God ends here, little one," Sherlock assured and kissed your throat, his thumb now toyed with the little nub of flesh above your cunt, his teeth grazed your vein.

Lost of wits, you swayed to his touch and leaned into his body, all absent of protest and willing to succumb to death in the sake of pleasure. 

"I will have your blood," Sherlock uttered again and increased the pace of his ministrations while you clenched around him and whimpered for more. 

"But will I have you as my bride?"

Sinking into a grave of dark ecstasy, you locked your thighs around his hand and rode his fingers with a faint nod. His lips uttered words you could not quite hear and the world then blackened.

Death was only temporary,

- his love was eternal. 

———————

I do not own Enola Holmes or Sherlock Holmes.

Always Watching

Clutching the stack of books you hugged them to your chest as you made your way back to your apartment, there was research to do and it was going to be a late night. In the last few weeks things in town had changed, though not to the general population, but the town council had made drastic changes since Sherlock and Geralt had reported back as to what was causing the unrest. People were also starting to go missing, your father included, and after initial futile searches, a crew had been dispatched to the labyrinth of caverns beneath the town. You and Sherlock had led a team, only briefly seeing a glimpse of the beast that lurked, a long purple tentacle the size of your thigh slithering away into the darkness.

Arriving at your place you juggled the books in one arm as you unlocked the door, setting them onto the table before heading back and shutting the door. Settling down to the ancient texts you’d pulled from the vault of the town archives, you started to research a theory that had crept into your mind. As the night went on your fatigue crept in, eventually falling asleep at the small table in your kitchen.

Your dream was vivid; a bright light illuminating crystal blue-green waters, the ebb and flow of water washing over your body. The tip of a tentacle curled across your chest and you realised you were barely dressed, just a flimsy chemise covering your body that was all but transparent. More tentacles appeared from the water, softly wrapping around your calves before climbing to your thighs. The water started to bubble and the curved back of the beast appeared, scaled and dark, before finally it reared its head from the water. There was a haze as you tried to focus, mists swirling around the creature yet through the tendrils of vapour you saw it shift and change, its form morphing into that of a man. His clothes hung in shreds from his shoulders, a wide ceremonial chain draped around his shoulders. The mists cleared and he lowered himself to you, his face inches from your own as he took in the sight of your spread form beneath him, the tentacles still gripping you. Just as he went to speak the vision faded, dissipating like steam out of a window.

Strong arms carried you and you realised you were in your apartment, those same strong arms connected to a firm chest, the scent of Rosemary surrounding you;

“What?... Sherlock?”

“Shhh, I came to drop breakfast over and found you slumped at the table. Were you up all night?”

“I dreamed… I had a dream…” you murmured

“Shhh its ok, get some rest, you can tell me later”

He set you down on your bed, pulling the covers over your body as he watched you drift off to a dreamless sleep, trying to chase the vision you’d had earlier but nothing came.

-

A loud knocking at the door pulled you from the depths of your dreamless sleep, and as you were rising to sit on the side of your bed you heard a grunt and a click, and a familiar hulk was soon standing in the doorway;

“Patience is a virtue Geralt”

“And one i don’t have” He stood in the doorway, one leg crossed over the other, a large garment bag hanging from one fingertip; “Sherlock asked me to drop this off”

“What is it?”

You padded on bare feet to where he stood, unzipping the bag with your tired fingers, Geralt watching as you pulled the gorgeous gown from it;

“Sherlock sent it over. It’s from the archives. For the big celebration ball tonight”

“The ball… OH, that ball.”

You had been so busy with your research you had completely forgotten about the annual ball that the town council and elders would attend. This year you had been invited as Sherlock’s plus one.

“Yes, that ball” Geralt said with a hint of sarcasm but a smirk chasing after it, before he hooked his finger beneath your chin and pulled your face up to look at him; “Are you sure you’re ok? When was the last time you fed?”

“I… err… I had dinner last night? I think Sherlock dropped some breakfast off but I went straight back to sleep…”

“No, not ate; fed”

It took a moment to realise what he meant;

“Oh. It’s been over a week. Sherlock’s been busy”

“Hmmn” was the only reply you got, Geralt setting the dress over a chair before pulling his phone out and dialling and waiting for an answer;

“Yeah it’s me. I’m with her now… uh-huh, yes i dropped the dress off… yup… no idea… Listen, Sherlock, she hasn’t fed in over a week” there was a pause where Geralt listened to his friend speak; “Yes you should have… uh-huh… Are you sure? Ok ok, yeah i’ll do it…ok… yes i’ll make sure she’s there on time…ok, bye.”

Geralt hung up and a smile played on his lips;

“Get on the bed, sweetheart”

“What…?”

He took a step forward and was suddenly crowding your personal space. Hooking a finger under your jaw he pulled your chin up so you were looking directly at him. His lips opened but he didn’t say a word, instead that finger trailed down your neck, pausing on the throbbing vein of your jugular before resting at the low neckline of your t-shirt;

“I said… Get. On. The. Bed”

Your legs shook as you took the few steps back until the backs of your knees met the edge of the bed, Geralt still advancing on you as you fell back onto the messy covers. With lightning fast reflexes the vampire-werewolf hybrid was on his knees and pulling your panties down your legs, before hooking his massive arms around your thighs and pulling your ass to the edge of the mattress. His face was inches from your core and you watched as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting out a hum of appreciation at your scent, before he pressed his mouth to your centre. 

You squirmed beneath his touch, hands reaching out to push him away;

"Geralt, no… i haven't showered!"

He let out a low growl, glaring at you;

"Woman! Stay still… i can't get enough of your scent…" his eyes glowed gold and you were reminded that he was half werewolf, his instincts even more primal than Sherlock's vampiric nature when added in with being a mix of the both. You couldn't help but to continue your movements and another growl resonated from his throat; "... don't make me fit spreader bars to you"

"You wouldn't…"

A dark smirk played over Geralt's lips;

"Oh, I certainly would… in fact i'll make a note to suggest it to Sherlock, i have a feeling he'd very much enjoy seeing you spread and immobile for us to use as we wish"

With a smirk on his lips he descended back between your thighs, his rough tongue lapping at your core and relishing the way you responded to his ministrations. Soon you were coming on his tongue, a low growl emitting from him between your thighs as he drank down your essence. Your head fell back against the bed as you basked in the glow of energy that surged through you, before you felt Geralt’s hands gripping your hips and suddenly flipping you over;

“You didn’t think we were done yet, did you little succubus?”

“Oh…”

He pulled your hips up until your ass was in the air and that’s when you felt the firm nudge of the thick fleshy tip of his cock push through your folds. Glancing over your shoulder you saw Geralt’s fangs had descended and his lips were curled into a snarl as he thrust forwards and filled your soft cavern completely. 

If it hadn’t been for your previous orgasm you’d probably be screaming the house down, instead the afterglow softened the brutality of his werewolf side taking over, rutting without remorse into you like a wild animal taking its mate. All that was going through your mind was surge after surge of energy that Geralt willingly shared with you, pushing you higher and higher as he reached new depths within your body. Your were blindly reaching back, seeking his touch or to simply feel him, when his large hand caught your wrist and pinned it behind your back. He did the same with the other, holding both your wrists in a tight grip with one hand, before his other hand came down sharply on your ass;

“Woman, i’m gonna keep those hands still until i’m done with you, no squirming with me, i’m not like Sherlock, i’m going to take charge and give you what you need” 

“Yes Geralt… give it to me” you cried out, the pleasure filling your body making tears run down your cheeks. 

Another sharp spank to your behind had you clenching around him, rewarding you with another growl before he only increased his pace again, bringing you to the edge of sanity as you felt yourself starting to go cross eyed from the way he was fucking you so well, a small puddle of drool beneath your mouth on the sheets where you had lost the ability to speak in any form of coherency. 

When you did finally come your eyes rolled back in their sockets, your mouth open in a silent scream as you submitted to the euphoria surging through your soul. Limp and pliable in Geralt’s hands, he pulled you up to kneeling, your back flush with his chest, and as he sank his cock so deep into you for one final time, coating your cervix with his seed, he sank his teeth into your neck and drank from you. But none of this you were aware of, you’d already blacked out.

-

Many hours later you were fed, washed, and dressed in the gown Geralt had dropped off, your body aching in ways you didn’t know were possible. And yet dressed in the blood red gown whilst you ran behind Geralt through the narrow streets of the city, you felt more alive than you ever had before. 

“Come on, move those fancy toes” Geralt growled to you as you struggled to keep up with his long strides

“Hey, you're not the one wearing heels whilst trying to walk on cobblestones… or who’s insides were rearranged repeatedly just a few hours ago”

He stopped and turned, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth;

“Hmmmn” his eyes glinted gold in the evening light as he watched you catch up, before turning and continuing onto the grand hall at the centre of the old walled city.

As the grand hall came into sight you could see Sherlock pacing at the top of the steps, looking suave in a full tuxedo, a stark contrast to Geralt’s all black ensemble of leather jacket, silk shirt, and jeans that clung to his thighs almost illegally. Upon seeing you trotting along still behind Geralt, Sherlock descended the steps and pulled you into his arms;

“You look stunning. I trust Geralt took good care of you?”

“Look at her, she’s fucking glowing” Geralt interrupted; “Of course i took good care of her, might not be satisfied with just you anymore”

Sherlock laughed before pressing a kiss to your cheek, his lips brushing against your ear;

“You look stunning, and i apologise for neglecting you this week my darling, i’ll make it up to you…”

Resting your hand on his firm chest you smiled at him;

“I look forward to it”

His long fingers wrapped around yours and he gently lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, only for Geralt to pointedly clear his throat;

“When you two are done… it’s time to go in”

-

The gala was stunning, held in the sunken catacombs of the old grand hall, it would seem the elders were going to stick to tradition no matter what threat loomed over them, seeking a sense of normalcy just for the night. There were many faces you recognised and even more you didn’t, and after tiring of dancing - taking turns for both Geralt and Sherlock to be your partner - you stood at the edge of the room against the ancient carved stone balustrade of the steps that led down into the waters, sipping on your drink as you watched the crystal clear waters slowly ripple. The music faded out and the mayor stood started to make a speech, and you looked around to find Sherlock or Geralt, finding them both in deep discussion with gruff Constable Marshall. As the major droned on, forced laughter rippling around the cavern it hid the sound of the water rippling behind you, of a dark shadow moving up the steps. The room was cold and a shiver ran over your exposed skin. Your attention moved back to Sherlock who caught your gaze, smiling and nodding before stepping through the crowd, and that was when you felt it.

Looking down your eyes went wide and you dropped your glass, a scream bubbling up from your diaphragm as the long purple tentacle curled around your ankle. The people at the top of the staircase turned just in time to see other tentacles curl around your wrists and neck, before it lifted you and you were dragged into the water.

-

The world came back into view, your vision hazy, and you suddenly realised you needed to expel whatever vile taste was in your mouth, rolling on sandy stone and coughing out the catacomb water. As you shivered on your hands and knees, your soaked dress in tatters, a thick tentacle slithered past and it suddenly shocked you fully awake. With a gasp you turned, trembling as the waters bubbled and a mass of swirling tentacles unfurled. It was then that you realised your dream hadn’t been a dream, it was a premonition;

“No…” you quietly spoke, trying hard to focus on the centre of the mass, the body of the creature forming. When it finally spoke it was if it was speaking through charred remains;

“Still… stay still…”

You shook your head, scrambling backwards until tentacles curled around your ankles and gripped your calves; “STILL!” it commanded, pushing closer to you and that’s when you saw it; the ceremonial chain.

You’d found it in your research, you knew what - or who - this was, you just weren’t sure how he’d gotten that way;