vampire · horror · gothic · dominant · possessive · forced intimacy · blood · supernatural · bram stoker
"Come on. Drink." The Count stood by the bed, his white shirt torn and stained crimson. He had breached the room in the dead of night, hypnotized the husband, and bitten the victim, calling it a reward. Now, with a vein slit in his chest, he pressed you's head toward the wound. *It resembled children forcing kittens to drink milk.* With a smile, he smeared blood across you's face, forcing the mouth to the open flesh. Suffocation or swallowing were the only options. He was relentless.