Work Text:
“I want to fuck you,” Historia husked.
Ymir’s ears warmed immediately. Historia was pressed against her side, the front of her shirt almost open to reveal her full, creamy cleavage. Those darkened blue eyes looked up at her underneath thick lashes. Ymir knew immediately that those eyes pretended to be innocent. Her face looked as such. She looked so soft and gentle. But the lipstick on her lips said otherwise. She smiled in a way that was dangerous, leaned in closely. Ymir knew she hadn’t imagined Historia’s words.
Swallowing, Ymir turned away from that hypnotizing gaze to look down at her drink. It was empty. Had she finished it already? She hardly even remembered ordering it. She hadn’t expected to meet someone like Historia here, of all places. The Capital was supposed to be a safe zone, free of them. Free of the allure, the danger.
“Look,” Ymir started, face blazing. There was no denying how her heart was racing, how tight her clothes suddenly felt. The heat seeping through her skin was unbearable. “I just came here for a drink.”
“You know what I am,” Historia observed sweetly. She flicked her eyes about, gauged the expressions around her. When she deemed the situation safe, she inched even closer, and her breasts pressed harshly against Ymir’s arm. Ymir tensed at the sensation, but didn’t push it away. “Why don’t you report me?”
Ymir swallowed. “At this point I don’t think I physically can.”
“I’m hungry,” Historia growled softly. Her eyes darkened still, and they were almost black now. It was almost frightening, and Ymir had no doubt that she was starving. Ymir would be her meal.
“So order something,” she suggested as a joke, lifting an arm to point at the bar. A man whisked past carrying a tray of snacks, though Ymir knew the aroma would not catch Historia’s senses at all. Most likely the pounding of her heart, the heat between her legs, would attract Historia more.
Historia tilted her head, puzzled. “You resist me,” she said. “How?”
Ymir snorted, then furrowed her brows. “Actually, I can barely move right now.”
Historia hummed in response, and then she leaned away and hopped off the stool. “Come,” she ordered. It sounded dirty, the way she said it, and the way her eyes flashed and her lips pulled into a smirk, she had intended it that way. Ymir’s face burnt again as she obeyed without question and stood. Historia was so much shorter than her, so small, but by far more powerful. “Follow.”
Ymir was powerless to stop. As Historia moved, so did she. They left the bar, replaced the dank, humid air for the fresh breeze outside. Historia released a breathy sigh at the change. She headed across the road, towards the nearby forest. Ymir should have tried to fight it, to resist. She should have been frightened. But the endorphins running through her blood, the adrenalin forced into her, distracted her from the very real danger. Historia kept her on an invisible leash, and Ymir was at a point that she would get on all fours and howl.
“I was surprised,” Historia started, stepping over a few broken branches littering the ground. “To find your kind here. The Capital should have flushed you out.”
Ymir broke from the spell enough to flash her teeth in amusement. “We learn to evade,” she explained. “Like you have. How many of you are here?”
“A few,” Historia hummed. “But they do not feed here. It’s too risky.”
“So why me, now?”
They came to a stop, and it felt like the leash around Ymir’s throat tightened. Historia turned, and then shoved her against a nearby tree. She pressed against Ymir’s front, breasts against her, almost spilling from her open top. Ymir was shocked when a growl dropped from her lips.
“Looks like my doggie is hungry,” Historia commented. She giggled, and the sound was so innocent, so gentle, that it was sinful. How could a creature like this be so cute? It was maddening. “The full moon isn’t even out yet.”
“Shut up,” Ymir growled. “You know that’s bullshit.”
“Oh, do I ever.”
Historia ran her hands over Ymir’s covered chest, and then ripped the fabric apart to reveal her tanned, freckled skin. She made a strange sound in her throat, one that was almost a growl, but now quite. Ymir had heard it before, but it wasn’t right. Historia shouldn’t have been able to make that sound. And when she looked up, eager, her eyes had shifted from black, to red. Her eyes shouldn’t have been able to do that, either. The haze was so strong, however, that Ymir couldn’t break from it to stop.
“I smelt you,” Historia answered the earlier question. “I’ve always wanted to consume one of your kind. All of you are so, primal. Needy, aggressive, hungry. Almost like us, though we are more graceful about it.”
“We don’t kill our lovers,” Ymir interjected. “We use them, enjoy them, then leave them for the next.”
“As do I,” Historia rebutted. “I might accidentally eat too much at a time, but it doesn’t entirely matter, does it?”
Ymir rolled her eyes. “You are so full of bullshit.”
“How do you see right through me?”
“I have eyes.”
Historia’s hands stilled just underneath Ymir’s breasts, and then shot upwards so quickly that they were a blur, to grab at Ymir’s face and pull it down. “You do,” Historia agreed. “Such lovely eyes. They aren’t brown anymore. Is that from my scent? Am I successfully driving you mad? Or is it you on your own?”
Ymir bit at her bottom lip. “I could run away whenever I want,” she surmised.
“Oh, you think so?”
“I know so. I’m stronger than you.”
“Physically,” Historia countered. Her hands dropped, so she cupped Ymir’s small breasts and smirked when Ymir hissed and pushed into her. “But I can kill you from the force of your arousal. Did you know that? Just by touching you, I can overload your system, fry your brain.”
“I can resist,” Ymir hissed. It wasn’t that Historia was groping her, it was that Historia’s skin was maddening. Wherever they touched, Ymir burned for her. She could already feel the wetness seeping down her thighs, and she was still clothed. The heady scent of her own arousal surrounded them. Ymir wondered if Historia could smell it too.
“What will you do?” Historia asked. She casually tweaked at Ymir’s nipples, not even blinking. “Will you change? Then claw me apart?”
Ymir glanced down at Historia, at her bared cleavage, the smooth lines of her stomach, since her top was cropped. Her thighs were pale and creamy, as well. She was barefoot, though the ground was rough. Yet again Ymir’s clothes felt too tight.
“No,” Ymir gasped. She would not harm that perfect skin.
Historia grinned. “Then let’s move along, shall we? I really am very hungry, and I hope you can sate it.” She leaned forward and ran her lips along Ymir’s strong throat, earning a deep, angry growl. Ymir whimpered like a puppy. “I’ve always wanted to feed on a cynan like you,” she breathed out, unable to stop herself.
“What are you?” Ymir gasped. This sensation… Ymir had encountered a succubus before, but not like this. There was something about Historia that made her blood pulse.
“My mother was a succubus,” Historia answered. She sucked lightly at Ymir’s collarbone, and then Ymir felt intensely sharp teeth graze against her skin, drawing blood even though they moved so gently, so slowly. “And my father was a vampire.”
Ymir couldn’t help it, her head fell back and she let rip a loud, agonized howl. Any cynan or lycan in the area would hear her, hear the plea, but they would stay away.
“Ever fucked a vampire before?” Historia asked, lips travelling lower, over Ymir’s breasts to her hard stomach. She left painful bites as she went, blood smearing in her path. Ymir writhed in agony, in ecstasy.
“Never,” Ymir gasped.
Historia grinned. “Then I’ll sort of be your first. I’ve never fucked a weredog before, either, if that makes you feel any better.”
Ymir, panting, glanced down at Historia to glare at her. “You’re having a fucking blast, aren’t you?”
Historia ripped Ymir’s pants off in one fluid motion, and then closed her eyes and inhaled. She seemed to change slightly then, seeming less succubus and more vampire. Her eyes were redder when she opened them, black irises blown wide. “Yes, and you will too.”
Ymir was naked. She was bitten and bleeding. The angry howl at the back of her head wouldn’t stop. It urged her to shift, and she was trying, but Historia’s allure stopped her. Historia kept her mostly human. She could feel her eyes constantly shifting and her canine fangs were out, but that was it. Ymir had a feeling that Historia had personally selected which traits she had wanted Ymir to shift only.
“You’re something else,” Ymir told her, looking down. Historia looked like she could barely hear her, couldn’t comprehend human speech. Her eyes were wide, crazed. She licked her lips.
“Spread your legs,” Historia commanded.
Ymir’s legs moved immediately. Historia spoke with such… power, command. It was insane how Ymir couldn’t resist something so simple. She had a feeling that this night might be her last, and it was Historia’s influence that made her feel that it wasn’t such a bad thing.
Historia wasted no time and dived forward, sinking her teeth into Ymir’s thigh. Ymir howled in pain, but almost collapsed when at the same time a rush of pleasure swept up her spine. Historia drew back, licked her lips, and then licked at Ymir’s bloody skin. She went higher, to where Ymir’s wetness had coated her thighs. Historia glanced up before she cleaned it all up. Ymir ached just watching her.
“Please,” Ymir breathed, finally unable to take it.
Historia’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. The frightening hunger disappeared, and for the first time she really appeared like the fragile, unsure girl that Ymir had thought her to be the first time she had seen her. But then the darkness swept in like a sickness, and Ymir bit back a new howl when Historia’s tongue went to her clit. She circled it at first, slowly despite her own haste, her need. Ymir’s hips bucked wildly. Historia had to grip onto her and use most of her strength, since Ymir wasn’t human, and was in fact physically stronger.
“Oh fuck,” Ymir gasped out. Just Historia’s tongue on her sensitive flesh felt like biting, sharp pleasure. In seconds Ymir moaned and thrashed in orgasm. No one ever lasted long with a succubus, not like this.
Historia leaned away and licked at her glistening lips. Her vampire teeth were out, and they glinted in the moonlight when Ymir caught sight of them. “You came… quickly.”
Ymir rested her head against the bark of the tree. Every muscle in her body hurt. The bites hurt. Her heart was pounding so harshly that she wondered if her ribs would bruise. Nothing had ever felt as intense as this. Ymir was terrified that this experience would ruin sex for her, forever.
“You’re just,” Ymir started, still breathing hard. “I can’t even.”
Historia lightly traced the bite on Ymir’s thigh, smiling. “True.” She wiped the rest of Ymir’s wetness from her face, and then looked up again, hypnotizing. “Sit,” she commanded.
Ymir slid down to the ground without protest. She was glad for it, because her leg muscles were aching too. Historia climbed onto her lap then.
“Give me your hand,” Historia answered. “I’ve fed the vampire. Now I need to feed the succubus.”
Ymir laughed as she gave her hand over. “You call yourself that? That’s weird.”
“It was more for your benefit.”
“So you can only feed that side of you when you’re being fucked?”
Historia grinned. Her eyes were entirely black now, but they still seemed blue somehow, but an intensely dark blue. Ymir was lost in them. She saw Historia in them, saw herself, saw her weaknesses and her strengths, her hopes and her fears.
“You’ve figured me out,” Historia chuckled. She lifted Ymir’s hand to her face, and then slowly drew a long finger into her mouth. The action was unexpected, and Ymir yelped in surprise, embarrassed when Historia nearly broke the intensity of the mood to laugh at her. Her eyes said, “that was odd, doggie,” but she carried on with her motions, suckling gently, running her tongue along Ymir’s digit. Historia pulled the finger out, then went to work on the middle one. Just the sensation of her warm, wet mouth had Ymir going again. She was tense, aroused beyond belief, and she could barely breath. She wanted to ask what the hell Historia was doing, but she didn’t want it to stop.
“There,” Historia sighed, pulling Ymir’s hand away from her face. “Not that I’m not wet enough.” She pulled Ymir’s hand down between them, and before Ymir could ask what she meant, Historia slipped those two wet digits inside of her. Ymir felt her stomach clench painfully in arousal, when she felt Historia’s powerful walls clamp down on her fingers, pulsing already with her first orgasm. Historia closed her eyes, and her face flushed deeply. She dropped her head back, lips open, and released a tiny moan. It was over so quickly that Ymir could only blink.
“I am fucking dying,” she groaned.
Historia chuckled. “Sorry, your fingers are just so long. I had no choice but to come immediately.
“Choice,” Ymir scoffed.
Historia laughed. It wasn’t condescending, it was almost… happy. She opened her eyes and then leaned forward and gripped tightly at Ymir’s shoulders. “I’m going to ride you,” she informed, voice deepened and smooth, warm like honey. “So keep still and curl your fingers just right.”
Ymir could only swallow and nod.
“And then,” Historia continued. She pressed their skin together, breasts just above hers, against Ymir’s chest, and lightly took Ymir’s bottom lip between her teeth. She released it, then took them both, and worked her lips in a way that Ymir had never been kissed before. It was almost painful, the way those soft lips pleasured her. When Historia’s tongue slipped against her own and Ymir’s heightened senses tasted her, she shuddered and came again. “Good,” Historia pulled back and purred. “Now I’m going to tear into your soul.”
Ymir pulsed and ached. She clenched her teeth so hard that she thought she heard bone crack. It was so painful, but at the same time Ymir felt like she would die without it. She came… just from kissing? And she’d thought getting eaten out earlier was intense.
Historia drew her hips up, then dropped down. Ymir kept enough sense to hold her wrist and fingers still. It earned her the most beautiful, dirtiest moan she had ever heard. It almost sent her spiralling over the edge again, but she held on, resisted, just for the honour of watching Historia in this moment. At some point she had taken her own clothes off. Ymir hadn’t even noticed when.
Historia’s breasts were large, firm, and capped by pale, pink nipples. They were rock hard. Ymir reached out and cupped one, then regretted it. Historia covered her hand, forced her to grip harder, and then Ymir’s head swam.
“Yes,” Historia hissed. Her eyes were open, as well as her mouth. Her throat worked, swallowing. A stream of foggy air left Ymir’s lips, filled Historia’s mouth. It began to seep out of her skin, as well. Historia rode her fingers harder, made Ymir’s hand grope her roughly. The harder Historia slid up and down, the harder it was for Ymir to remain conscious. She felt her life-force leave her body as it filled Historia’s, but nothing could make her regret it.
Historia was so warm inside, so wet. Her front wall was swollen, throbbing, but Ymir knew she wouldn’t come until she was full. So she closed her eyes, forced her hand away from Historia’s breast and then pulled her close by her face and kissed her. Historia moaned into it, tongue slipping out and seeking Ymir’s. Her hands lost themselves in Ymir’s hair. Ymir used the new position to work her wrist, to thrust into Historia, to make her buck and shudder and plead for more, even as she felt the very edges of her soul leave her.
That strange sound from earlier filled the air again, coming from Historia’s chest. She bit into Ymir’s tongue, drawing blood, drinking from that too. Ymir let her. She moaned at the pain and the pleasure. She could feel her body shifting slightly, steam rolling off of her. It was so difficult to keep moving, to not succumb to the darkness and let it all end, to give it all away. But Ymir wanted so badly to see Historia break, to rip apart. She wanted to see it all end.
Historia began to sweat from the heat of Ymir’s skin. But her face contorted in ecstasy, her lips were red from blood and from biting them. A small red trail slipped down her chin, dripped onto her bouncing breasts. And then Ymir curled her fingers, slid harshly against her front wall, and Historia came with an inhuman cry. Her body arched harshly, but Ymir’s other hand wound around to her lower back to support her, and then Historia’s head fell back and her mouth opened. Ymir watched, riveted, as Historia shuddered, still sliding along her fingers, though her inner walls were pulsing and throbbing, and she was coming everywhere, gushing in hot, hard pulses. When it was over, so was Ymir.
Historia fell forward against Ymir’s chest, streaks of wetness against her cheeks, and then Ymir toppled over to the side. The last thing Ymir registered was the sensation of a warm tongue at her throat, and then she was gone.
XxX
The first thing that told Ymir she was not dead, was the sensation of something small, warm and very soft against her front. She managed the strength to open her eyes, and then stopped breathing completely when blue eyes stared back.
“Good morning,” Historia whispered.
Ymir furrowed her brows. She smelt the scent of old, moulding paint, and human sweat. The surface underneath her body was soft, as well. “Morning,” she mumbled, confused.
Historia giggled, then reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “You look confused.”
“I am.”
“We’re at a hotel,” Historia explained.
Ymir moved enough to glance beyond Historia’s body, and sure enough, they were in a hotel room, wrapped up in each other on a mattress. They had no blanket. Ymir’s body had probably been warm enough. “You carried me.” It wasn’t a question.
“You were really heavy,” Historia teased. She smiled, and then snuggled closer and pressed her cheek to Ymir’s chest. “Last night was amazing.”
Ymir blinked and everything rushed back. Her muscles began to burn, like they had last night, reminding her that she hadn’t had a good fuck like that in too long. The bites around her body ached, too, but they were strangely pleasant at the same time. Everything about Historia just goddamn drew Ymir in.
“I thought you were going to kill me,” Ymir confessed.
Historia glanced up, looking sad. Everything about last night had disappeared in her eyes. The hunger was gone, as well as the darkness behind the blue of her eyes. They just looked like the sky now. Harmless. Welcoming, but not in an overwhelming way. The pull, the allure, that Ymir had suffered the night before, was gone.
“I’m glad I didn’t,” Historia said. “When I’m hungry, I kind of turn into a monster.” Her cheeks went red, and all Ymir could do was stare in surprise. “But I mean it. No one has ever been able to keep up with me. Thank you. And I’m sorry for almost breaking you.”
Ymir almost choked on her tongue. Historia was being… cute? “Is this for real?”
Historia giggled and nodded. “I know, it’s weird. But trust me, when I’m hungry again, the claws come out.”
Ymir sighed. “Why do I have a feeling that I’ll be there next time?”
Historia lightly pushed Ymir onto her back, and then she climbed on top of her, laying comfortably chest-to-chest, and rested her chin on Ymir’s sternum. “Am I weird if I ask you to stay with me?”
Ymir lifted a brow. “Your kind are nomads. You stay alone.”
“I’m tired of being alone. Besides, your kind mate for life, right?”
Ymir narrowed her eyes. “We do, and so do our partners. With us.”
“That’s fine, I could never feed on another again, anyway.”
Ymir groaned. “Why not?”
“It’s like, you’ll never enjoy sex again, either. I’ve never… tasted anyone like you before. It’s like everything I’ve fed on until now was tasteless. I only know what taste is, now, because of you.”
Ymir’s stomach fluttered. “Is this your weird way of falling in love?”
Historia nodded, almost hesitant. “I won’t ever force you again, though. Say so, and I’m gone.”
Ymir’s body was still mostly numb, and she was sure that she needed to recover from losing so much blood and life-force, but she managed to turn them over so that she was spooning Historia again, and then she pressed her nose to the back of Historia’s neck, inhaled deeply, and pressed her lips to her pale skin. “Next time,” she growled, “I will bite you.” Historia gasped, shuddering.
“But that…”
“Exactly. If I bite you, then you’re stuck with me.”
“You mean it?”
Ymir laughed, then winced as it caused her pain. She as out of breath already, and nearing sleep. “Would I be weird if I told you that I think you’re my mate?”
Historia laughed, then quieted, froze, and gasped. “Are you… serious?”
“Yes.”
Historia turned around in Ymir’s arms, then stared at her, eyes wide, pleading, imploring. “How do you know?”
Ymir grinned. “Because weredogs aren’t affected by succubae, but here we are.”
“What do you mean?”
Ymir rolled her eyes. “We can sense you. And it’s just something in our blood that makes us immune to your kind. Humans have none of that, so they go nuts. But last night, I felt exactly what a human victim would feel.” She closed her eyes and sighed. Just the memory… “I couldn’t understand why you were making me feel things. There’s only one explanation.”
“Interesting,” Historia whispered. She lifted a hand, ran a finger over Ymir’s bruised, slightly bloody lip. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
Ymir grinned, baring sharp teeth. “You didn’t.”
“You should see the bruises.”
“I’ll look later. I need more sleep.”
“I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Ymir smiled, and then pressed her cheek to Historia’s shoulder, pulled her in closer and sighed.
Who knew, that her one true mate would be a goddamn vampire-succubus. But Ymir wasn’t complaining. As scary as the experience had been, she knew she was addicted. Ymir wanted it again.
She wanted Historia to rip her to pieces, build her back up. And then do it again.