SS Vampire AU

marseilless:

I knew I should be afraid of him, that I should leave if I wanted to walk out of it intact but being his maid was necessary to my survival you see. Jobs are hard to find, especially in occupied territories. That’s what I told myself every night before I fell asleep. Frankly there was a true reason behind it and I knew it deep down, knew what his cold stare did to me. Danger was erotic.

He would stare at me often. When I was cleaning or every night while I was making dinner. Ever since he had come back from the east. I saw him with the corner of my eye. He was different now somehow. He always had something arrogant and cold about him but now he seemed more… hungry, in a way. I caught myself staring at him too. That was my first mistake.

I cut myself. Silly me, I was too busy watching him to pay attention to the meat I was preparing. I yelped as the blade tore my skin and drew blood. I heard him get up and walk towards me until he was right behind me. I turned around and looked at the flour in shame. “I’m sorry-”

He cut me off as he took my finger and brought it in his lips and licked the blood clear off. I was staring mesmerized, the feeling of his tongue aganst my skin making my heart beat faster. He looked at me right in the eyes then and smirked aganst my skin. He then moved closer, his body leaning into mine and kissed me! His lips were soft and I felt the taste of my blood on his mouth. He then buried his face at my neck, kissing and biting gently.

I was completely frozen on the spot. His hands surrounded my body as he held me, running up and down, exploring and I had forgotten how to speak, how to breathe. I only left a tiny sign as he bit my neck with a little more force. More and more until I felt sharp teeth deep into my flesh, my veins, and I gasped in pain but there was no point. By now he held me with an iron grip and it was too late, too late and I was a fool to think that I was anything more to him that what the poor cow had been to the butcher that sold it to us for dinner.

SS Vampire AU

pomegranateandpanzer:

The pervasive scent of blood hung in the frigid Ukrainian air like a metallic mist, tightening his throat with a parched desperation that the bottle of schnapps in his fist did nothing to quench. It had been weeks since Wünsche had last fed, just a harmless bite into a pale and more than willing neck, like teeth into an apple; the writhing body under his weight arousing both of his appetites as the bloodlust washed over him with a warmth that even the mere memory of functioned to block out the icy wind that brought his men to the brink of hypothermia while he remained an unfazed figure, standing among the tanks in the biting flurries of snow, a few droplets of faded scarlet mingling among the stains on his white coveralls.

The pangs of thirst haunted him as the siege wore on, the city of Kharkov reeking of blood and rot as the fighting inched through the carnage and slush streaked streets day after day. He had allowed himself just a minuscule tasting of the blood of a young grenadier shredded apart by shrapnel in the chaotic darkness of a nighttime barrage, a few frantic gulps of anemic warmth, enough to take the edge off, steady his hands, sate the clench in his throat that felt like razor wire. It kept his fangs tucked away from sight as he flashed his toothy grin for the camera, his fresh Ritterkreuz gleaming at his neck as Meyer watched on with fatherly pride, a knowing glint in his steely blue eyes. His little cub needed to feed, and he had just the reward in mind.

In a nearly decimated building off the newly dubbed Platz der Leibstandarte, where the sounds of revelry would drown out any sounds of struggle, Wünsche eyed his reward with a gleaming smirk, the sharpness of his fangs peeking from behind his tongue moistened lips. With a tenderness that seemed jarringly out of place, he tilted Peiper’s head to the side, eyeing the erratic pulsing of the slighter man’s jugular with curiosity, his thumb running over the vein like a lover’s caress. Wünsche suddenly nipped at the exposed skin, just barely breaking the outer layer, little droplets of blood speckling the white turtleneck pushed down by thumbs. The breathy gasp and sudden smell of arousal that filled the stale room upon the touch of teeth to skin spurred Wünsche onwards, pressing his fangs inwards through layers of skin and venous membrane. Thick blood that tasted of alcohol and amphetamines coursed down his throat like fine wine, while the hard cock pressing against his thigh grew softer as he greedily drank from the wound, his tongue probing at it sporadically just for the twitch and groan the action produced from Peiper’s dry mouth.

“That’s enough, Max…” Meyer cut in, pulling Wünsche away with a gush of blood and flash of teeth, his own fangs shining against his battle weary face, lured out by the overwhelming smell of blood and cum. The blond wiped his stained mouth with the back of his hand as he eyed his limp looking meal, red tinged fangs retracting into his gums as the white hot frenzy cooled to a simmering throb coursing through his body. He stepped closer, the shallow breaths deafening in his ears with his senses heightened, and gently turned Peiper’s head side to side, smirking at the faded fang marks on one side and the fresh wound on the other. His favorite forbidden fruit. He would turn him eventually, like Meyer had turned him all those months ago in Mariupol, but not before he was ready to mark Peiper one last time.

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