Full Ask: sexxyllamavampire/bucktooth22: Hi! It's Bucktooth22 from fanfiction. After reading a bunch (and by a bunch I mean a lot) of the stories you had on fanfiction, and messaging you, a prompt occured to me. I was wondering if you could write a Johnlock fic where John is an omega werewolf and Sherlock is a posessive vampire? Please? *hopeful grin* if Tumblr doesnt eat my message again :E thank youuu!

Prompt originally received 2015-01-10.

I've always wanted to do a Underworld fusion.

Cross-posted from AO3 same day.


"..., Lord Mycroft shall oversee the arrival of the humans' tributes, and Lord Sherlock-"

"Shall be talking his monthly sabbatical. As he has done every month for decades," Sherlock smoothly interrupts, standing in the face of the Council's startled looks. He doesn't know why they're startled- it should have been expected behaviour centuries ago. They're lucky he attends at all, which he only does because Mycroft has threatened to take his slave if he didn't. "Come, John," he calls, striding across the room.

His slave walks out from from behind Sherlock's high-backed chair, bare feet silent against the stone as he follows without a word.

No one tries to intersect them until they're nearly back to his rooms, and then Jim emerges from the shadows, lips twisted in the taunting grin he favours.

"Why do you take your slave out every new moon, I wonder," he says, lingering in the space between Sherlock and John, staying just of out his eyesight and lingering at his shoulder. Sherlock is sure that, if Jim had been any taller, he'd be breathing down his neck. "One must wonder why an alpha departs home during the time of the omega's heat. Could it be because his own slave is an omega? Why not share, let someone else take the burden?"

Before he can say another word, Sherlock whirls around, catching the shorter alpha by the throat and pinning him to the wall. John knows better than to raise his head at the altercation- he has the scars from silver-tipped whips across his skin to prove it- but Sherlock can see the tilt of a smirk on his lips and he knows that he'll be licking it off as soon as they're back in the safety of his rooms. Jim is smirking too, but the only urge he has with his is to rip it off.

"The care of my slave is mine and mine alone. And I will not share what is mine. Go occupy your time with your own slaves." It's as much of a threat as he can make; they both know what would happen to him and John should he declare more care for a werewolf than is socially expected. It's a good thing he's an alpha and that territoriality is expected from his secondgender.

"Of course. Forgive me for overstepping, Lord Sherlock," Jim smiles, reaching up to uncurl Sherlock's long nails from his neck.

Sherlock watches him until he walks away, and then continues to stride back to his room, fighting the desire to run, to take John back to his room and mark him until there's no doubt that he's Sherlock's and Sherlock's alone.


"Why won't you allow someone else to mount me, Lord Sherlock," John asks breathlessly, writhing on the rocks. His skin is already flushed with the beginning of his heat and his eyes are hooded above his smirk when Sherlock turns to look at him.

The vampire doesn't move from his post at the entrance of the cave, scouring the night air below the cliff for anyone who might smell his omega and come running to take what's his, but he does growl. John laughs and presses another finger inside of where he's already wet and waiting, more than prepared.

"Imagine it, another wolf, another vampire, mounting me, tiring us out over the course of my heat, leaving you free to do your experiments," the werewolf taunts, his free hand smoothing down his chest and stomach to wrap around his cock, hard and leaking where it lays against his skin.

"It's expected of us slaves, after all. To be be traded amongst the alphas and used by whatever cock is ready to take us."

Sherlock knows it's a falsehood, that John would never let himself be taken by another, but his possessiveness is inflamed by the mere thought of another touching his omega and he storms away from the cave entrance and drops to his knees between John's spread legs. His fingers are deathly pale against the tan of the wolf's skin when he wraps them around John's wrists, pulling them away from their tasks. His omega tries to roll over, to present from him, and the alpha growls again, pushing the male's wrists to the rock and settling his weight between the omega's thighs.

"Don't," he warns.

John laughs breathlessly and undulates up into him. "You don't want your fangs in the back of my neck? Marking me? Mating me?"

Sherlock snarls and grinds his cock against where his omega is dripping against the rocks as he pushes John's wrists up above his head, pressing them both into the tight grasp of one hand.

"Don't tempt me," he huffs, guiding himself to John's fluttering hole and pushing inside. "You know as well as I do that we'll die if I do, and I won't have your death on my head. I won't have your death at all," he vows, but John isn't hearing him anymore. His omega's eyes have already glazed over with the fulfillment of an alpha's cock, and they roll back when he begins to thrust.

"You're mine, John, and I will not let anything take you from me."

FIN


I am a pile of shit for taking so long to answer this. Reblog the thing (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, tagged/A Slave's Worth).