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Challenging a vampire to a race, of all things, probably isn’t the brightest idea Laura’s ever had. She’s managed to climb the grand total of one set of stairs before a blur of movement zooms past her, ignoring her indignant huff of Carmilla that’s cheating! and when she eventually tumbles through the door into the solarium, Carmilla’s already there, lounging on one of the many large sofas scattered around the room.
There’s a faint orange glow coming from the lit candles on the table, and Carmilla’s face lights up when she sees Laura, in a soft smile Laura knows is reserved just for her. She pauses for a moment to take it all in; the champagne and pair of fancy looking glass flutes, the candles, Carmilla waiting for her and smiling at her like she’s the only person in the world.
If she went back in time — which at Silas, is probably 100% possible— and told the Laura she was at the beginning of the semester that this is where she would find herself in four months, past-Laura never would never have believed her in a million years.
“You took your time,” Carmilla says with a smug grin, leaning forward and picking up the bottle of champagne. “Thought I was going to start going grey by the time you finally got here.”
Laura rolls her eyes, but presses a fond kiss to Carmilla’s cheek when she reaches the sofa. “Well not all of us have the luxury of superhuman speed.” She pauses. “Super-vampire speed? Ugh, superspeed, whatever."
She toes her shoes off and tucks her legs underneath her while Carmilla uncorks the bottle and pours out two glasses, handing one to Laura and keeping the other for herself before settling back against the sofa and wrapping an arm around Laura’s shoulders. Laura takes the hint, scooting closer and snuggling into Carmilla’s side. Carmilla’s mouth brushes against her temple in a barely there kiss, her arm tightening around Laura, and the champagne that Carmilla apparently had enough time to liberate from the wine cellar before rushing up to the roof is sweet on her tongue when she takes a sip.
Laura rests her head on Carmilla's shoulder, and they slowly make their way through the bottle while Carmilla chatters animatedly about the stars, pointing out various constellations with adorable enthusiasm that even Laura rarely gets to see, and they steal champagne-sweet kisses from each other in the brief lulls in conversation.
In between ominous Latin messages carved into unwilling participants and mass murders by still unidentified perpetrators, they haven’t had that many opportunities to be alone, so it’s nice to have a chance to just forget about general Silas insanity for a while and cuddle up to each other underneath the stars.
Inevitably, something new, dangerous, and of undetermined levels of humanity will come crashing into their lives sometime in the near future to cause more mayhem, but for now it’s just them. Laura and Carmilla and the stars. Alone. With a locked door to keep out interrupting roommates and cannibalistic witches and kobolds set on marrying small humans. With champagne and candles and a very intentionally romantic aura. This is probably their one allotted moment of peace for the month, and Laura sure as hell isn’t going to waste it. The stars are pretty great and all, but they’ll still be there tomorrow night.
Carmilla’s warm and soft against her, and Laura’s acutely aware of Carmilla’s fingertips stroking innocently up and down her bare arm. She shifts, pressing closer to Carmilla and zoning out slightly while she thinks about how much she wants Carmilla’s hands on other parts of her body.
"So,” Laura asks once the champagne bottle has been drained and the glasses returned to the table. “Does this redo make up for the disaster that was that Zeta party?"
"Well no one has ambushed me, trussed me up and accused me of taking innocent girls hostage yet, so so far this is an improvement, yes." Carmilla shifts so she’s facing Laura, a glint in her eye reminiscent of the brief seconds of the Zeta party before Danny barged in. Carmilla starts to lean in, her free hand comes up to cup Laura’s face gently, and her voice has lowered a few octaves when she adds on, “But champagne and stargazing weren’t the only things I wanted to do with you that night.”
Laura leans in the remaining distance and rests their foreheads together for a few seconds, prolonging the anticipation. She half-expects someone to come thundering out onto the roof demanding their attention in the latest supernatural mishap, because that’s what always happens the second they have some alone time and it may as well happen now rather than when they’re half-undressed, but when no interruption comes, Laura tilts her head slightly and meets Carmilla's mouth in a languid kiss.
They kiss chastely for a few moments, nothing more than softly brushing their lips together, before Laura pulls back briefly to suck in a breath, and then surges forward and kisses Carmilla with intention.
Carmilla bites at Laura’s bottom lip, tugging slightly before her tongue is licking into Laura’s mouth, and Laura squirms, trying to press closer. There’s a minute or two of heated making out, before Laura gives in to the heat flooding through her body, and Carmilla makes a small, desperate noise in the back of her throat when Laura shifts to straddle her lap. They kiss for long moments, the silence that’s fallen on the rooftop broken every so often by quiet whimpers, their tongues brushing together while Carmilla’s hands roam across Laura’s back and she arches into the touch, her fingers tightening their grip on Carmilla’s hair.
Eventually Laura breaks the kiss in favour of kissing a path along Carmilla’s jaw and down her neck, relishing in the little moans and whimpers she makes and in the way her hands tighten their grip on Laura’s hips, and Carmilla growls — honest to God growls — when Laura closes her teeth over the spot where her pulse would be, and sucks hard.
“Fuck, Laura,” Carmilla groans, the raggedness of her voice sending a bolt of white hot lust straight through Laura’s whole body. She pulls back, her breath hitching at the hungry look in Carmilla’s dark eyes, before Carmilla yanks her back in for another kiss.
Carmilla urges Laura up slightly, her hands drifting towards Laura's front and making quick work of the belt. Laura hears it hit the floor next to the sofa with a muffled thump a second before she feels Carmilla's hands on her thighs, inching up and up and under her dress, until her fingers hook into the hem of Laura’s tights and start dragging them down her legs.
Somehow, with some awkward wiggling and only one near loss of balance, they manage to get them off without ripping them, and then Laura’s dress is quickly following, Carmilla tugging it up and over her head.
Carmilla’s eyes immediately drop to rake over Laura’s underwear-clad body, and Laura shifts, feeling slightly self-conscious under Carmilla’s heated gaze. She’s been so caught up in the heat of the moment that it’s only now that Carmilla’s doing nothing except simply look at her that she realises how nervous she really is. And there are a lot of nerves. Of course there are. Carmilla’s been with who knows how many women over the course of three hundred or so years, whereas Laura’s sexual experience consists of the handful of girls she’s kissed, and her own hand.
“Wow,” Carmilla murmurs reverently, which promptly derails Laura's am I good enough for her train of thought.
(Reduced a centuries old badass to monosyllabic utterances, Laura thinks. Go me.)
Carmilla lifts her hand and slowly traces her the tips of her fingers softly along Laura’s collarbone, across the curve of her breast and over her hammering heartbeat, and then down the flat expanse of her stomach, before coming to rest on her waist, her warm palm pressed against Laura’s flushed skin and her thumb rubbing slow circles into her hipbone.
Carmilla touches her so gently, like she’s still in disbelief that Laura is actually here and hers to touch.
(It’s a feeling that Laura completely understands.)
Carmilla’s other hand cups the back of Laura’s neck and pulls her down into a slow, wet kiss, chasing the nerves away until Laura reaches down with steady hands to take hold of the bottom of Carmilla’s jumper, and they break the kiss momentarily so Laura can pull it over Carmilla’s head. Her hair tumbles in dark waves over her shoulders, and she looks up at Laura with such wonder and adoration that Laura feels herself falling that little bit harder.
She gets momentarily distracted staring at the barely-there black lace encasing Carmilla’s chest — this might a very romantic pivotal moment in their relationship and everything, but Laura’s still a hormonal horny teenager half-naked in her super hot vampire girlfriend’s lap, so she can’t really be blamed for getting sidetracked by boobs — before her brain short circuits when Carmilla leans in and starts leaving a trail of hot wet kisses along her jaw.
She wraps her arms around Carmilla’s neck, anchoring herself down and clinging on tightly as Carmilla kisses and nips her way down Laura’s throat. She lets out a shaky whimper when Carmilla’s tongue slides across the two faded puncture marks on Laura’s neck, and Carmilla detaches her mouth from Laura’s throat long enough to whisper, “You still okay?” into her ear.
Laura breathes out an affirmative, “Mm, don’t stop,” and tilts her head to the side, encouraging Carmilla to keep going.
Carmilla sucks at her pulse point, drags her tongue along her collarbone, and kisses the hollow of her throat, while her hands travel across Laura’s body before coming to a stop at the clasp of her bra.
Carmilla unhooks her bra and then moves her hands up to Laura’s shoulders to slowly slide the straps down Laura's arms one at a time, peppering soft kisses across her shoulders and arms in the wake of the straps, and Laura’s head spins with how much she wants Carmilla
Carmilla’s warm hands splay out on Laura’s bare back, holding her steady while she litters kisses across Laura’s chest, and she groans and tips her head back when Carmilla's lips finally— finally — close around one nipple. She tugs gently with her teeth, and Laura gasps out her name, all but melting against Carmilla. She licks and sucks and bites at Laura’s chest, showering both breasts with equal amounts of attention until Laura’s a writhing panting mess, grinding her hips down against Carmilla’s lap in a frantic attempt to get some form of friction.
"Carm," Laura gasps breathlessly, too far gone to care about sounding desperate. "Carmilla please, oh God, please touch me."
Carmilla sucks in a superfluous breath, before she pulls away from Laura’s chest with a final flick of her tongue against a hard nipple. Her arms wrap around Laura’s body and before Laura can even register that she’s being picked up like she weighs less than a feather, her back connects with the sofa and she blinks up at the night sky above her. Carmilla looms over her a second later after quickly removing her boots, prowling up Laura’s body like a predator.
Her eyes are darker than Laura’s ever seen them, and Laura catches a brief glimpse of the two pointy tips peeking out from behind her top lip before Carmilla descends on her and claims her mouth in a messy kiss. Ignoring the ache between her legs and how much she wants Carmilla to tear off her last remaining piece of clothing for the moment, Laura slows the kiss down enough so that she can gently trace her tongue over Carmilla’s fangs. Carmilla’s hips jerk forward almost instantaneously and she makes a noise like she’s gasping for air, a reaction made all the better by the fact Carmilla doesn’t even need oxygen.
Laura files that new discovery about her girlfriend away for future knowledge.
Carmilla pulls away, rising up onto her knees and she yanks her necklace over her head and drops it onto the table, the studded bracelet around her wrist following it quickly, and Laura takes the time to drink in the sight in front of her, of Carmilla kneeling between her spread legs, topless, with makeout-induced messy hair, kiss-bruised lips and lust blown pupils, and staring down at Laura like she wants to eat her. It sends another flash of heat through her, and she reaches up to pull Carmilla down impatiently. Carmilla comes willingly, resting her forearms either side of Laura while her hair falls around them in a dark curtain that blocks off the rest of the world.
Carmilla drags long hot kisses down Laura’s throat, she stops at Laura’s chest to lave her tongue against her nipples, and she sucks a trail of bruises down Laura’s stomach. Her hands skate over Laura’s ribs and her nails scrape lightly against Laura’s sides, before slipping under the hem of Laura’s underwear and slowly starting to pull the material down her legs. Carmilla’s mouth follows, peppering kisses along the tops of her thighs while she tugs Laura's underwear completely off and lets them drop onto the pile of clothing on the floor, before she’s gently pushing Laura’s legs apart to settle on her stomach between them. By the time Carmilla's mouth is pressing kisses up the inside of her thighs, Laura's honestly concerned she's going to pass out. Or explode. Or both.
A loud, strangled moan tumbles from Laura’s throat at the first touch of Carmilla’s tongue against her, and she knows instantly she isn’t going to last long. Every nerve ending in her body turns into a livewire when Carmilla’s tongue starts sliding against her in a quick and steady rhythm, licking broad strokes through her and swirling over her clit. Laura shudders and moans, throwing her head back and bucking her hips up into Carmilla’s mouth while she reaches one hand down and threads her fingers through Carmilla’s hair, desperate to be touching Carmilla as much as possible. Her other hand flails around until Carmilla catches it with her own, linking their fingers together and pressing their joined hands down against Laura’s lower stomach to keep her hips still while Carmilla licks relentlessly at her.
Each stroke of Carmilla’s tongue builds her higher and higher, and she has to bite her lip hard to keep herself from screaming when she feels a finger pushing into her.
“Carm— Carm fuck I’m—” Laura chokes out in between sucking in lungfuls of air, her mind hazy with pleasure. “Oh God don’t stop don’t stop don’t—” Her back arches and she babbles swear word laden nonsense when Carmilla sinks a second finger inside.
“It’s okay.” Laura barely registers the sound of Carmilla’s voice over her own ragged breathing and pulse thundering in her ears. “I’ve got you, Laura.”
Carmilla sucks at her clit while her fingers curl roughly, once, twice, and then stars are exploding behind Laura’s eyelids as she falls apart. Carmilla brings her down from oblivion with soft licks, and when the world shifts back into focus, Carmilla’s kissing her way back up Laura’s trembling body.
“Hey,” Carmilla whispers, nudging her nose against Laura's.
Laura feels a dopey smile spreading across her face while she wraps her arms around Carmilla. “Hey.”
Carmilla leans down and tries to kiss her, and it takes a few moments before they can stop smiling wide enough to do more than just clumsily bump their mouths together, but eventually they fall into a rhythm of slow lazy kissing. Tasting herself on Carmilla’s mouth is...different, but not unpleasant. Mostly it just turns her on even more.
Laura trails her hands down Carmilla's back, fingers tripping over each bump in her spine until they reach the waistband of Carmilla's pants, and after a brief second of hesitation, Laura moves her hands down further to shamelessly grope at Carmilla's ass. Carmilla whines and rocks her hips forward, the fabric of her jeans rubbing against the bare skin of Laura’s thighs. The motion makes Laura realise how annoyingly still clothed Carmilla is, and she promptly seeks to remedy this, sliding her hands up the smooth skin of Carmilla’s back to unhook her bra.
Laura leans up to press soft kisses against Carmilla’s throat as she tugs the bra off and lets it drop to the floor, stalling for a few seconds while she wills her hammering heart to calm down. She’s spent a lot of time imagining what Carmilla looks like naked; she doesn’t want to ruin things by having a heart attack before it actually happens.
She brings her hands up to cup Carmilla's breasts, squeezing gently before experimentally swiping her thumbs over the stiffening peaks. Carmilla sighs against her mouth, and then shudders and rocks her hips down when Laura slowly rolls her nipples between her thumb and forefinger. The kiss breaks and Laura watches, slightly wonderstruck, as Carmilla arches her back and pushes her chest further into Laura’s hands, eyes shut while she moans softly under her breath.
The breathless whimpers Carmilla makes at each tug on her nipples gives Laura a surge of confidence that spurs her into action, scraping her nails down Carmilla's stomach to fumble with the button of her jeans. She gets it undone, tugs the zipper down and manages to shove them halfway down Carmilla's thighs before Carmilla has to pull back with a grumble, shuffling backwards and struggling with her pants until they're being unceremoniously dumped on the floor.
Laura bites her bottom lip and grins at how endearingly adorable Carmilla’s huffs of frustration are.
Carmilla climbs back on top of her, thighs either side of Laura’s waist and knees pressing against the sofa this time, while she looks down at Laura with a look of adoration. The flickering candlelight casts shadows across Carmilla’s face and, not for the first time, Laura is struck speechless with how beautiful Carmilla is.
Laura's mind goes blank when Carmilla presses down against her stomach, and she sucks in a surprised breath when she realises just how wet Carmilla is. She’s not sure why she’s so surprised by the revelation. It’s not like she didn’t know Carmilla wants her. But the hypothetical idea of it is miles away from actually feeling the evidence wet and hot against her skin, and the sensation is like a catalyst for how much she wants to have Carmilla coming undone above her. To hear her gasping Laura's name like a prayer, to feel the wet heat of her clenching and throbbing around her, to drown in Carmilla until she’s all Laura can feel and hear and taste.
“You okay, cupcake?” Carmilla whispers, brushing their lips together, and idly, Laura realises Carmilla can probably hear how rapidly her heart is beating.
(And really, quite how Carmilla expects Laura to be capable of normal conversation when her hips are subtly rolling down against her like that, Laura has no clue.)
“Yeah,” Laura squeaks, impressed at how steady she manages to keep her voice, even if it is a little high-pitched. “Yeah I’m fine, I just— I want to touch you.”
“So touch me,” Carmilla replies, taking Laura’s hand and gently guiding it towards the band of her underwear.
Laura feels dizzy with lust and something else big and overwhelming and not all that unidentifiable, and together they quickly pull Carmilla’s underwear— also black lace, of course — off and onto the floor, before she swallows her remaining nerves and slides her hand between Carmilla’s legs. She's so warm and so wet to the touch that it makes Laura's heart stutter before going into overdrive, thumping erratically against her ribs, and she watches, awestruck, as Carmilla sits up slightly and then sinks down onto her fingers. Her lips part and she exhales a shaky moan, before moving her hips and rocking down to meet the first of Laura's tentative thrusts.
The sight of Carmilla above her makes Laura ache, her blood rushes in her ears and her stomach coils and tightens with each gasp and whimper that falls from Carmilla’s lips. Laura presses in deeper, mimicking Carmilla’s movements by twisting and curling her fingers until Carmilla shudders and moans, falling forward to bury her face in the crook of Laura’s neck.
Carmilla gasps fuck yes right there don’t stop and then Laura Laura Laura when Laura manages to angle her palm up to grind against her clit. Laura turns her head, pressing kisses against every part of Carmilla her mouth can reach and whispering sweet nothings about how good Carmilla feels into her ear. Carmilla lifts her head, and Laura catches a brief glimpse of the dazed look in her dark, half-lidded eyes, before Carmilla ducks her head and catches Laura's mouth in messy fierce kiss that Laura feels in her entire body. It only takes a few more thrusts of her fingers before Carmilla stiffens, and then she’s clenching down tightly around Laura's fingers as she comes with a wordless cry of pleasure.
They stay tangled up in each other for who knows how long, and Laura forgets about everything other than Carmilla’s arms wrapped around her, Carmilla’s mouth leaving little kisses across her neck and jaw and cheeks, Carmilla’s warm body pressed against her.
She’s just beginning to doze off with her head on Carmilla’s chest when Carmilla stirs underneath her. “Hope I haven’t completely worn you out already,” she says, mirth creeping into her voice and Laura can’t help but smile. “Because there is still a very big, very soft bed we have yet to christen.”
“There’s still the rest of the house to christen,” Laura points out, propping herself up onto her elbow and brushing a few wayward strands of Carmilla’s hair off her face.
“The entire house?” Carmilla raises an eyebrow, looking impressed. “Don’t you think Betty Crocker’s been traumatised enough the past few days? I think accidentally witnessing you being defiled on every surface in this building might just push her over the edge into a nervous breakdown.”
(Laura’s pretty sure the prospect of being defiled isn’t supposed to sound quite so inviting.)
Good point. “Okay, maybe not the entire house.”
Carmilla smirks wickedly in a way that makes Laura suspect she has every intentions of defiling Laura on every surface of the house, and pulls her in for a kiss. She sucks on Laura's bottom lip before her tongue licks into Laura's mouth and causes the simmering heat low in her stomach to roar back to life.
“Bed,” Carmilla mumbles when she detaches from Laura’s mouth in favour of frantically sucking bruises into her throat. “I want to take you in our bed, make you come over and over until you’re shaking, until you can’t take it anymore.”
Carmilla's hand slips down to grab at Laura ass meaningfully, and Laura's honestly surprised she doesn't fall over the second she stands up from the sofa.
They quickly put the bare minimum of clothes on, on the off chance Perry or LaFontaine are still lurking around, Carmilla pulling her jeans and bra back on while Laura tugs Carmilla’s jumper over her head, and they make their way to their bedroom with frequent pauses to push each other against the wall to kiss each other breathless.
The bedroom door is the first to lose its innocence. It’s barely closed — and locked. Definitely locked — behind them before Carmilla’s yanking their clothes off, picking Laura up and pressing her back against the door. Her fingers slide inside Laura almost immediately and it takes very little time for her to go over the edge with Carmilla’s thumb on her clit and Carmilla’s mouth at her throat. They tumble back onto the bed, and Laura loses track of time mapping out every inch of Carmilla’s body with her mouth, swirling her tongue around her nipples, sucking marks across her stomach and hipbones, peppering kisses along her inner thighs until Carmilla’s hands are threading into her hair and impatiently dragging Laura’s mouth where she wants it. Laura strokes her tongue through the wet heat between Carmilla’s thighs, intoxicated by the taste of Carmilla on her tongue, until Carmilla’s arching up against her and coming with Laura’s name on her lips.
They lose themselves in each other, again and again and again until they’re both completely spent, collapsing against the mattress. Carmilla falls asleep first, curled into Laura’s side with an arm wrapped around her waist and her head on Laura's chest. Laura watches her sleep for a little while — in a totally not creepy way, of course — before her exhaustion catches up to her and she closes her eyes, snuggling closer to Carmilla underneath the blanket. Her last thought before drifting off to sleep is how, out of however many stars and constellations there are in the entire galaxy, none of them compare to Carmilla.
(But maybe she’s a little biased.)