#vampire romance

“No turning back…” While making a short horror film, best friends Tammy and Sia get more than they bargained for when witches, magic books, spirits, vampires and romance are involved. Will Tammy and Sia’s friendship survive this supernatural summer, and will Tammy's romantic endeavors with two vampires be more than she can handle? If you like black magical girls and love witches and vampires, check out this animatic pilot! More Under The Read More

MASTERLIST

pairing: vampire!oscar piastri x writer!reader

you were sure your formula 1 romance would be the next booktok hit. you had everything: exclusive paddock access, a one-on-one interview with a driver (you were very specific about which one), and more than enough inspiration. what you didn’t plan for was not getting your first choice, developing a questionable emotional attachment, and the growing suspicion that he isn’t exactly… alive.

genres: rom-com, formula 1, vampire fiction, writer’s, slow burn, yearning, pining pining pining.

warnings: vampire, one suspiciously calm driver, blood & drinking blood references, falling for the worst possible option, references to death and immortality, this is just research (it isn’t), questionable survival instincts.

1. WILDLY INCONVENIENT

2. STRICTLY PROFESSIONAL

"Forgive me, father-"

"-You know," the vampire said. "You'd never need to confess anything to me. Just like that god of yours, I can see everything inside that delicious little brain of yours already."

"-for I have sinned." The words came out faltering. Choked.

They had come back. The vampire was back.

"I'd say I also don't care for sin, and see no sin whatsoever in wanting me," the vampire continued, idly. "But I actually think you're enjoying being a little naughty for once in your life. Far be it from me to deprive you of the fantasy."

The priest's jaw clenched. Even though it was a bad idea, another falling to temptation, they looked over.

The vampire lingered on the threshold of the church, leaning against the door, at the very edges of the candlelight. The gold picked their eyes out the red of communion wine. They smiled. Slow as wax dripping, honeyed and pooling. Ready to extinguish the light when it was done.

"You are not welcome here," the priest said.

"Oh? Is that why your mind keeps calling out to me?"

"It does not!"

"Lying is also a sin, love."

Priests did not glare, but it was a close thing. They felt absurdly laid bare, unsure if the damned creature truly could read their mind or not, but...

Whether a god or a devil made a vampire, they were made exquisite. Once they started staring, it was difficult to stop.

The vampire's smile grew; a flash of wicked fangs. "It's okay," the vampire crooned. "I'm a benevolent god. I might even grant you eternal life in this life time, if you please me and ask really nicely."

"That's sacrilege."

"Is that what we're calling the truth in this day and age?"

The priest took a deep, steadying breath, trying and failing to be unaware of the way the vampire tracked the rise and fall of their chest.

"You are not," they said, through gritted teeth, through the frantic clutch for control, "welcome here."

The vampire blinked at them. They gave a thoughtful nod. Then they stepped lazily through the threshold.

The priest shot to their feet, heart lurching in their chest, eyes wide.

In all of the vampire's visits, they had never once stepped inside. They hadn't thought the creature capable of it. Surely they were supposed to be incapable of stepping on sacred ground?

They waited for - something. Perhaps not a smite of lighting. But something. Anything. God, please. God, no.

Maybe they just waited for the vampire to inevitably move closer, for those dangerous teeth to sink into their throat, and obliterate all doubt and all fear and all everything.

The vampire tipped their head in the silence. They gestured.

"St Mary's Church," they echoed, soft as silk. "All welcome."

The priest froze.

It was true, that was what the sign said. Of course that was what it said. But...their mouth dried.

In an instant, finally, the vampire was in front of them.

The priest's brain buzzed. Every prayer they'd ever memorised seemed suddenly gone for their head, and up close the vampire didn't smell like a dead thing, they smelled like the church did. Cold and hallowed, filled with winter air and a tinge of candle smoke.

"Touch all you like," the vampire said. "I don't demand blind faith."

The priest reached out before they could stop themselves, fingers trembling over the vampire's chest. Icy. Solid. Real. Their palm flattenned out, smoothed up, heart pumping a betrayal.

"Good." The vampire cradled their jaw, then, so tenderly. They leaned down, so their lips were barely an inch away, and the priest's breath hitched. "Now, tell me who you believe in," the vampire murmured. Him. Or me."

The priest's fingers tightened on the vampire's shirt. To clutch them close. To hurl them away. To keep their own knees from buckling.

In that moment, with the dawn still so far away, the only thing the priest could feel was them.

The vampire smiled again, like they knew that answer too, could hear it ringing in the priest's brain like a cathedral bell.

Their lips brushed the priest's - no kiss, just the promise of one. The priest could imagine what it would taste like. Apples and cliches. Crisp, sweet poison. Or maybe salvation. What would it feel like?

"No," the priest gasped. They staggered back, stumbled, fell hard on their arse. Head tipped back. Looking up at an impossible thing. Aching. Wanting. "I can't. I - you -"

The hunger inside was a monstrous thing.

The vampire knelt down in front of them. Slow enough to track, entrancing enough that the priest couldn't move. The vampire looked like supplication incarnate.

"You..." The priest said, breathless.

"Me," the vampire echoed, once more. "That's what I thought."