Dark Fic - Blog Posts

Anyways,

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

TORTURE AND SALLY AND CRUZ! WHY ARE YOU MAKING HIM WATCH!

I know I should’ve seen it coming but it still made me scared!

IT’S HELL IT’S HELL IT’S HELL IT’S HELL IT’S HELL IT’S HELL IT’S HELL!!!!!

OH THANKS FOR THE ENDING! I GUESS I’LL JUST ASSUME THE WORST OF HAPPENED TO THE THREE!

Okay...

Mater, call the spies and get a Maui hook and go save your friends,

Holley, get out the taser and shock the minions and help Mater get them out.

Finn, put eighteen holes inside of Axlerod.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MRn2jDfsOsQ

Can someone help me find these wangxian fics ?

1. Wei ying and the juniors were out on a night hunt and they stayed at an inn. Jin ling said something that hurt wei ying’s feelings, so he went to his room first. When he left, sizhui trapped him against the wall and revealed that the reason they have all the thousands of rules was because it was to make sure that their true strength wouldn’t be seen? He said something about how their eyes turn golden if they use their strength or power? And thats why lan zhans eyes are golden.

2. Its omegaverse and sizhui is jealous when wangxian have their biological baby bc they dont have time for him. He feeds his baby sister and makes her a meal but suddenly she dies. It turns out he replaced the berries with poisonous ones bc he wanted wangxian’s attention for himself as their only child.

3. Wei ying is trapped in CR, specifically in the jingshi. He and sizhui manage to escape from lan zhan, but it turns out sizhui told lan zhan before hand and he drugged him. Lan zhan had been drugging wei ying to make sure that he remains in the jingshi with him and sizhui wanted their family together forever.

4. Jiang cheng, huasang and wuxian go kn a camping/hiking trip? Anyways they take turns driving and the whole time jiang cheng is judging everyones ability to drive, including his. Huasang ran away from dage bc he didnt want to work out or something and jiang cheng has a crush on him (can’t remember)

@wangxianficfinder

TRAINING WHEELS

pairing: step daddy!suna x fem!reader warnings: 18+, DARK FIC, age gap (reader is in college), dilf!suna, stepcest, dry humping, dirty fantasies, masturbation, oral sex, corruption kink. words: 1.8k notes: happy suna day!! <3 taglist: @babayaga67​ ​​ @galagcica​ ​​ @hotwings0203​ ​​ @kgojo​ ​​ @mangocrepe​ ​@minniberri​ ​ @coldspoons​ ​ @hawkspet​ ​ @xxrwzy​ ​ @seita #📂 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲 #📂 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

If you like my work please consider BUYING ME A COFFEE, it means a lot to me!

Suna watches you. He watches you a lot.

It’s like watching a curious puppy taking its first steps, you clumsily mix the chocolate milk, licking the spoon right after, bouncing on your feet at the sound of some pop song blasting on your headphones. 

You wear one of his shirts, white cotton against your skin stopping at your mid-thighs. He notices your baby blue panties when you reach for the cereal on the shelf, the fabric hugging your butt so cutely he almost lets out a groan. He didn’t want to scare you, but you were almost falling out of the counter trying to grab the goddamn cereal box.

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Black Dahlias

Pairing: Ghostface!Eddie Munson x F! Reader (18+)

Contains: 18+!! Heavy, graphic smut. Rough, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral sex (M/F receiving), praise kink, slight degradation, breeding kink if you squint, possessive!eddie, mean!eddie, slight innocence kink. Minor ghostface!steve. CANON DIVERGENT.

Trigger warnings: DUBCON, knife play, stalking, panty theft, drinking and drug consumption, emetophobia, allusions to sexual assault and child abuse, graphic depictions of murder, violence and gore. <-PLEASE HEED THESE TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!

A/N: happy All Hallows’ Eve!! 🎃 thank you so so so much to T @hotchs-bitch for leaving me 112 comments on this Google doc despite having her own 17k word WIP. I love u.

Somebody’s watching you. 

Your eyes dart around the open courtyard, scanning the area for anything, anybody that stands out, but the unease rolling in your stomach dissipates as quickly as it arrives. 

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what about dark mechanic bucky when you forget your credit card. he's all sweaty and dirty wearing a wife beater and jeans. imagine how mean he would be 😳😳

Oh… he would be so mean and so cocky. Wiping the sweat off of his face with the back of his forearm, leaning against the wall making vulgar comments to his co-workers *cough cough* mechanic!Ari while checking you out like a piece of fresh meat.

Warnings: dark/mean Bucky, NON-CON, DUB-CON, misogyny, degradation, objectification, unprotected intercourse, 18+ only MDNI

"Walk in here looking like a fuckin’ prostitute. What do you expect?"

"P-Please, just, please st-stop," your subconscious lets out a moan while you struggle to escape Bucky’s firm grip.

"You left your wallet at home on purpose, didn’t you? Dirty whore’s getting what she wanted," Bucky groans, clenching his jaw. The rivers of defined veins flow down Bucky's muscular arms. His hand covers the whole right side of your head while the old cement wall scrapes deep into your left cheek.

"N-No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you whine, your puffy eyes welling up with salty tears. "S-stop, I promise p-please," your groans trembling, you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, breaking the tender flesh.

The pungent scent of blood and sweat floods your senses as Bucky mercilessly rams into you. "Oh, don’t act like you don't like it." Bucky ridicules you, the head of his cock rapidly slamming into your cervix. "You’re so wet, you like being used like the worthless slut you are."

You squirm under Bucky’s hold, pulling fearful whimpers from your clenched abdomen. Pressing the rough pads of his fingers to your swollen clit, your knees go weak. "That’s it," Bucky groans. His skin beats against yours, beads of sweat rolling down his toned body. "Can’t even pretend anymore, pathetic."

Come Away With Me

Come Away With Me

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Kink: Anasteemaphilia - a sexual preference for partners of a vastly different height than oneself. It can present as a preference for partners who are significantly shorter or partners who are significantly taller.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, murder, blood, gore, kidnapping, noncon (like for real dark shit), dirty talk, light praise

Relationships: Troll!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2162

A/N: Troll - a dwarf or giant in Scandinavian folklore inhabiting caves or hills. We have gone with LARGE for this one pals... an uh he makes it fit. You can thank my 2am stomach ache for this one.

This work has Adult Content. By clicking “Keep Reading” you have agreed that you are over the age of 18 and are willing to view such content. My work is not to be copied or translated onto any other platform. I have discontinued my taglist - follow @slothspaghettilibrary to be notified of when I post new fics.

You crossed the bridge every day. A song quietly falling from your lips as you pushed your small cart to the market and then home again in the evening. It was tiring work; the load was heavy, and the coin never truly enough, but you didn’t quit. It was too safe a job for someone like you to give up on. The stories you’d heard about women working outside the market always sent a shiver down your spine. You were safer out in the open than you would in a pub or a dark bookstore.

You would also miss your friend.

He’s shy, doesn’t really say much of anything, but he’s sweet. Well, you assume it’s a he, and that he is real and not just some coyotes in the woods or local kids being mean. You leave small amounts of fruits and vegetables and flowers for him, nothing special. The bridge between the village and your cottage is old and magic, or so your grandmother told you. It just became a habit when you took over the cart to leave an offering of sorts on the bridge.

Each evening you'd leave what you could afford and each morning it would be gone. Sometimes certain vegetables were left behind, carrots in particular. Your friend seemed to really enjoy when you left plums. Though the tree was still young, it bore small amounts of fruit this season. When you left one behind, a little bruised and misshapen, the next morning you found an old hat where you always left your offering.

The cap was battered and worn, a small emblem on it had been ripped off and there was a hole in it, but the plum pit that sat on top told you it was the bridge, or the spirit of the bridge thanking you for your offering. You didn't want to question it, didn't think about it, because suddenly the long days and early mornings were just a little better. You wore the old hat from that day on.

But the villagers they didn't like that. When you explained to the fishmonger how you came across it, one morning after he'd asked, he sneered and turned up his nose. The cobbler did the same, as did the entire market thereafter. Rumors spread that you were some heretic, not to be spoken to or to have dealings with. On the busiest day of the week, you sold barely anything. And that pattern continued, your cart just as heavy as it had been at the start of the day.

Your offering grew smaller, unable to afford to give any more. But still you weren’t making ends meet. So you did something you promised your grandmother you wouldn’t do. You got a job at the pub as a barmaid. Guilt swirled in your belly that first evening when you had nothing to offer the bridge. The handful of coins you had earned were carefully stashed in the lining of your coat since it was so late at night. There were no lovely plums or flowers to be offered. You stood in the middle of it, trying to decide what to do. Did you leave a coin and risk it being stolen, or do you leave nothing and hope that misfortune doesn’t befall you further?

“Oi, bridge bitch,” someone shouted in the darkness, their voice slurring into the cool night air. “Y-ou wanna give me an off-erring?”

You clutched your coat tighter around your chest, frozen in fear as the burly man stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. You pressed yourself into the stone railing as he approached you, a breath trapped in your chest. He plucked your hat off your head and tossed it over the side. You felt the tears burn your eyes, your voice lost on your tongue.

“You wanna offer me-me that-”

The sentence was never finished. A giant, scarred hand grabbed his head, crushing his skull with a simple squeeze. Blood and visceral spewed from between the meaty fingers, spraying across your front. Every part of you shook, a heavy breath nearly blowing you over as the hand released the lifeless body. The hand shook off the bits carelessly, flinging chunks across the bridge and making bile ride in your throat.

A rush of cool air behind you and suddenly you were standing face to face with… with a…

"T-tr-troll," you squeaked, head tilted all the way back to look at his scarred features. "I-I-I-I-"

You were caught in a loop, unable to scream in terror, unable to run, just a stuttering mess standing before one of the most feared creatures in the world. You dropped your gaze when his piercing blue eyes became too much. In his clean hand, your cap was pinched between two fingers.

"Here, plum," he set the hat back on your head. "Hafta make sure everyone knows you're Bucky's."

"Bucky?" Your lips trembled as the large fingers caressed your face, tracing your cheek and sliding down to your throat. His big thumb pulled at your bottom lip.

"Yeah, me, this is my bridge and you are my precious… tiny… plum."

Fat tears slipped down your cheek. Your body trembled under the immense weight of his stare, blue eyes being swallowed up by his pupils. The heat radiating from his tarnish body caused sweat to form under your thick coat. Every part of him was built to stomp and crush and kill.

What had you done?

"No, no, no little plum, no tears. I've been dreaming about this night." He tried to smile, revealing slightly crooked teeth, but all you could think of was how they'd feel ripping your flesh from the bones. A sob rattled your chest. "I rescued you, l-like a knight, and I'm gonna take you away from all of this. I used all your gifts, I planted a garden for-for us and-and-”

He yanked you into his chest, crushing your cheek into the worn and sweaty material of his shirt. Hands, terrifyingly large and strong, roamed over your body, felt your body tremble under him, but they didn’t stop. Bucky lifted you into the air until your face nearly touched his, more hiccuped cries pouring from your mouth.

“P-puh-please,” you sobbed. "I just wanna go home."

"Shh, it's okay, plum, we'll go home," he whispered, rubbing his nose against yours, like he was trying to soothe you.

You didn't fight as the troll carried you away, leaping over the bridge and causing you to shriek in terror. Whatever life you had before was dead, either because of your own doings leading up to this point or from the monster now taking control. If you survived, made it back to the village somehow, you would no doubt be blamed for murder. Your luck had truly soured. The gods had turned their backs on you. You’d never see your grandmother again.

Bucky’s barbarous steps shook the trees and made the ground quake as he crouched under the bridge.

“Watch this,” he murmured, shrugging his shoulder to force your head up.

Your weak sniffle echoed around the arch. You stared at the dry stone wall, rubbing the heel of your hand into your eyes to try and stop the tears. A nervous smile spread across his barrelled towards the wall. Before the choked sound could pass your lips, the wall shimmered into nothing, revealing a lush valley that practically glowed in the moonlight. Your heart leapt into your throat.

At the center of the valley was a stone hut, a blazing fire crackled and crickets chirped. Bucky walked down the short hill talking the whole way about plans he had for you, for him, for both of you. He kicked open the door, and you were struck by how massive everything was. It was all troll size, of course, from the pans that hung over the fireplace to the washbasin to the bed that was tucked into the far corner of the room. Dried flowers and sprigs of herbs you had left as offerings hung on one fall, as did a ribbon you’d lost on a windy day a few weeks ago. Though it was stained with something now, the satin ruined.

He was still holding you.

“I-I-I had a lots a plans, was going to add more to the house, this wasn’t h-how I wanted it to look when you got here, but I couldn’t not save you. Nobody hurts my plum.” He squeezed you, forcing the air from your lungs when his fingered curled so tightly together they almost touched.

“Bucky,” you said, gasping for air and clawing at his hands.

He looked down at you. Your pleading gaze meeting the same strange one from the bridge. His eyes dilated as they flicked from his hold around your waist to your face. A tight knot formed in your chest as the hunger you saw in his gaze. The harder you tried to breathe, the more your vision blurred.

“Lotta plans, little plum, but they-they don’t really matter anymore.”

Just when you thought you might explode or pass out, his grip released. You collapsed onto the bed and ragged, quaking breaths tearing your throat apart. The sheet smelled surprisingly fresh, like roses and violets you’d grow at home. A hand wrapped around your leg, pulled you to the edge harshly. Bucky snapped and tore at your clothes, tossing the shreds to the far side of the room until you were left naked and shivering below him. You begged him to stop, but he refused to listen.

"Every part of you is so… tiny." He breathed, hands dragging up your legs, your hips, all the way to your face. "I could crush you, rip you right in half."

He brought his weight down to your pelvis when you tried to squirm away, heavy cock pressed against your tummy

"No," you sobbed, fresh tears burning your eyes. "Please, I haven't-"

"Plum," he groaned, biting off the end of your confession. His lips crashed down on yours, devoured and consumed your cries. "Knew you were going to be the one, knew you'd be so sweet and ripe for me."

With your body still pinned beneath him, he removed his clothes. More scars were revealed, old jagged marks that had long since healed but looked so angry, showed what damage he could do and take. You refused to look lower than his chest, terrified of what you'd find. The trembling returned to your body as you tried to hold back your tears. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip and you squeezed your eyes shut.

It felt bigger, hotter, harder outside of his trousers. He rubbed his cock against your stomach, whimpering at the friction against your soft skin. Precum flowed from his cock, soaking your skin in his slimy essence.

"S-s-so beautiful, little plum. Just like I dreamed about. So perfect. Fuck, g-gon-na fill you up so good. Promise I'll be as gentle."

His hands easily wrapped around your thighs, spreading them to the point of pain until he could fit his hips between them.

A scream, filled with anguish and defeat, tore through your throat when he prodded at your dry cunt. He stopped almost instantly, not removing what little of himself he'd shoved into you, but not going any further. You couldn't see his face, couldn't tell if he was enjoying your pain or taking greater pleasure in it. His monstrous thumb traced patterns against the inside of your thighs, moving higher and higher until he was stroking your clit.

"Stay still plum, this will m-make it better, easier. Just let me take care of you."

He forced pleasure on to you. Bucky pressed kisses against your tear-stained cheeks, licked and sucked at the skin around your neck and shoulder. Shocks and shivers rained down your spine, the tension building in the base of your neck made your muscles shake. His thumbs kept toying with your body, swirling and rubbing and pinching. Your hands twisted the sheets beside you, heat rolled through your body. His cock eased deeper into you, your traitorous body sucking him the slicker your pussy got.

"That's it, plum, doing so good. Kn-knew you could take it, fit my cock in your b-b-bitty body. Just need to c-cum and I'll be able to slide right in."

You shook your head, even as your body seemed to agree with his words. The tension inside you wound tighter and tighter, forcing your back off the bed until it snapped. Your vision swam as your pussy fluttered around the tip of his cock. Bucky bit down hard into your shoulder, his hips trying to pulse forward to fully enjoy your wet heat.

"I can't," you whimpered as he pushed in deeper. "I can't, I can't. Please, Bucky, no more."

"Plum, don't fight, promi-ise it'll fit. Promise, I'm gonna make it fit. Cause you're my little, tiny precious plum."

Mom Nat and Dad Bucky notice their daughter is very stressed from school and they take it upon themselves to relax her and make her feel good :)

warnings: INCEST, mom!nat x dad!bucky x daughter!reader, slight cuckholding, and oral sex.

DO NOT READ if this triggers you. Your media consumption is your responsibility.

With his head between her legs, the redhead threw her own back in pleasure as the super soldier gave her cunt a languid lick. She was nearing to her finish just as both Natasha and Bucky heard their front door slam shut in surprise.

Bucky pulled away from his wife and shared a look, their heads both turning to the sound before they stood up and pulled down Natasha’s dress.

“Honey?” Natasha peaked her head into the room, worry evident in her tone just as she saw you laid stomach flat against your king size bed.

“Babydoll, you alright?” Bucky’s deep voice boomed through and just to respond, you kicked your legs in town with a cry erupting from your lips against your pillow.

The two rushed to your bed and sat on the edge, both opposite to each other as Natasha held a hand to your back and rubbed it softly.

Still in your uniform, your skirt rode up as you kicked your legs, screaming and groaning in frustration. Both your father and mother caught sight of the white undies you sported and Natasha couldn’t help but even blush at the sight.

“Is it school, bunny?”

You nodded in tow and the two Russians looked at each other with sorrow, the guilt present on their faces just as Bucky sighed.

“I have so many things to do,” you sat up properly this time and was met by your parent’s concerned faces. “Papers, reports, extracurricular. It’s too much...”

They frowned at your concern, worried for your health, both physically and mentally. Natasha shook her head at your words and inched towards you onto the bed. With a hand tilting your head up, she leaned close and closed the gap between the two of you.

“Natalia—” Bucky was shushed with a finger from his wife and as much as he adored the image in front of him, he zipped his mouth closed.

Your eyes went wide in surprise at the touch and taste of your mother’s tongue. While her kiss was soft and gentle, it was firm and driven as her hand drew your head closer.

She only pulled for a moment to breathe, a grin present on her face when she turned to her husband.

“Well? Don’t just stand there with your dick hard. Help me out.”

oooh what about soft!dark! bucky and nat with ballerina daughter reader?

warnings: INC3ST, dad!bucky x mom!nat x daughter!reader, groping, and breast play. NSFW

DO NOT READ if this offends or triggers you in the slightest, your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Natasha cocked her head at your form, her husband right beside her against the walls of mirror.

She shook her head and huffed. “Turn your other feet a bit more outwards, sweetheart. It’s too inwards.”

You frowned, inching your left feet out in order to fulfil your mom’s demands. You had to. The dance was to be perfect. Of course, you were the Swan Lake, it had to be perfect no matter what. Your mom had been the Swan Lake when she was your age, it was your turn.

This year, both your parents were just in involved in your training and as Natasha shook her head at your failed attempt to fix your feet, she sighed.

“Let’s take a break. We’ll go over this section again tomorrow.” Your frowned turned into a pout when Natasha shook her head. Your eyes went from your mom to the older man beside her, your father’s eyes soft and gentle as he started making his way towards you.

His large arms, wrapped around your shoulder, he towers over you like some giant over a dwarf. “You’re too harsh on her, Tasha.” Your father swayed you in his arms as he held you, arm moving over to your stomach.

“She needs the practice, James.” The redhead inched towards the two of you and soon the pout on your bitten lips disappeared just as your mother ran her knuckles along the apples of your cheek.

“I’m sure she’ll be the best white swan out there.”

You giggled when Bucky dipped his head in the crook of your neck, your eyes settled on your mother’s pursed lips as your father peppered kisses all over your fragile skin.

“I have no doubt.” She said, head tilting gently as she watched the scene unfold. Her husband’s hand splayed over the flat plans of your tummy, while the other travelled further up as Bucky cupped your breast through your leotard. “I just want the very best for you.”

“I know, Mama...” Your head lulled back, eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of your father’s groping hand. You tried to focus but instead, you melted when Natasha’s hand dipped between your legs and under the mesh skirt to rub your cunt through your leotard.

The older woman chuckled, her lashes heavy as she looked up and saw her husband sucking hickeys on the skin of your collarbone while pinching the pebbled nipples through your shirt.

“Just relax, sweetheart.”

Bucky nipped at your neck, while Natasha’s hand was relentless as she hooked the gusset of your body suit to the side.

“You deserve it.”

natasha who’s readers mom and ballet teacher and she’s been spending more time with her other students her and her daughter gets jealous, and maybe it ends in smut?

warnings: mom!natasha x ballet dancer!daughter!reader, inc3st, and groping. NSFW

DO NOT READ if this triggers you. Your media consumption is your responsibility.

Your eyes travelled over to her. She was moving back and forth between students, arms crossed in concentration as she spoke in french, cursing and sometimes scolding the girls for getting their positions wrong.

While another time you would’ve felt the second hand embarrassment, you grinned to yourself in pure content as you watched your fellow dancers be scolded by your own mother.

Now, with minutes nearing the end of class, you were giddy with glee to finish the session. You could come back home with your mother and spend the rest of the day out and about or rather resting with her.

But when the bell rang and the time was up, your mother made no move to budge. You frowned, watched her shake her head as she then huffed at one of the dancers.

“Mama, are you finished?”

She ignored you as she moved to adjust the girl. But when they failed to meet her adjustment, the older woman sighed and shook her head. She then waved off the dancer, along with everyone else as she called for another session to be done tomorrow.

As every dancer moved out of the room, the door closed shut, closing both you and your mother inside. You stood up with excitement, prancing over to the older woman with a grin as you tapped her shoulder.

“Are we to go home now, mama?”

“Give me a moment, dorogaya.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest, pushing whatever breasts you had together.

“You said that last time, mama. I want to go home now with you.” Your demands were clear and Natasha could sense the frustration and definite jealousy.

The redhead sighed and then pinched the bridge of her nose before she turned and faced you. She feigned a smile as she did, not wanting to disappoint nor anger you any further.

After all, she just had spent most of her day training the dancers. It was only fair that her love deserved all the attention the redhead could offer.

“You are right, my love.” The redhead nodded, and then inches towards you with open arms. As you welcomed and melted into her hold, her lips caressed the shell of your ear. “Did you miss me too much?”

You nodded as your eyes darted from the closed door. The blinds down and the city lights settled into large windows of the studio. “I did.”

Your mother’s hand falls, from your waist to the curve of your bum through your leotard as it disappears under your mesh skirt.

“Mama, we’re still at school...” You whimper gently when her teeth grazes your skin, barely even nips it as she goes.

Your mother’s teasing touch comes to a halt when her hand nears your warm core, melting and wetting the fabric of your leotard.

She pulls her head away and with a raised brow, she stares at you feigning innocence.

“I thought you wanted my attention?”

IM SORRY HOW LOBG AGO DID YOU WRITE THIS??? Its so good please- Bubba and peach thats so cute😭😭🥰

bleed all over me

a dark retelling of bleed it out through the perspective of the countess and her vampire daughter and their forbidden rendezvous...

mom vampire!natasha x daughter vampire!reader

warnings: INCEST, blood drinking, vampire au, mommy kink, innocence kink, and slight manipulation.

inspired by @seera-li :3

DO NOT READ if this offends or triggers you in the slightest, your media consumption is your own responsibility.

She had been ever so perfect, her little thing, her whole world. From the start of her life, to the moment she took her last breath, Natalia had always been there right by her side.

And when she cried wolf for her mother’s arms, the gentle call from her dying throat, she looked at the countess with eyes that only sparked the ever lasting joy of life.

Only then Natalia knew what she had to do. With skin pricked within seconds, blood cascaded down between the cracks of her lips and tongue, life forged itself back into her body as every bit of death seeped out of her bones.

When she had woken up hours later, seeking out for her mother’s arms bare in her nightgown, the countess spoke nothing but welcomed her with open arms. With her lips pressed against hers, tiny little whispers of life sparked once again between them.

* * *

She had missed this; the very love her mother had given her even way before her succumbing to death. Every kiss, every reassurance of her love, through the moans and whimpers while Natalia had her daughter between slender fingers.

While for now, she seeks out comfort from her, sat comfortably in her lap as the older woman brushed her silken hair through fibres, a moment passes between the two.

When Natalia finishes and settles the brush beside their table, she finds her daughter’s eyes seeking for her. Those wide doe things, staring at her with so much life and adoration, much more to experience in the many centuries they have to live.

“When was the last you had fed, peach?” Something swells in Natalia when she finds her flushing under the nickname. It had always been the name she had called her before she had fatefully died that night. Ever since, always since, it evoked the very same reaction.

She shrugs in response to her mother’s question, a purse to her lips as she twirls an unruly lock of Natalia’s red hair. Mumbles an answer once she finds the courage to: “Not sure.”

The older woman raises a brow at her, finds her trailing her gaze away from her own green ones before Natalia sighs and draws her chin up.

“It’s been weeks, love bug.” She frowned under her mother’s tone. “You know how I feel about feedings.”

She barely even found the courage to look up, but when Natalia gripped her chin a little harder, she bit her lip and found striking green eyes staring right back at her.

“Not that hungry, I guess.” She gave a poor shrug to mask the hunger that rumbled through her stomach. Natalia didn’t need to be creature of such to figure out the craving present in her daughter’s lips.

“Love bug?”

“Mmh?”

Natalia looked at her lovingly, eyes soft and gentle, yet still there was some firmness behind them that spoke of no room for argument.

She frowned and snaked her arms around the countess’ neck, grinding herself further and harder against her lap to feel the friction present between her legs.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, mama.”

The redhead looked at the smaller woman in her lap, rubbing an comforting hand over her bare arm as she sighed and drew her head up. She trailed her eyes away.

“You could never hurt me, love bug, you know this.” She cooed softly, just as her fingers mocked her own words against her skin. “Come closer, sweetheart.” She helped her scoot over. “I trust you. Always.”

And when the countess swept the long locks of hair away from one side of her shoulder, baring her pulsing neck to her daughter, Natalia waited for her to make the first.

While hesitant and doubtful, she inched closer to her mother’s waiting arms and ducked her head to where her pulse laid. Only then, revealing shimmering sharp teeth, she leaned close until they pricked her fragile pale skin to reveal crimson blood to her tongue.

When blood coated her buds, she moaned and softly whimpered against her mother’s skin. There was a moment of serenity between the silence, a moment of calm, sweet tang and bittersweet on her tongue. And when her quenching thirst was fulfilled, tummy satisfied and eyes fluttered closed, she pulls away from her mother’s beating neck.

Her teeth retract and Natasha thumbs at the blood that corners at her lips and licks it away. The countess grins at her daughter’s skin, what was once pale now blooming with life.

She cupped her cheek and found her eyes dazed in such euphoria, almost orgasmic and Natasha remembers the very first she had made her daughter cum. Such a frail little girl, she had been so innocent and unaware, wonderful and submissive, all her’s.

“You alright, bubba?” She swept the hair that framed her face. “Feel better now?”

She gave her mother a nod and sighed, a smile blooming on her blood stained lips. “Thank you, mama.”

Natasha grinned and melted into her embrace. Always and forever, anything for her little girl.