I Bloody Love You
A/N: Pathetic title is pathetic, I didn't even try lmao. Also, it hasn't been proofread, so good luck with any errors :')))
Word count: 1.5k
Pairing: Father Paul x (AFAB) reader
Tags: established relationship, Father Paul is a vampire and reader knows it, period blood, period sex, blood play, smut, pwp
NOT RELATED TO MY OTHER FATHER PAUL FICS
You winced at the sudden, sharp tug in your stomach, then groaned as the pain intensified. You clutched your lower abdomen and bent over, gripping the kitchen counter with your other hand.
“Darling?” Father Paul asked, sounding alarmed, turning around on the couch and putting down his book to look at you.
“It’s nothing, it’s fine,” you groaned and tried to smile, but it came off as a grimace.
Father Paul was about to say something, but he stopped with an open mouth and flaring nostrils. You watched him through half-lidded eyes.
“You’re bleeding.” His voice was quiet, so quiet, barely a whisper, and he got up, slowly, the book long forgotten.
“Yeah, I am,” you admitted through gritted teeth. “It happens, it’s the natural cyclus of a woman, but fuck, I wish it wasn’t.”
Father Paul looked like he was torn between hugging you and telling you that everything would be all right, that this would pass, and tearing off your skirt and tights to drink up the blood seeping from your most intimate place.
Simply thinking it made you utter a shaky whimper, and immediately, Father Paul was beside you, putting one of his hands on yours that clutched your stomach, and the other on your lower back.
“What do you need?” he asked softly, his voice uncharacteristically rough, and you knew it was hard for him to control the urges that came with being a vampire.
“An orgasm would be fucking splendid,” you replied hoarsely, and although you had only been joking, there was a small part of you that would love nothing more than to have him drinking your blood and sucking on your clit at the same time.
He visibly tensed, and you could feel his hand grip yours tighter.
“I was kidding, love, I didn’t mean---”
He left your side without a word, and you momentarily feared that he had been offended, hurt, or something along those lines, but that fear was curbed when you saw him walk towards his bedroom while carrying a huge blanket.
“Come, come with me, please.” He may have been polite, but the power in his voice invited no arguments.
With shaky legs and another groan leaving your lips, you stumbled after him into the bedroom where he had put the blanket over the bed.
“I... I haven’t got a tarp, so this will have to do. Now, please, get on the bed, in the center.”
Blinking rapidly in your confusion, you eventually crawled onto the bed. The blanket was thick and soft, the bed comfortably dipping as you moved to the center. As you slumped against the blanket, letting your lower back rest, you let out a deep, contented sigh. It turned into a startled yelp when Father Paul got on the bed as well, crawling between your legs where he nuzzled your inner thighs.
You felt the typical tell-tale pulse in your stomach, a sign of blood making its way through your womb and ovaries, and seconds later, you felt it leak into your underwear. You weren’t wearing a pad or tampon - you hadn’t had the time - and made a miserable sound of embarrassment.
Seconds later, Father Paul moaned softly and pressed his mouth against your crotch beneath your skirt. You jerked by the sudden contact, but when he began sucking and licking in earnest, you simply sighed and thrust your hips up against his face. He growled and pinned you down by the hips as he mouthed your clothed pussy.
“Oh fuck, Father,” you sighed and buried your hand in his luscious hair, desperate to tug him closer.
“Wrong prayer,” he teased with an unnervingly deep and gruff voice before he pulled down your tights and underwear in a single, smooth motion.
Now it was his turn to sigh, and he pulled back to look at you, suddenly bashful.
“You promised me an orgasm, now get to it, Father,” you chuckled, then groaned as another frisson of pain went through your stomach and lower back. You automatically clutched your lower abdomen.
“Promise it’s alright?”
“If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have gotten this far.”
His eyes shone in that eerie way they did when catching the light just right, and you were - once more - reminded of what he was. Not only was he a priest, he was also a vampire. And vampires feasted on blood, blood that you were all too willing to give, but it felt… weird to let him feed on your period blood.
“Do your thing, Father. That’s an order.”
With a shaky moan, he dove beneath your skirt again, and oh, feeling his mouth on you made positively delirious with arousal.
His tongue was hesitant at first, only touching you briefly and lightly, a few awkward licks, until he couldn’t help himself any longer. With all the ferocity of a parched man being handed a pitcher of water, he licked and sucked and kissed your pussy. You gasped and whined and moaned, and your sounds mixed with his, squelching and wet and sloppy.
“Fuck,” you gasped, tugging his face closer to your pussy as your hips bucked upwards, seemingly by themselves. He growled and grabbed them so tightly you feared they would break. It hurt, but it was a wonderful kind of pain that had you moaning and cursing again.
Your blood got smeared all over your folds and clit, and when his nose bumped against the throbbing bud, you all but cried out in pleasure. He repeated the motion, nuzzling your clit before giving it a light, playful lick. Your back arched, and you mewled pathetically.
“Again,” you hissed.
He obeyed, but only for a few seconds before he sucked firmly, and your world crumbled around you. You inhaled sharply, tested his strength by trying to push your hips against his face again. You couldn’t move even an inch. Being practically immobilized was something you had not yet tried, but now that you were restrained, you couldn’t help the throaty, guttural grunt that left you.
“Father!” It was a shrill exclamation, and if your sense of hearing didn’t betray you, Father Paul snickered as he sucked on your clit before eventually going back to licking it like it was his last chance at salvation.
Eagerly, greedily, he licked you with loud, wet sounds that seemed to bounce around in your skull, echoing and intensifying until you couldn’t focus on anything else but that and the heavenly pleasure he was giving you. He moaned and groaned, shoving his tongue inside you to scoop out the blood.
In a flash of self-awareness, you blushed deeply and were on the verge of pushing him away when his tongue lapped against you in such a perfect way that you had to moan - loudly and unabashedly - and you couldn’t fathom how you could ever have thought of denying him this. He was so clearly into it, and, truth be told, so were you.
“Father, please, I’m so close,” you whimpered, your fingers carding through his soft, black curls.
He pulled back and looked at you, and the sight was somewhat terrifying - his face covered in your blood and his eyes shining like that - yet also incredibly arousing. The red liquid trickled down his cheeks and down his chin, onto your lower stomach where it tickled you, making you giggle breathlessly.
“That wasn’t a cue to stop.”
You tried to sound authoritative, but it very obviously didn’t work. He simply grinned at you before diving right back into your pussy, bringing you to orgasm so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. You didn’t have time to grab his hair, so when euphoria crashed over you, your hands were in the air, hovering above his head. His name was quietly on your lips as he licked you mercilessly, tongue flicking over your clit and stroking your folds over and over again.
When you were finally spent, you relaxed with a shaky sigh and tapped his temple twice. He obediently pulled back while licking his lips.
“Was that... was that okay?” he asked quietly, unable to quell the urge to wipe his face with his hands and lick the blood off of them. Watching him, you shuddered and moaned.
“That was more than okay, my love.”
He smiled. You smiled back and carefully swung your legs over the edge of the bed.
“Where are you going?” He sounded like a brokenhearted dog looked.
“To the bathroom. I’m... quite a mess,” you chuckled and stumbled towards the small bathroom to clean yourself.
Nodding, he sat down on the bed and awaited your return. Having washed and dried off yourself, you entered the rectory’s bedroom again. Father Paul looked up at you, his eyes shining in the darkness, and though it used to terrify you, it was now a familiar and even welcome sight.
You walked over to him and stood between his legs - spread obscenely wide - to cup his face carefully. He might have licked his face clean, but there were still traces of blood here and there.
“What a miracle,” you whispered and kissed his forehead for a long moment, “you and I being alive at the same time.”
He made a soft, almost broken sound and wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you flush against him.
“You are the miracle I’ve been looking for, my dear.”