A/N Hello hello! This is just a fun, light one-shot that is directly inspired by nightvowl's Business Work, so go read that if you haven't because it's super awesome. Just wanted to see what it would be like the other way around. Also, I don't know anything about wills but hopefully I remotely sound like I know what I'm talking about in this. And it's pathetic, but your comments and feedback make me so, so happy so please leave something if you can. xoxo
"Pam."
The blonde vampire turned her head as she heard her name exit her progeny's lips. Tara stood a few yards away from her, gazing at her with a sort of impatient concern.
"Helloo?" she uttered as the two of them met eyes. They were situated in the main area of Fangtasia, with Pam seated at a large table in the center of the room. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore a charcoal, raw-edged jacket and a vermillion skirt that hugged her hips and thighs closely. She tapped the heel of her stiletto rhythmically against the floor while they both waited.
It was a Monday and the bar was closed tonight. Tara was in a grey sleeveless tank and dark jeans, and her hair was down, straight and falling over her shoulders. She glared at her maker, who was chewing on the inside of her lip as her foot continued its percussive manner.
Pam's anxiety was understandable. They had only escaped from the Authority a few weeks ago and they were in the middle of an escalating, catastrophic war. No one was safe, and the two of them were well aware of the danger they faced and the precautions they had to take.
The only thing that drove Tara insane was that Pam had a tendency of not hearing her, of being so deep in thought and worry that she was rendered temporarily deaf. Tara found herself continually repeating her words, almost yelling at times to snap Pam out of her fretful rumination. She wanted to help, first of all, in whatever way she could, but there was no way of accomplishing this if Pam lost her ability to communicate.
Tara walked over to her, stopping right behind her and crouching down to drape her arms around her.
"Hey," she said softly, trying a different method. "You okay?"
Pam lowered her head to stare at the table, closing her eyes for a moment when she felt Tara nuzzle her nose into her cheek.
"Yeah," she breathed.
But when Tara felt Pam clench her jaw hard, she was tempted to playfully roll her eyes.
"I don't believe you," she asserted, pressing her lips to her cheek. "You need to relax," she murmured.
Pam didn't respond. Her mind was in fifty different places at once. And now, as she waited for the lawyer to arrive so she could go over her will and ensure Tara was taken care of if anything were to happen to her, the idea of meeting the True Death was becoming even more of a terrifying reality for her. No matter how jaded or sarcastic or bitter she was, she did not wish to die. She loved living, she loved being a vampire, and she loved Tara. Despite a couple bumps in the road since being rescued from the Authority, the two of them had grown incredibly close, not just physically but emotionally as well. Pam still struggled from time to time with relinquishing her walls, but she was getting better at it, and Tara had become a master at overcoming them as well. They could read each other as if they had known each other for centuries. And Tara knew in this moment that Pam was stressed to the point that it was detrimental for her.
She suddenly had an idea and paused for a moment, pondering if it was acceptably ludicrous or not while a tiny smirk graced her face. But before she could make a proper decision, she heard a knock at the front door. Pam's head snapped up and she began to stand up to go answer it. At the very same time, however, Tara ducked down under the table.
Pam's brow immediately wrinkled as she looked down at her. "What are you doing?" she demanded.
"Looking for something," Tara answered plainly.
Pam shook her head in confusion. She crossed her arms and waited as Tara crawled further under the table, wishing she would hurry up. A few moments later, the man rapped at the door again.
"Pam!" Eric called from his office.
"I-I'm getting it!" she exclaimed. She bent over to peer at Tara. "Get up," she ordered with exasperation. "He's here."
But Ginger was already scurrying out of the office. "Oh don't you worry, I got it!"
She promptly pulled the door open and escorted the man in. He was human, in his early 50s, dressed in a grey suit. Most humans were coming nowhere near vampires at the moment, which is why the two of them couldn't do anything out of the ordinary to scare this one away. They had to be civil and composed and on their best behavior if they wanted to get this done.
Pam grabbed a fistful of Tara's shirt, about to yank her up, but an instant later the man was in plain sight making his way over to the table. Pam reluctantly let go and sat down, suddenly hoping Tara would spare them both the embarrassment and stay down there the whole time. Little did Pam know that that is exactly what Tara had already planned.
The man smiled curtly at Pam before reaching his hand out. As Pam extended her arm and shook his hand, Tara crawled forward slightly to push her skirt all the way up her thighs.
Pam was so shocked when she felt this that she squeezed the man's hand a little too hard, only letting go when she saw him visibly wince. She too had a pained expression on her face as she resisted the urge to tug down her skirt and pull Tara up by the throat. She was so grateful that the lower half of her body was obscured from his perspective, but just to be sure, she edged her chair closer to the table. When she felt Tara's hands creeping up her thighs again, she reached down and held them in place. She was pissed, and was so tempted to scratch or squeeze them hard. She resisted though, knowing any sound from down there was the exact opposite of what she wanted.
Pam gave the man a strained smile and lifted one hand from her lap to gesture for him to have a seat. He didn't look visibly perturbed to be there, which was a good sign. As he situated himself, he placed his briefcase on the table and pulled out a packet of papers that he slid across the table.
Pam dragged it closer to herself, and in this moment Tara began tugging at her thong. Pam smacked her hand hard and the man looked up from his paperwork.
"Everything all right?" he queried.
Pam nodded a little too vigorously. "Was just… a fly," she replied hastily.
The man smiled politely before turning the page. "Well let's begin, shall we?"
Pam nodded again as she swallowed. Tara may have wanted her to relax, but Pam was exponentially more tense and distressed at this moment.
The man took out a black fountain pen and twisted the top so the tip emerged. He began to write something but soon paused, lifting his pen to stare at it. He scribbled something on the paper, and his brow furrowed as he scribbled once more to no avail.
"Hm, that's strange. This is a new pen," he stated.
"Here, you can use mine," Pam told him, keeping her torso pressed into the edge of the table as she stood up just slightly to hand him her own pen.
Tara knew this was her moment, and she quickly tugged Pam's underwear down to her ankles.
It took every ounce of self-control Pam had not to scream or flip the table over as this happened. Instead, she bit the inside of her lip so hard that her teeth punctured the soft flesh. The wound quickly healed, and as she sat back down she held her knees together as tightly as she could manage. This new pressure between her thighs wasn't helping the situation though.
And Tara wasn't giving up so easily. A few moments later, she pulled Pam in by the back of the knees so that she was now sitting halfway off her chair. Pam was so startled as her body jerked forward that Tara was able to push her legs open and get her face between them. The man stared at Pam as he tilted his head.
"Just… slipped…" a flustered Pam explained, trying to regain her composure.
The man still appeared somewhat puzzled, but he continued with his notes.
"It says here that your sole beneficiary is your progeny. A Miss … " He turned the page. "A Miss Tara Thornton. Is she present at the moment?"
"N-no," Pam stammered as she shook her head adamantly. "She's not here."
Pam squeezed her legs together again, but all she managed to do was crush Tara's head. Tara groaned and Pam immediately released her hold, terrified that the man heard her.
Fortunately, he had not, but Pam wanted to die when she realized that there was nothing she could do about this. Any action she took to stop this would cause Tara to either be seen or heard by the man, and she hated to admit that there was now a relentless but delicious throbbing between her thighs. The idea of Tara's mouth on her made her ache.
"And I see you've assigned all of your assets to go to Ms. Thornton; however, you are currently the sole legatee of Mr. Northman's estate. Which includes this establishment.. this, um… Fangtasia, as you call it."
Pam was nodding as he spoke, but a moment later she felt her legs being held open forcefully and Tara's supple tongue extending to stroke her clit.
Pam's mouth fell open but she forced herself to immediately close it. Tara blew a breath of cool air between her legs and Pam squirmed in her seat.
"And should Mr. Northman meet the True Death, you will be the sole inheritor of his assets and property..."
Tara pushed her legs open even wider and closed her lips over her pulsing bundle of nerves, beginning to suck fervidly.
Pam brought her hand to her mouth as her forehead grew pinched. A tiny moan escaped her throat and she started blinking rapidly, trying to stay calm. Tara flicked her tongue and Pam's eyes slipped shut for a moment as she whimpered.
"Have you spoken to him about the possibility of a codicil in order to designate shared ownership of his estate with Ms. Thornton?"
Pam was too distracted to answer. Tara had flattened her tongue and had begun licking the length of her in broad strokes. Another louder, high-pitched moan unconsciously exited her lips and her abs began to tense.
"Ms. Beaufort?" the man asked as he stared at her with a mild concern.
Pam swallowed and gritted her teeth, unable to look at him. "S-sorry," she breathed as she stared at the table and clenched her hand into a tight fist. "What… what was the question?"
The man repeated himself, and Pam nodded vigorously as she moved to grip the edge of the table so hard the wood almost crumbled beneath her fingers.
"Y-yes," Pam replied breathily, "I would like to do that."
Tara grasped her thighs tightly as she began to devour her ravenously. She licked and sucked and teased her flesh with her teeth. Pam's lips parted in a silent moan and she couldn't help herself: she reached a hand down to tangle her fingers into her dark, silky mane.
"Certainly. We can do that now, actually, if you could just ask him to come out here and -"
"N-no!" Pam returned a little too emphatically. "Don't bring him ou-" Pam's voice caught in her throat as Tara found the most amazing spot. But she swallowed audibly and forced herself to continue. "Please… don't bring him out right now," she breathed.
Tara began moving her tongue in quick circles around her clit and Pam found herself beginning to pant as she pulled Tara's face in closer to her. She silently cursed that night they had shared a couple weeks ago where they had gone over with each other in detail the specifics of what they liked in bed. Because in this moment, Tara was proving to have a perfect memory, and Pam was overwrought with an equal and consuming amount of lust, worry, and mortification. She desperately tried not to rock her hips into Tara's mouth as she forced herself to pay attention to the man.
"All right then. Well if you turn the page, you see that you will need to sign and initial at the bottom…"
The man stood up to hand her the pen, and Pam panicked at the idea that he could see what has happening. He couldn't, but Pam snatched the pen from him and signed the papers quickly and shakily before handing it back to him.
"Are you feeling all right, Ms. Beaufort?" he asked as his brow wrinkled.
Pam nodded adamantly, but when Tara plunged her tongue deep inside her, a guttural moan exited her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut as her head fell back. She snapped back up again and tried with all her might to keep her body still. When she managed to look at the man, she could see that he was staring at her, looking both perplexed and rather anxious.
"I'm… I'm sorry," she gasped. "I'm not feeling very well…"
Tara continued delving her soft, warm tongue inside of her and Pam felt her whole body starting to shake. She tugged at Tara's scalp and moaned lightly.
Tara withdrew her tongue and began flicking her tongue at an impossible speed, causing Pam's fangs to protract with a click. She instantly covered her mouth with her free hand, frantically trying to retract them but finding herself unable to. When she managed to glance at the man again, she saw he was staring at her with wide eyes, visibly apprehensive.
"N-no, no," she stammered. "It's not… I'm just hungry…" she explained desperately.
The man's eyes grew wider.
"No! Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm not… I'm not going to hurt you…" Pam spluttered.
The man stood up, beginning to back away towards the door.
Pam's body was screaming for release and she didn't know what to do.
Don't stop… Just glamor him after. Let it happen, she thought to herself.
But Pam shook her head and tried to push Tara's face away. Still, she felt incredibly weak now and was unsuccessful. Tara began suckling on her clit more fervently and Pam buried her face in her hands as she groaned.
"I think I should come back another time…" the man whispered.
"No," Pam protested. "No, please, I'm fine, let's- Oh God…"
Her abs began to quake as Tara brought her to the edge. Pam closed her lips, hiding her fangs and trying to stay quiet, but a moment later, she was flooding Tara's mouth and crying out.
She let out a choked moan and covered her face with her hands again. Tara's tongue didn't stop and Pam began to grind her hips freely.
The man was already gone. And now Pam didn't hold anything back. Tara kept flicking and stroking and sucking and Pam screamed as she came again. She reached her other hand down to grip her head hard as her legs kicked frantically at the floor.
Tara lapped her up as Pam shuddered and tugged at her hair. She reached up and squeezed her own breast as her body continued to tremble.
When she finally grew still again, Tara pulled her skirt down and grabbed her black thong. She emerged from under the table and pulled Pam's chair out before sitting down in her lap.
Pam almost seemed human right now; her face appeared flushed and her chest was heaving slightly. She had smeared her own lipstick with her fingers and there were slight indentations at the edge of the table. Tara leaned in and kissed her on the cheek as she grinned at her.
Pam's body felt amazingly satisfied, but her expression suddenly grew stern and irritated as she recalled everything that had just happened.
"I hate you," she uttered.
"No you don't," Tara giggled.
"He should have been writing up your will, because I'm going to fucking kill you," Pam warned.
"You wouldn't kill someone who can make you come like that," Tara murmured wickedly.
Pam glared at her.
"This is not funny, Tara. He's not coming back. You're the one who's going to be fucked if we don't get this done."
"I don't care about your money. And you're going to be fine. We both are," Tara assured her coolly.
Pam was not convinced. Jessica and Jason had been captured and imprisoned as soon as they had all escaped, and Eric had almost been killed the other night as well.
"Never took you for an optimist," Pam mumbled.
"Never took you for a screamer," Tara teased.
"Oh fuck off," Pam muttered.
"You know you love me," Tara giggled.
"Well then I'm fucking crazy," Pam retorted as her brow rose.
Her face remained deadly grave for a moment, but when the two of them locked eyes, Pam couldn't resist a tiny smile creeping onto her face. Tara laughed and Pam's smile widened.
She began to stand up and Tara slid off of her and did the same. A moment later, Pam shoved Tara's shoulders so hard that she almost stumbled backwards.
Her expression was serious again, but her eyes were now gleaming with a fixed sort of resolve.
"Let's see who the screamer really is…" she practically growled.
Tara laughed, and Pam pushed her towards the bedroom again, following closely behind.