A/N: Even though I'm uploading this just minutes after midnight, I finished the one-shot before it, so that still counts, right? I hope so! Anyways, I got this idea from True Blood. I know right? Who would've thunk? True Blood. Without further ado (I love this sentence), enjoy the second day of SpookyOQ.
Rating: M-ish
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything but my mistakes, which, should you see them, please point them out, thank you.
Blood
Vampires were great at sex. At least, that's what she heard from the legends and myths going around town. Being the blood-thirsty creatures of the night that they were, vampires were said to be rough in bed, and unlike the sozzled knuckleheads she'd been with every night of her life, they knew how to please a woman. The fables claimed they'd go on for hours on end, stop at nothing, feed and then fuck, or feed and fuck, take whatever they want.
But they also weren't real.
Vampires, just like werewolves, dwarves, and other humanoid mythical creatures, didn't exist. They were stories made up to frighten little children into staying home after nightfall and going to bed early, so the big, mean vampires won't sink their pearly white, sharp fangs into their necks and drain them, or to strike terror into the whores like her by old preachers attempting to guide them out of the sinful brothels and towards the shrines of God, one step closer to Heaven. It didn't work, it never did. It gave her and the other girls extra topics to gossip about, though.
Hair-raising stories started rumors when women came forward, claiming they've been with these beasts at some point, revealing the two healing punctures in their necks or the inside of their thighs as a proof. Though, it wasn't enough for anyone to believe. Anything could've caused their injuries, it could even be self-inflected because vampires, whether they existed or not, were described as dangerous varmints, leaving a trail of blood and corpses wherever they went. The women in question were well and alive, nothing but two scars marking their bodies. However, it was understandable. They lived in a tinpot town, the attention brought to them from those stories would've done them good. It would've earned them some fame, enough to get them some money to help their poor situations.
"Are you done for the night?" Malaney asked. She was one of the handful of girls around the brothel Regina didn't clash with. They weren't friends, but they were friendly to a certain degree, mainly because their personalities were identical. They were both crude and stubborn, and they both submitted to this life at the tender age of seventeen. Malaney, or Mal as she preferred to be called, was older. She was much more experienced and she guided Regina through her first days, gave her a list of all the things she needed to memorize, the things she should and shouldn't do. Mal's first rule was to always be strong and prepared. She'd come across all sorts of men; the big, the small, the ones that reeked, the ones that dominated, the ones that had certain fetishes and demands, and on rare occasions, some that were high-profile. Regina despised those, they were too cocky, arrogant even though half of them couldn't even get it up, but they paid well.
"I am," Regina confirmed, hands reaching behind her to unlace her corset. "Disappointed, as usual but that's not a surprise — do you know that not a single man out of the dozens I had tonight managed to satisfy me? Not even one of them," she scoffed. "I just laid there and moaned as though I was having the time of my life, possibly boasted their ego, too. I had to even ask one of them if he was already in because I couldn't feel a thing, apparently he'd been in for a good minute," she trailed off with a shrug, and Mal laughed behind her, swatting her hands away to get the rest of the laces. "Do you ever get used to it? I know I'm not and I've been doing this for almost five years now."
"You do realize every person is different than the other, don't you?" Mal husked. "I got used to this life a year after getting into it. Perhaps you're not because you're expecting much more from those schmucks than what they're willing to offer. Get your head out of the clouds, Regina. You won't find your Prince Charming here, definitely not in those men. They come to the cathouse seeking pleasure, not a wife."
"You don't know that," Regina muttered, and frankly, neither did she. She was holding onto that tiny speck of hope that something, rather someone might come along and carry her out of this gutter. Who could blame her? She lived an abhorrent life, dreaming was her only escape.
"I do," Mal affirmed, turning her around and cupping her face forcefully in-between her forefinger and thumb. "Listen to me, Regina. Stop fantasying about a life of love and riches, your life doesn't even belong to you anymore. Your life— all of our lives belong to Gold. The only way to get it back is to pay him and you can't afford that, and do you truly think any man would pay a hefty amount for a whore?"
Regina pursed her lips and averted her eyes, pushing the blonde's hand away. Mal was right, she would never admit it out loud, but she was right. Who would pay for her to gain her freedom? Anyone with half a brain and money to spare. Anybody else would pay to claim her as their own, and that latter was likely to happen.
"You'll get used to it," Mal swore, tucking a strand behind Regina' s ear. "You just have to stop believing in the things that will never happen. Now, you be careful on the way back home."
Regina never got used to it.
Months flew by and everything was still the same, the only difference there was is that she believed in the good a little less, and she stopped dreaming entirely of the day her knight in a shining armor would come around and sweep her off her feet. She wasn't a damsel in distress, she would never label herself as one, but she couldn't deny the fact that she needed some help to get out of this place. But one man in after another, and it felt less and less possible.
"I thought you were done for the night," Mal commented with creased brows at the sight of Regina reapplying her makeup.
"I thought so, too," Regina sighed, setting the lipstick tube on the vanity in front of her. She stared long and hard at her reflection through the mirror and frowned. This wasn't her — the crazy hairdo, the heavy makeup, the lingerie. But that's all she'd seen for the past five years, she didn't recognize herself without it all anymore. "Apparently there's a customer that came here specifically for me, and you know Gold, he never turns down a dime."
"But—"
"Our lives—" Regina interrupted, turning around to face Mal with a deadpan expression. "Don't belong to us," she reminded. "We ought to get used to it, don't we? I'll see you tomorrow at dusk."
In the nearby room, Regina found her client waiting for her on the bed with his back turned to her. From what she could see, he was nicely dressed, cladded in a fitted suit. He was wealthy, she heard from the girls whispering outside that he offered to pay Gold twice the usual for the sake of having her, and that intimidated her. Although she hadn't been with one in a long time, all the well-heeled men she'd ever been with were harsh and controlling; she certainly wasn't looking forward to this.
"Good evening," she greeted in a husked tone, and the man jumped on his feet. She flinched back against the door, preparing herself for the worst, after all, most that came were drunk and needed to get off, they didn't waste a single second with her. But he took her completely by surprise when he bowed his head and flashed her a genuine smile, and Gods, she didn't realize how handsome he was at first glance. He was making her all tingly on the inside with those deep pair of dimples on either of his cheeks and his baby blue eyes.
"Good evening, Miss Mills," he replied.
"R—Regina will do."
"Regina," he repeated with a nod, his smile only growing. "It's a lovely name for a beautiful lady like yourself." He had manners, too. What on earth brought him to this filth?
Unlike the others, he didn't yank her to him and roughly rip apart her lingerie, then throw her down on the bed and take her however he pleased. Instead, he extended his hand and patiently waited for her to slip hers into it, and when she did, he pulled her flush against him, tucked a strand behind her ear, and lowered his mouth to her neck. He was cold, that was the first thing she took notice of, every touch made her shiver, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant.
He latched onto her, sucking and nipping at her smooth, olive skin, and usually she would be against it, she was opposed to anyone marking her, but he barely started and she was lost in the way he made her feel. To hell with the lovebites he'd leave behind, neck kisses made her knees grow weak, she never knew that until now. She also enjoyed the attention that was given to her breasts as much as she enjoyed everything else, from the way his lips closed around her sensitive nipples and his tongue flicked over them, to the way he teased them by rolling them between his fingers and tugging at them.
It was all too wonderful, incredible. It was going better than she thought it would, until she felt something sharp graze along her neck, pressing lightly into her skin. She wasn't sure if it was a figment of her imagination or if she was truly feeling his…teeth on her. It was odd, but her mind was hazy from the feeling of him being buried to the hilt inside her, she couldn't be sure. She didn't stress over it and focused on the feeling of his cock slamming into her with force, his pelvis rubbing against her clit with every thrust. It was too much pleasure, it felt greater than all the times she used her fingers to feel something…she was almost there, then it happened again, his teeth pressed into her, a little harder this time.
"What are you doing?" Regina whispered, the fear evident in her voice.
"I'm sorry," he grunted. "I—I can't control it, I'm sorry."
It confused her, but the words died at the tip of her tongue when his teeth punctured through her skin, sending a wave of pain through her body. Her nails dug into his back as she stiffened and panicked, but only for a split second before realization set in. A vampire. Those were fangs and he was a vampire. All the women that came forward about being with those beasts were telling the truth, they existed. She didn't fight him, she didn't push him away and scream for help, she tilted her head slightly to the side and gave him a better access to her neck, one hand pressing to the back of his head, bringing him even closer.
Never in her wildest dreams did Regina think the day would come where she would be bedded by a vampire, a creature she didn't believe existed until now. He wasn't hideous as she expected his kind to look like, he was striking, and he wasn't vicious, either. The sex was rough but not painfully so, and he healed the wounds he inflected on her and apologized, too. Aside from the fact that he drank her blood and savored every drop of it, he almost appeared as a normal human being.
"How come you've got a reflection?" she inquired, gazing over at him as he tidied himself up in front of the mirror. "I thought your kind couldn't be seen through mirrors."
He chuckled, "That's a myth."
"What else is a myth?" she asked, propping herself up on her elbow.
"A lot of things," he answered, fastening the last button on his shirt as he turned around to face her with a smile. "That we can shift into bats, that's not true. Garlic doesn't keep us away, at least, not in a way a holy water or a cross would shoo a demon, and speaking of crosses, those don't work on us, either."
"Do you sleep in coffins or do you have to be buried in the ground?"
"Coffins, although we do get buried at one point, but that's a different story," he explained, then bent down to kiss the top of her head. "I'm afraid I have to leave, it's almost dawn."
"So that's true? You can't walk in daylight?"
He nodded, "And our day is your night, if we don't lay down, we get tired."
"Take me with you," she blurted out.
"Regina—"
"No, take me with you," she repeated, this time in a more demanding manner. "You can feed off me, I'll accept the fate of being your bloodbag over living in this brothel for another day. Please, let me go with you."
But he declined, shaking his head in refusal, and she felt the tears well up in her eyes, hoping that they would be enough to convince him to change his mind, but he gathered the remainder of his clothes, and in a blink, he disappeared. Leaving her without a second glance, a second thought about taking her with him.
He was her only way out, he could've been, in a way, her knight in a shining armor, but he was gone, and she didn't even know his name.
A/N: You don't have to say it, I already know the brief smutty paragraph was awful and pretty cringy, I'm sorry, I tried, I really tried. Reviews will be appreciated, though, thank you!
