VvvvvV [for Fitch, dated Sunday 15th August]

[vvdanicavv]

Nobody could blame her, not really. She'd been sensible, she hadn't rushed in to anything, she'd sat back and considered her options, planned it, taken her time. She'd practically become her brother and he, at least, would be proud

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[sexualtourettes]

The loss of his blanket was what initially started him stirring, fighting against the hold of what had been a peaceful sleep up until a few seconds ago. By the time the weight settles on him, Coop was just lucid enough for panic to kick in, and once his eyes opened he sort of hoped he was still sleeping and that this was all some horrible dream. Or more like a fucking nightmare.

"Danica?" Bleary eyes blinked up at her, but even half asleep there was no mistaking her. That was the nightmare inducing part. Of all the possible people to have sex dreams about why did it have to be her? "What the fuck?!"

[vvdanicavv]

It was a myth that Danica only liked to feed after the sex. Anticipation tasted just as sweet as satisfaction if she was with the right men.

Closing her mouth, she smiled at his reaction, her hair falling from behind her ears. She didn't wait long to open it again. There was patience, which she had shown, and then there was masochism and Danica never subscribed to the latter.

"Wakey wakey," she taunted, before diving down and sinking her new fangs deep into his neck, right over a pulse point, the temptation too much to resist any longer.

[sexualtourettes]

He wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen, but this certainly wasn't it. Or maybe it was, but it was way down on the list of possibilities. The pop, the sudden sharp, stabbing pain; he wanted to scream, to buck her off and run away, but all he could manage was a strangled gasp.

Where the fuck was that blond vampire slayer girl when you needed her?

It's a dream, he tried to remind himself. You couldn't die in your dreams. But Jesus Christ did it hurt like a bitch.

[vvdanicavv]

Mouth filling with blood, Danica guzzled, one hand clutching at Fitch's hair to keep him in place. The Hunger she'd felt over the last twenty four hours drove her on and she was swallowing and swallowing ever before the taste hit her.

It was a natural gag reflex, a human reflex, and she ripped her mouth away after the third or fourth gulp, throat slick with blood, eyes wide with shock. The instant coughing made them water and she scrambled back on the bed, landing on Fitch's feet and retching.