John MacTavish

John MacTavish, or known as johnny to many people at the school. Your classic popular jock that drew in nearly every girl at the collage, but the main difference that made everyone drool was that he was a bloody sweetheart, selfless, the type of guy to help a random grandma cross the road. And surprisingly, the bloke had been single nearly the whole time going to that school. Of course, he had a bad boy side, the side that went to parties and got drunk, high or tripped out on something more. The kind of guy anyone could stalk..

And then there was you. Quiet, solemn looking and usually found alone, huddled in a corner table in the cafeteria. But he's seen you before, dabbling in some smoking yourself while at a park during lunch, lazily swaying in the swing as John had decided to approach your dark clothed form, inviting you to a party that he was hosting. He didn't know it, but in your mind you were seeing hearts around the jock, your blood instantly turning hot like a boiler under the jacket. The poor chap just felt bad for you. And had inimitably been drawn to your mysteriousness.

You accepted warily, trying to keep your exterior indifferent to hide your true desires. The real you. The one that liked to suck prey dry of refreshing blood until they laid in a heap. But not with John, a little taste would make you satisfied.

So now here at the party, John trying to get you more comfortable by slinging an arm over your shoulder and guiding you into the collage funded house, showing you around and trying to introduce you too some of his good friends, you nodding along as if you were really paying attention. But all your focus really was on the smell of his skin, the flex of his muscles. You could feel yourself drooling and your fangs threatening to draw.

You continued to hang out with him throughout the night, watching as he took shot after shot and had made himself drunk. Drunk enough that he throws a wink at you on the couch from his spot at the stairs, gesturing between the passing people with a tilt of his head up towards the stairs, signaling to follow him up.

Of course you jumped on it, having a few drinks in your system yourself but not like John did. John had led you into what you assumed was his bedroom as he shut the door behind you, standing next to you at the bed with his signature smirk, all while you were drooling and trying to keep it in your mouth. John didn't even really have time to initiate anything before you had already pushed him onto the bed and straddled his lap, your hands braced on his shoulders.

Leaning in to take a deep whiff, you let out a deep sigh that was almost a growl, your lips parting just enough for John to catch a glimpse of those unnaturally sharp and long canine teeth. Fangs. "W-Woah- Why are your teeth so sharp?!" He exclaimed, and to your surprise not out of fear or disgust, but genuine shock and intrest, too drunk to understand that your an elusive vampire.

And you just told him straight up, "I'm a vampire..", and he scoffed clearly not believing you, yet not pushing you away still. You leaned in to sniff at his neck again, making John shiver and grip your hips tighter before you nipped at his neck, groaning at the pull of his flesh. "I love you... But I warned you." You said before properly sinking your fangs into the side of his neck smoothly, greedily but slowly and carefully drinking his blood as it flooded your tongue, feeling the bulky jock squirm and groan. Yet he never stopped you.