High Stakes For The Vampire Bingo? I Need Some Stabby Time And A Distraught Beck

High stakes for the vampire bingo? I need some stabby time and a distraught Beck <3 ☺️🥺😊

High Stakes For The Vampire Bingo? I Need Some Stabby Time And A Distraught Beck
High Stakes For The Vampire Bingo? I Need Some Stabby Time And A Distraught Beck
High Stakes For The Vampire Bingo? I Need Some Stabby Time And A Distraught Beck

i haaaaaad to make it an au. bc ive had this idea in my head for a while and i just. had to.

masterlist bingo card

vampire hunter helle

tw vampire whumper, kidnapping, humiliation, dehumanisation, noncon touching and biting, very suggestive stuff, mind control

Beck didn't expect to find them awake. They weren't supposed to be awake in the middle of the day, and they definitely weren't supposed to be flipping through his Bible all nonchalant while keeping his wrists pinned above his head with their other hand. Why wasn't the thing at least burning them a little? Just a little distraction would've been nice.

At least he wasn't enthralled yet. Something was working, either the book, or the cross around his neck; whatever it was, he was grateful.

"Let me go," he hissed, fed up with the way the vampire was basically ignoring him in favour of some psalms. "You took my brother! You took the only family I had left, at least– at least kill me, then!"

They slammed the book shut and tossed it onto the floor, finally focusing all their attention on him — which wasn't such a great thing, in hindsight. But if he was to go out the same way as his brother, well, he wanted to get it over with while he still had some fight left in him.

"I remember your brother," they purred. "Some of the best blood I've had in years, really. God must love me a lot, after all, if He found time to send me a replacement."

"I hope you choke on it." He tried to kick them, but he stood no chance against vampire reflexes. He ended up right back where he started, but now with the wind knocked out of him after the vampire had slammed him against the wall for a second time.

"I like a polite meal," they said calmly, visibly enjoying the way he wheezed and struggled to draw a proper breath. "So..." They glanced down at his belt, chock-full of anything that might hurt a vampire, and picked out the stake. They slid it out of the holster easily, holding it up and giving Beck a faux-compassionate look as they tossed it next to the Bible. "Revenge, huh?"

"Just die, why can't leeches like you just die and stay dead?" he snapped, and the vampire chuckled.

"Ah, yes, leeches... Leeches like me... Despicable. Awful." They threw a knife onto the pile, then another. Once the belt was empty, they moved on to patting him down, searching for anything hidden while taking extra care to touch every inch of his body.

"Stop– stop touching me!"

They gave him a smug grin when they found yet another silver knife, tucked safely into the lining of his coat. "Why should I?" They put the blade flat-side against his cheek, gently dragging it all the way back down to the side of his neck. "I can do whatever I want with you."

Beck glared at them, only flinching a little when the edge of the knife finally nicked him. He could soon feel the warm trickle of blood down his throat, unable to reach the edge of his shirt before the vampire leaned in and licked it off, making him gasp. They caught him by surprise, that was all. He expected them to bite, not lick.

"If you promise to be a good boy for me," they murmured against his skin, "we can forego magic entirely."

"As if," he spat without thinking.

"Oh? Come now, do not be stubborn." They pulled back to make another small cut, using the knife to turn his head to the side afterwards so they could kiss a trail down from his cheek to the wound, lapping up the spilled blood. Beck shuddered without meaning to, and he was pretty sure that the vampire was way past the point of using magic on him. "I am offering you a generous deal."

"What's the point if you're just gonna lie?" he forced out.

"I would never– wait, could it be?" They nuzzled against him, pressing a soft kiss behind his ear and making his breath hitch. "Surely not. A well-trained, seasoned hunter like you would never lust after a vampire and mistake it for charm, would he?"

No. No, absolutely not. Vampires were liars, manipulators, wretched, murderous, disgusting–

"Say, hunter... Have you ever been high on venom?"

"Don't," he blurted out, breathing quickening. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Do I even need it?" They threw the knife on the bed before grabbing him by the face, and Beck felt his knees buckle in a way that could not possibly have been natural. "No, probably not. The ones like you... well, I suppose there are many benefits to being a vampire hunter."

Beck swallowed and tried to get away again, but he was well and fully trapped. The vampire even let him struggle a little, only to pin him down once again, like a butterfly against the board. "Stop– just, just drain me and get it over with! Don't– d-don't do this–"

"I can let you go with your mind and your body mostly intact," they said again, and Beck just didn't care for the mindgames, and he felt too hazy and scared to make any sort of deal. "But only if you cooperate. This is the last time I am telling you."

"You're lying," he all but whined, and the vampire sighed.

"I suppose you leave me no choice. Let me show you what I could do, if I so chose."

The change was instantaneous. His mind was stolen quicker than his Bible had been, and if he had any thoughts left in his head, he might've realised that this could've been his fate from the moment he'd set foot in the mansion. He was nothing but prey, toyed with by a predator that knew exactly how to get him during the whole ordeal, and simply decided not to.

It went as quick as it had come, and Beck soon found himself back in his body, panting like he'd just had another nightmare. The vampire was patiently waiting for him to catch his breath, seemingly satisfied with the amount of terror even this small sample had caused.

"So?" they asked, gently brushing his hair away from his face. "Do you really want to pass up the opportunity and let me enthrall you in earnest?"

"No," he said without hesitation. "No, no, please, n-not that–"

"Do you think I was lying?"

"No! No, m-maybe, I don't know, I'm sure you can do it more subtly! I don't care, I don't care, just, just not again, not that again–"

"Yes, subtly..." They cupped his cheek and leaned in, kissing down the other side of his neck this time, mercifully leaving the cuts alone. "Or maybe you should not have pursued a career like this, given how sensitive your neck is, dear."

Beck sucked in a breath, trying to just tune it out. "Everyone's is. It's– it's my fucking neck."

"Mhm. Do we have a deal, then?"

As much as he'd thought he had nothing to lose... maybe there were some worse fates than death, ones that were alright to want to avoid, even if it meant debasing himself a little. "Y-yeah."

The vampire nipped his neck, and he could feel all the blood rushing into his face. Were they doing it just for this? "I want to hear it. 'Yes, Master'. Come on, enthusiastically."

"If you wanted an enthusiastic thrall, then–"

"Then what?"

Beck took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was taking him nowhere. He just had to play along for a little bit. "Nothing," he mumbled.

The vampire pulled away to look him in the eye, and he thought he might faint from the embarrassment alone. Fear had been long forgotten in favour of whatever this was, given how little interest the vampire had shown in actually killing him.

"So?" they prompted. "Do we have a deal?"

"Y-yes, Master."

They grinned, and Beck instantly knew they were about to push it further. "Say the whole thing for me."

"I promise– I promise I'll be good for you, Master."

"Good boy," they cooed, and he could barely stop a whimper from slipping out. This wasn't normal, it wasn't, this wasn't just him, it couldn't be just him– "Just to be clear," the vampire added as they leaned in, "I am not using any venom."

Beck gasped when he felt the fangs finally sinking into his neck, still holding onto the idea that it was a lie, that the vampire was simply lying to mess with his head. That was all that remained of his thoughts, really, the miserable conviction he could only halfway make himself believe as he arched against their body and breathed out in a pathetic whine.

Magic, magic, magic, it had to be magic–

It wasn't magic when the vampire all but moaned against his skin like he was fine wine, too good not to be enjoyed audibly.

It wasn't magic when they started grinding against him, and he started questioning what exactly it meant to be good, and why it wasn't scaring him as much as it should've.

He was entirely breathless by the time the vampire pulled away, licking their lips clean of any red that remained. "You taste good," they murmured, and Beck looked away from them, only to have his face be grabbed again and turned back until he met their eyes. "Say 'thank you', darling. You promised to be good, remember?"

"Thank you," he choked out, softly adding 'Master' when it became clear he wasn't going to get away with leaving it off.

"There you go." They let go and used him turning away as an opportunity to press a little kiss to his cheek. "Now apologise for calling me a leech."

"I'm sorry, Master," he said without much encouragement, falling into the rhythm all too easily.

"'It will never happen again.'"

"It'll never happen again, Master."

"Good." They let go of his wrists and stepped back, and Beck fell to his knees from exhaustion and blood loss, not even caring anymore. What did it matter? The vampire could make him do whatever they wanted anyway. "I have an actual reward for you, hunter."

"No more," he muttered. "Please."

"Oh? Never mind, then. I can tell my darling Joel to go back to his room."

Beck's eyes snapped open at the mention of his brother's name, and he crawled a little closer, grabbing onto the vampire's pants. "You– you have Joey? Joey's alive? Don't– don't mess with me, please, not about Joey." The tears came out of nowhere, and it only got worse when they smiled and gently petted his hair. "Please–"

"Shh, just stay like this. Nice and docile, hm? Just let me enjoy it for a moment."

Beck would've let them do anything if it meant he'd get his brother back. He clung to those pants like a lifeline, trying to bite his tongue and be as still as possible, hoping it hadn't been a joke or a cruel trick.

After a few seconds, the vampire whistled like one would for a dog to come, and Beck wanted to stake them once more just for mocking his brother like that. But all of that went out the window when Joey actually entered the room, safe and sound apart from the bite wounds that marred his neck.

Beck pushed himself to his feet, swaying from blood loss and almost fainting before he even got to Joey, but it didn't matter, because he could finally hug him and tell him how much he'd missed him. "I can't believe you're alive," he sobbed.

"What are you... why are you... Beck, what's going on?" Joey held him just as tight, choking a little on unshed tears himself. "Why are you here?"

"Doesn't matter! Doesn't matter, it doesn't matter anymore, this is better than anything I could've come here for!"

"Not to interrupt," the vampire cut in, and both of them were quick to break apart and try to shield the other from harm. "But you two should go home. It is still the middle of the day, and I would like to get some more sleep."

"Go home...?" Joey asked, eyes wide. "Master, what do you–"

"Don't question it!" Beck grabbed him by the hand and tried to pull him away, frowning a little when Joey didn't follow. "Joey?"

"I can't leave Master," he said like it was obvious, and the vampire tutted.

"No, no, run along. Do not get disobedient on me at the last moment, dear."

"You heard them!" Beck said urgently, tugging on his brother's hand again. "Come on!"

It was a struggle to get Joey to move. Beck had a very strong suspicion that if the vampire hadn't told him to, they would've both been standing in the doorway to their bedroom still.

He told himself it didn't hurt when he looked at his brother's dejected face. He told himself he understood, and that they could celebrate later, when Joey'd had some time to snap out of it.

He wiped the remaining blood off his own neck, hoping, praying this was the end of it.

~

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Hector wakes up with his heart beating fast in his chest. It’s wrong, he shouldn’t think about him like that. It’s creepy. No, bad Idea. Charlie is sure a virus, making him can’t think properly, like a glitch in his computer. Or he is more likely an addiction, just like how he is addicted to caffeine and he can't function properly without him, can't stop craving for more. If Charlie could just stay with him, that would be ideal. How could someone as ordinary as Charlie, a mere barista from a small cat café invade his mind like this? What makes him so special to Hector? Is it because of his looks? Sure, he looks cute, with his sweet smile, bright eyes, thin lips and blushed cheeks but Hector has met other attractive people and they don't entice him like Charlie does. Is it because of how he takes care of the cats? How he always treats them gently, very attentively and talks to them even though he knows they won't talk back to him, just like Hector does? 

Is Hector so lonely he fell in love with a person who doesn't find his silence rude and keep talking to him? Is he so deprived from social contact he lets other people get into his heart? Hector spends his morning analyzing his feelings, letting his breakfast get cold for being neglected as he thinks. His own mother didn't even like him, despised him even. Is it possible that other people could love him? He gets on with his morning routine with the thought of Charlie popping in his mind out of nowhere. He truly is a computer virus and it only makes his obsession of him grow. Hector looks at the time and prepares to go to the cat cafe. Ah, the blue towel, he needs to iron it for a bit. When he is done, he takes the towel and sniffs it, a little bit disappointed it doesn't smell like Charlie anymore. Hector sighs and puts it inside a paper bag, an idea of spraying his perfume on it crosses his mind but he shrugs it off. Charlie wouldn't care if it smells like him or not anyway. 

As he opens the cafe's door, Charlie greets him with high enthusiasm, as if he looks happy to see him. He is a barista, of course he is happy to see his customer, Hector pouts in his mind. He wants to be special, not just like a customer to him, but who is he to hope for something like that?

"Good morning, Hector!" How could someone shine brighter than the sun? How could his presence and his interaction make Hector's life become so colorful and when he leaves this cafe, it becomes dull again? "Double espresso as usual, yes?" 

Hector nods, his usual seat on the corner doesn't look much appealing to him after he finds how comfortable it is to be closer to Charlie yesterday. Hector sits at the table near the bar, slowly so as to not wake up the cat that sleeps beside him, remembering how he made the chair damp when he sat there yesterday because of the rain. Thinking about the rain, Hector fishes the towel and gives it to Charlie after the barista comes up to him and places the coffee on the table. 

"Oh, thank you! I hope you don't get sick yesterday because of the rain."

Even if I get sick, I will still come here. Hector smiles thinly and shakes his head.

"Thank god, looks like the lemon-honey candy works, eh? If only I could give it to my cats.” Charlie chuckles, “sometimes they can get the flu even though I have kept this cafe at a stable temperature. They are all vaccinated of course, but the kittens are still at risk and it can progress to cause serious damage to the eye. Just like Snowy there, my boss found him near her apartment with his eyes partially closed, meowing his heart out, looking for his mom. Fortunately, we took him to the Vet in time and here he is, looking as healthy as ever."

One thing that Hector notices when Charlie monologues is he also speaks with his hands, as if the sounds from his mouth are not enough to express what he wants to say.  His expression is easy to read, like an open book. But it is not an open book that Hector could just pick anytime he likes, it was like a book in a museum, where it was put inside of transparent glass. Hector could read it, see it in every angle but he couldn't touch it, couldn't own it. 

"I'm rambling again, sorry about that." Charlie smiles apologetically to him but Hector just shakes his head and gives an OK sign, he doesn't mind. He never does, he could listen to his stories all day long. Hector goes to the cafe so much to the point he needs to buy a portable monitor to code comfortably in the cafe. Charlie, upon seeing the new device, intuitively gives him a terminal contact for its power supply, even without Hector’s asking. After he gets it on, Charlie comments, “Are you a hacker? You know, with those jumbles of words and numbers?”

Hector snorts but he doesn’t shake his head, only shrugs. Just let him figure out that hacker is not the only job that works with code. Charlie chats some more and only gets back to the bar when he realizes he babbles again, fearing he is interrupting his work.While Hector doesn’t mind, he still needs to get his job done.  Hector tries to concentrate on his work, something that he easily does before he has this feeling in his chest that urges him to glance at the barista. But even then, he still gets his work done just before the cafe is closed. He can just go home right now, but a little more time he spends here won't hurt. Besides, how can he go when a chonky cat is purring on his lap? It would be an unforgivable sin. 

Suddenly the bells on the door jingles, indicating another customer has come in. He orders some drinks and food and sits on one of the couches. Hector doesn't mind him and continues to pet the cat on his lap, although he finds it weird that people come up to a cat cafe at this hour. 

Suddenly, the customer harshly grips the scruff of Mr. Holmes' neck who steps on his expensive bag and the cat, surprised by the sudden movement reacts by biting him until drawing blood. 

"Son of a bitch!" The man exclaims and hits the cat's face until he lets go of his hand. The black cat hides under the table and hisses. "Who the fuck let an aggressive cat here? He got rabies, didn’t he?!"

Charlie hurriedly comes up to him, looking at him worriedly. "No, sir, we always vaccinate our cats and I can assure you, they are all healthy. Please, let me take a look at your hand."

The man only slaps Charlie's hand and Hector glares at him. 

"Fucking bullshit!" He kicks one of the chairs until it falls, making the cats all hide in the corner and even get into their hiding place. "I'll fucking sue you! That cat ruined my bag and now bite me.you think you can get away from this?"

"Sir, I'm sorry it happens to you, we will take full responsibility for your wounds but please don't damage our facilities."

"You think you can persuade me, huh? Not only I'll sue you, I'll write bad reviews of this place so no one won't come over here ever again."

"Sir, you are disrupting our customers and cats, and I wish we can discuss this in a calm manner or… or I need you to leave, sir."

The man glares at him and pulls Charlie's collar, and Charlie can smell he is drunk, "Or what, you son of a bitch? You'll drag me out, huh?"

That's it. Hector can't let him touch him any further. He grabs the alcoholic's shoulder and drags him outside to the alley, punching his face until he is unconscious. He can feel the skin on his knuckles torn and bleed but it doesn't bother him. Right now, his only objective is to make Charlie and his cats safe. The body sags as he presses it to the wall, a primal instinct inside him wish he is dead but he stops himself and  chooses to hail a cab. He throws the man on the backside seat, gives a couple of bucks to the driver and instructs him to take the drunkard to hospital, saying he found the man on the outside of the bar, probably lost in the bar fight. 

After he watches the cab go into the night, he gets inside and sees Charlie looks so shocked. The black cat rubbed its body to his leg back and forth, looking just as anxious. The cat hisses when Hector approaches them but he ignores him to sits beside the barista and types some words on his phone, then he shows it to Charlie. 

"He won't come back, you are safe now."

The cat hops on his lap and Charlie unconsciously pets it, feeling comfort both from the black cat and the black-haired man in front of him who hesitantly touches his shoulder and rubs it gently. After a while, Hector takes a mineral bottle from the bar and gives it to Charlie after he opens the bottle caps first. At least he looks relaxed now as he mutters a soft thank you to him. He looks like a scared kitten and all Hector wants to do is to wrap him with a thick blanket, pet his head  and take him home. Of course he can’t do that, but he wants to do something for him, help him a little bit. He looks around and chooses to tidy up the chair on the floor instead. At least the café won’t look like a mess and the action bring some satisfying feeling in his chest. Everything in its place, so the only mess he had is just in his head. It is not until he feels a touch on his arm and flinches by the sudden touch. 

“Oh, Hector, you are a customer. You don’t have to do this! I’m just shocked, really… It’s nothing.” The barista bites his lips, “You know how Chicago is, yeah?”

Hector’s snort, Well, It doesn’t look like nothing. 

“Thank you for helping me back there, though. I couldn’t imagine if he hurt my cats and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Hector tightens his jaw. Should’ve killed him when I had the chance. But he just heavily sighs and types his phone: 

“Shocked, just like what I said and kinda relieved that he is not here anymore.” Charlie picks up the black cat and hugs him to his chest, stroking his head lightly... Hector can read “Mr. Holmes” on his nametag. “I’m worried about Mr. Holmes, he got an abusive owner before I got him and he has been really anxious. I need to separate him from other cats before he starts to attack them.” 

“How do you feel?” 

Hector tilts his head, the story sounds familiar or maybe he is just imagining things. Projecting himself as the cat who is being comforted. He sighs again then points to himself, points to the floor, then points to Charlie with the cat and the room upstairs. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll be back,” then he looks down at Hector’s hand, dirtied by blood. He swallows, “I need to take care of your hand too,”

As Charlie goes upstairs, he assesses the damage the drunkard has caused. Nothing serious and nothing breaks at least, although the fallen chairs scratched the wooden floor. The cats had left their hiding place and roamed freely inside the café. Some groom themselves as if they already forget what happened. A couple of moments later, Charlie brings a medical kit and a bowl filled with water. As they sit, Charlie opens his palm up, now covered in latex gloves and waits for Hector to give his hand. Hector looks at him and hesitantly puts his hand on Charlie's. He wipes the blood from his hand with the wet towel, rubbing it softly against his skin. Hector freezes, as if he is afraid he is going to make the wrong movement. Ever since he was a child, he always tended to his wounds and bruises alone, usually with cold water since it was the only thing his mother had. And now, a man touches him so softly, cleaning his wounds and putting so much attention to him. It's strange, it feels alien and yet, not unwelcome. He wants to feel his skin, pity, his hands are covered with latex. As Charlie treats him, he doesn’t feel hurt on his hand, he doesn’t even realize it was bleeding, a result of having so much worse than that. It won’t be a big issue if he doesn’t take care of it but Charlie treats him as if he broke his hand. Charlie is so close… If he leans further, his nose may touch his hair. 

“Okay, It’s done!” Charlie straightens up again and Hector praises the Lord he doesn’t let his intrusive thoughts win or their heads would collide. “You need your hand for work, right? The cut is not deep so I think It won’t be an issue. Might sting a bit if you flex your hand, though.” 

Hector sighs quietly at the loss of contact as Charlie withdraws his hand from his and nods. He takes a look at the clock and realizes it’s past closing time. After he decides it’s already safe now to leave Charlie, he walks to the bar, fishing his card to pay. 

“Oh no-no-no! You don’t have to pay, you protected and helped me a lot today. Take it as my gratitude. My treat, really.”

“Take it or I won’t leave.”

Hector shakes his head and frowns. Any logical man would do it so it’s nothing special. He pushes his card to him and when the barista refuses again, Hector huffs and hastily types on his phone.

“Well, you can just stay with me upstairs with Mr. Holmes,” Charlie blurts. 

Hector frowns get deeper and he stares down at him. What does it mean? Does Charlie really want him to spend the night with him? Is he serious?

Charlie looks at him in fright, "I'm sorry! That's really inappropriate, I'm just kidding, it's-it's... I'm sorry."

Of course he is not serious. What do you expect, Munday? 

Hector only nods and gives an OK sign with his fingers. Charlie takes his card and lets him pay, with a guilty puppy look on his face. Hector only sees the glimpse of it and forces himself to look away. He leaves with a gloomy face and walks briskly to his apartment, feeling stupid. He shouldn't feel this disappointed, it's not like he dares to hope he can be with him after the cafe is closed. Of course it's just a joke, someone like Charlie can be too friendly, doesn't really mean what he says. Besides, Charlie deserves someone better than him, someone who can communicate with him like a normal person. Hector clenches his fist in frustration and sleep doesn’t come easily to him that night.

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18+ she/her, hyper-fixating on dilfs and silver foxes~ (cw: nsfw and dark themes)bg3 | Charlie | Slade | Vittorio

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