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Cravings

Summary:

Still affected with Vampiritis, Lucifer struggles to be around you. Eventually, he can't control himself anymore, and you're not sure you want him to.

(Second person indulgent fic based off the Nightbringer vampire event.)

Notes:

I don't really dabble much in more smutty works, but I love vampires and Lucifer, and I felt like trying something out for once! It might not be my specialty, but I hope you enjoy!

Work Text:

Despite the absolute absurdity of the idea that demons could transfer and turn into vampires as easily as humans spread sinus infections, you’d learned to roll with it. After all, this was just a single drop in the bucket of all the crazy things you’d seen. The brothers recovering from their quarantine were still giving you a wide berth, typically sprinting away from you before temptations got the better of them. However, there was one demon-turned-vampire that seemed to be struggling the hardest. 

Lucifer- rather than take the responsibility upon himself- ordered you to stay away. He was not to be approached, talked to, sought after, etc. You were to leave well enough alone. While there were several things you wanted to say to that, you respected his wishes. Although, it’s not like you could stay out of the House. You still had your attendant duties to work on. Which meant, despite your best efforts, you’d spot him down the hall or pass him in the kitchen. Every time his eyes landed on you, he looked furious, frightened, but then all of that melted away quickly and blossomed into a blush. That’s when you knew exactly why he didn’t want to see you. Seems that he couldn’t control his pride as easily in this vampiric condition. His footsteps would turn towards you, his hands twitching in your direction, and then he would strut away from you, off towards the darkness. 

And that’s the way it continued for a while. Little flickers of fleeting moments with softly uttered names and melting gazes. You knew what he wanted, you weren’t stupid. Yet…you had half a mind to give it to him. 

You weren’t exactly wandering the halls for him at this time of night, just checking to make sure the House was…in proper order before you would have to leave that night. Bumping into Lucifer as you turned the corner of the upper floor potentially in the direction of his bedroom was just a…happy accident. Although, the vampire in question seemed upset at first. His hands couldn’t help but reach towards your shoulders to steady you. In a proper Prideful manner, he furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to give you a stern scolding. You could see his little temporary fangs peeking out below his top lip. “I told you-” he started to say, his voice almost cracking with strain. He cleared his throat and his tone deepened. “I told you to stay away.”

Some force deep inside you caused a smirk to curl on your lips. “And I assure you, I’m doing my utmost to avoid you, but you seem to keep finding me. I wonder why that is?” 

The expression painted over his face suggested he didn’t find this situation as humorous as you did, although there was still a little rosy color adorning his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. The hands that settled on your shoulders moved forward slowly, the curves of his fingers reaching back to your shoulder blades. This gentle touch was in direct contrast to the growl in his voice. He was trying much too hard… “Your foolishness is getting out of hand. I would’ve thought even someone as idiotic as you had the better sense to stay away from a vampire.” 

You hummed in a bit of disappointment at his words, but then you shrugged your shoulders. “You know...you have this awful habit of using bitter words to cover up your feelings.” Your hand lifted to rest against his chest. Air seemed to catch in his throat as you did so. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “So sensitive like this…” You teased him. “Why don’t you just tell me what you really feel?” 

It was almost as if you could feel him melting in your hands. This whole cold and dominant persona was just a smokescreen trying to cover up the fact that he was craving you and desperate for it. His eyes slowly fluttered as the stern features to his body language chipped away. He whispered your name in a heavy breath, leaning a little forward before stopping himself. Little twitches in his fingertips and the shudder in his lungs clued you in to how close he was to breaking. However, his pride was not fully gone it seemed. You both were still out in the hallway and he was hesitant to lose himself where others could see. He went to stand back up straight, moving away from you, but you stopped him with a hand curling back around his neck, forcing your foreheads to touch. That seemed to be the last thing he could handle. His breath was practically a pant now. Without saying another word, he picked you up in all his demonic strength and shut you and him inside his bedroom, pressing you up against the bedroom door. His nose rubbed against your cheek. It was taking everything in him to resist this, you knew that much.

“I…” His voice wavered. “I need you.” There was a dulcet tone to his words, his voice laced with a feathery softness. “I told myself I was simply content with looking at you, but…” That confirmed things for you. Your little meetings weren’t by accident. He’d been intentionally seeking you out to stare at you for a moment before scurrying off. “But I…can’t handle this…ache any longer.” His face lowered, his breath hot as his mouth hovered over the exposed part of your neck. He was so close, so hungry, and yet, he waited. “Do…I have permission?” A simple statement meant to come off as professional, but came off as a beg. 

There was a sort of pride that built up in your chest at the thought of being this wanted, this needed. A pleasureful sort of smugness at hearing Lucifer Morningstar nearly whine for something as simple as a taste of your blood. “Yes,” you replied, your body warm.  

His fingers went up to the back of your head, his grasp carefully tightening around your hair as he pulled your head aside, exposing your neck more. Lucifer held his breath in excitement, his soft lips kissing different areas of your skin before he found his preferred spot. No matter your thoughts or fears about pain, being bitten by a vampire wasn’t terrible at all. You felt the pinch, but shortly after, a comforting heat pooled in your body, as if you could feel a remedy pumping through your veins. The heat was followed by a tingling, your body almost numb to the pain yet extremely sensitive to other sensations. You gasped his name aloud which made him visibly squirm.

You could tell the punctures were deep, blood trickling out of you from the wounds, but immediately being sucked away and swallowed. A low rumble came from the base of Lucifer’s throat, the sound rising in pitch till it almost became a needy whine. For a moment, it seemed as if his knees went weak, but he continued to drink, the hand in your hair moving to the middle of your back, pulling you closer to him. He pulled away from your skin to refill his lungs in a gasp before biting you again in a different spot. You weren’t sure if he was too enamored to speak or too embarrassed to, but you hoped from the little moans that reverberated in his chest like purrs meant that you tasted good. 

He was gentle with it, kissing you in the spots he bit like little apologies. No blood touched your clothes either. Any drop you felt trailing down your skin was quickly lapped up by his tongue. Your name was muttered a few times in a breathy way in the few occasions his mouth was away from your body. His thighs rubbed against yours as he seemed to try to sink further into you, his knee almost pressed up between your legs.

For a long while, it was just you both nearly entangled in each other against his door, your breathing slowly falling into sync with his. His first frantic drinks were now slowly winding down. He was calming, taking you in tenderly now, appreciating every drop, every taste. His hand moved from your back to cup your cheek as he traced your jaw in kisses as he cooed before going back to your blood. He finally stopped feeding when he could tell you were having a hard time standing upright which wasn't entirely due to blood loss. A few last pecks from his red-stained lips and licks from his grateful tongue seemed to seal up your wounds but still leave marks which he traced over with the tip of his finger, proud of his work. He lifted you up into his arms and over to the couch where you both could rest, his face still resting in the crook of your neck, his new favorite place.

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