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#i didn't find her with vampire eyes
delicatebluebirdruins · 8 months
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starlit-mansion · 5 months
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i still keep getting recommended posts about the james somerton debacle (unsurprising) and i swear to god, at this point i've spent more time trying to remember what my reaction was to watching his yoi video a while back while half-sleep deprived or smth than i a) spent watching the video and b) spent thinking about any other creator i watched one mid video from and ignored after
#at least i remember specifically deciding that blaire trianglehead was too slow paced and dull to keep listening to after about 3 vids#but also the subjects were really... ghoulish borderline true crime like the leggings scam vid that was 1/3 botched surgery talk#at least in my memory. and her dispassionately talking about it rather than sticking to the subject at hand and having little opinion#put me right off my lunch and i was done#somerton was allll up in my recs just before the bomb dropped and i was half keeping an eye out for a new vid about a subject i cared about#but it was literally all stuff i'm sick to death of. didn't want to hear about evil gays or vampires or if barbie is camp#it was all very... stuff i was already tired of seeing on tumblr and i didn't think i'd get anything new out of#but i was still keeping him in mind because i thought he was a type of person that had little presence in the video essay scene#lol in retrospect#but i do actually try to keep an eye out for creators with different backgrounds. esp black creators. and accept that i might disagree a bi#or find parts of their perspective a little uncomfortable or off-putting. so i probably would have forgiven some of the misogyny tbh#not that it's something that like. idk i should do to punish myself. it's not like there isn't a lot of microaggressions from women#but the fact that it was proven that so many of those were trumped up for show was. honestly a huge betrayal?#people are genuinely cruel to marginalized creators and pretending that it's worse than it is and flopping for sympathy is so galling#it's really easy to be like 'oh i would have never been taken in' just because there was already something keeping me at arms length#but i know that isn't true. i'm a freakin easy mark! you don't even want to know how many podcast/youtube sponsorships i've tried#and also sometimes i find something initially off-putting about a youtuber and later get into them more and find them charming#i genuinely don't think that i have unimpeachable first impressions and sometimes i test them later to see if they still hold
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luveline · 1 year
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𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
Your best friend Eddie tries to explain what a hickey feels like and finds he doesn't have the words. He could show you, though, if you want? [3k] 
fem!reader, shy!reader, implied inexpereinced!reader, friends-to-lovers, pining, mdni heavy petting, hickeys, lots of hickeys, marking up, neck kissing, shoulder kissing, heat of the moment confessions, eddie being flirty but also a good friend, requested here
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Eddie strokes down the length of his guitar neck almost tenderly. You're focused on his hands rather than his mouth as he recounts last night's date to you, distracted by the deft movement of his fingers, which aren't exactly small. It's an oxymoron —paradoxical, even— that his thick fingers would move with such gentle precision. 
You shift around where you're sitting on his bedroom floor, criss-cross applesauce with an uncomfortable heat rising from the bottomless pit of your stomach to your tight collar. The white button up you'd worn under your sweater vest is a size too small. You're really starting to notice. 
You peel out of the vest and hope it'll help you calm down.
"She wasn't exactly sweet," Eddie says, plucking a string, listening to the sound, and tuning it this way or that depending on how he liked it. "I think she wanted to get it over with, which isn't really my thing. She was in my lap before I could make it clear I wasn't interested in anything quick." 
You lift your gaze from his hands. He must feel you watching his face. He looks up in tandem and smiles reassuringly. "It's fine. I kind of thought she was getting into it, she was like a vampire on me at one point, but I wasn't feeling it and it's clear she wasn't either. Drove her home. How was your night, d'you watch that tape?" 
You trace the coil of a black curl down to his shoulder, and can't force yourself to meet his eyes as you ask, "A vampire?" 
"What?" 
"She was like a vampire at one point, you said." Eddie's arm goes still. "What did you mean by that?" you ask.
He puts his guitar down on the floor. You worry you've said something truly dull for him to place his sweetheart in such a rush, but Eddie's like that. He can tell you're embarrassed no doubt, and he's giving you the answer to your question as swiftly as he can to soothe the wound. 
"Here, look," he says. He pushes his hair away from his neck on one side and tilts his head, bearing a wine-stained curve of skin to you unabashedly. "She kissed me. She gave me a hickey, used a lot of teeth. That's why it's bruised so much on the edges." 
Warmth you've never felt rushes in, like your blood has superheated, and it's written on your face. Eddie's room feels suddenly a thousand times smaller than before and more intimate, his poster wallpaper curving in, the space between you inching closer. 
"Sorry," he says, "I know it's kind of weird to show you." 
"No, I'm sorry," you say, mortified. "I shouldn't have asked you." 
"Yeah, you should. You didn't get it and now you do. I don't mind telling you." 
Eddie lets his hair fall back against his neck, a kinky curtain that looks ridiculously soft in the orangey light of his lamp. There's a butter smoothness to it, and the way he moves as he does is worse, his hand open and reaching for you. He doesn't hold your hand, doesn't even try, just lets his upturned palm hang off the edge of his knee as if to say, Ask me whatever it is you want to ask me. It's cool. 
"Why would she do that?" you ask, gesturing to your neck.
"It's not her fault, I was flirting with her a ton trying to make it work."
"Not like that." 
Eddie's hand turns toward his knee. "Like what?" 
Your hand drifts to your own neck absentmindedly. You get kissing, wanting to be kissed and wanting to give them. You understand why she kissed his neck; if you'd been in her position, alone in the car with Eddie laying his charm on thick, you might climb the console and push aside his hair too. 
"I know why she kissed you. I don't see why she…" You rub your lips together, your embarrassment turning sharp. You hate how humiliating this feels. "I know what a hickey is, Eds, but why would you want one?" 
His turn to fluster. The tiniest tinge of pink paints his cheeks. "Are you asking me why I enjoyed it?" 
"Did you?" 
You despise yourself, truly. Worse when Eddie laughs, his chest forward, hair falling in his face as he chuckles sincerely. 
"Yeah," he says, smiling at you "I liked it. Before she started trying to kill me I was having a good time." 
He doesn't put you through the agony of asking what you both know he wants to. 
You've never had one?
"It feels warm, and it's– you know how being kissed gives you butterflies, right? It's better than that. It's hot, and all her weight is on you and you have your hand on her back trying to pull her in, and she's as close as she can be without, you know." Something flickers across Eddie's face. Not longing, but a remembered pleasure. It makes you squirm. 
"I don't see how it doesn't just hurt." 
The hand that hadn't been reaching for you holds a pick. He flashes it between his fingers, a party trick, a nervous tic, his eyelashes tangling together as his eyelids inch closed. He scrunches his face up for a second. 
"Don't hate me if I ask you something weird," Eddie says, eyes shut tight. 
You don't think you could. You watch Eddie's face, knowing he can't see your analysis, and feel a shock of pins and needles in your hands when his eyes open and immediately lock on to yours. 
"Do you want me to give you one?" he asks. 
Your lips feel like they've been glued shut. You're aware of your breathing, how shallow each inhale has become, but you can't do anything about it. 
He has the decency to acknowledge what position his question puts you in, "I know it might be weird but I can't describe it to you if you don't know what it feels like." 
You surprise him. You surprise yourself. "Uh, yeah. Okay." 
"Yeah?" 
"It doesn't hurt?" 
"Not unless you want it to." A hint of a smirk plays on his lips, though it fades quickly. "It doesn't hurt. That's not the point. But it can feel… foreign." 
You nod jerkily, wishing you knew what to do. 
The atmosphere is thick enough to cut through. Neither of you like it. Eddie gives you another type of smile, a familiar one that says, I'm your best friend, I always will be, so please chill out. 
"You're gonna have to sit in my lap." 
You actually laugh. "Eddie," you chastise, thinking it's a bad joke. 
"Sorry, sweetheart, but it's that or the bed." His teasing tone is light, but he still adds, "I mean, we can do it sitting next to each other but it's difficult. Whatever you want, though." 
You climb up on your knees. You're shy, absolutely, you always will be and especially when Eddie's teasing, but he really is your best friend, and the bed isn't happening.
He doesn't scare you. 
He grins and ushers you toward him. "Alright, come here." He tugs one of your thighs over his lap and your breath catches. He grabs the other and any laughter between you abruptly dies. 
You settle over his lap with an expression not far from pained. Eddie's hands rest against your thigh and your hip. He has to look up at you now, and he does as he encourages your weight firmly downward. You're more than conscious of where you're positioned. 
"Do me a favour?" he asks. 
"Yeah." You put your hand on his chest tentatively. 
"Don't suffer through it if you hate it, okay? All you have to do is say something and I'll stop, but if you feel like you can't, a good right hook would work too." 
"I'm not gonna hurt you," you protest. 
"Me neither," he says. His hand lifts from your thigh to your neck, and he brushes his fingertips down the curve of it ineffectually. It would feel good if you weren't choking on air. "Relax, sweetheart. Please." 
"I'm really warm." 
"Your shirt's too tight anyway," he says, hand at your collar. He thumbs open your top button, a second, and exposes the flat of your chest. His fingers slide across your neck as he folds back your starched collar. They're cool compared to the raging heat he finds there. 
You take a deep breath. 
"You could put your hands in my hair," he says. Wishful thinking has hope colouring his tone. 
You put your hands on his shoulders. The very tips of your fingers partition his curls. 
He raises an arm above your mess of limbs to weave a hand behind your ear. It's then that you feel his callouses, so rough against the delicate skin of your scalp. Despite their texture, you find it feels good. He tucks his hand in tight, and slowly, slowly turns your head to the side. 
"Look up," he murmurs. 
You lift your head and stare at the ceiling with widened eyes. 
He can't know but he does, and he says, "Close your eyes." The heat of his breath kisses your neck.  
You shiver at the suggestion of his lips, and again when they press to your skin. Close-lipped, Eddie kisses the skin just under your ear where on the opposite side of your head his thumb strokes quarter circles. You're quickly overwhelmed by the duelling sensations. You don't notice his lips have parted until he's kissing a sloven path downward, his spit cooling in wake. 
This isn't a hickey, this is straight up kissing, and you don't know what to do with how you feel. You hide your hands in his hair. 
It tugs him forward. He reads your hands for enthusiasm, and if it is or isn't he pulls you closer still and opens his mouth against your skin. His teeth are impossible to ignore. 
Your hand works further into his hair, getting caught in a tangle as he sucks your skin between his lips. His lazy mouthing turns insistent but still gentle, his teeth scratching ever so slightly at your pulse as it capers beneath his ministrations. You gasp at the warmth blossoming under your ribs. You cup the back of his neck a touch too tight. 
He doesn't stop kissing you, only grabs your wrist to stop you from choking him out. You make a sound you've never made with him before, a mewl, all breathless and teary as the sensation worsens. Which is to say, betters. 
He breaks a particularly rough kiss to suck in breath, his nose sliding up the curve of your neck as he leans back. "You okay?" he murmurs, half-lidded eyes locking onto your flushed face. 
"Why does it feel like that?" you ask. 
He drops his head, his nose level with your chin. "I don't know," he says, punctuating with a kiss right there, the closest bit of skin he can find. "Want me to do it again?" 
You swallow and he must see it. He says nothing, wrapping his arms around your waist as he waits for you to respond. Your stomach pushes into his, your arms braced on his shoulder so you don't collapse into his front, limp with touch. 
"Sweetheart, can I do it again?" he asks.
"Yeah," you say, quiet but enthusiastic. "Please." 
He's slower this time. Eddie leans into your neck and doesn't kiss you at first, his lips so close to your skin that you can feel their phantom. You skin tingles from his previous scandalising, and it doesn't beg, skin can't beg, but you can, you curl your arm behind his neck and hook his head there, crushing his hair to the crook of your arm. He doesn't take much convincing beyond that. His lips smush against your neck and you feel every millimetre as they part, heat and warmth and wet spreading like budding flowers come to bloom. You melt into him soon after, and Eddie takes your weight in stride, hand at the small of your back and pulling you in so hard you can feel his ribs. 
When you think you're used to it —not used to it, but expecting what can be expected— Eddie nips you. Tiny dainty kisses broken up with a nibbling you'd couldn't describe as anything but playful. He laughs at your gasping and does it again, again, giddy hot laughter mixed with one of the strangest feelings you've ever been subjected to. You're molten. You're dizzy with it.
Eddie pulls back enough to ask, "I'm gonna undo another button, okay? Just one. Is that alright?" 
"What for?" 
"So I can kiss your shoulder. Just your shoulder." He sounds pleading, desperately excited in a way you've never heard him and you want to know what it'll feel like, so you let him. 
This next button unveils the top of your bra and the soft hills of your breasts. He doesn't look, barely glances at his hand as he tugs your shirts down your arm, diving into the juncture of your neck like he needs it to breathe. His kisses are proper compared to some of the stuff he's been doing, but then he opens his mouth and the flat of his tongue wets your skin as he kisses kisses kisses down your shoulder. His hand is somewhere under your shirt, fingers slipped under your bra strap and pulling teasingly at the elastic as he eases you down in his arms. You're shorter than him where you'd started taller, totally compressed in his arms and at his mercy.
When he pulls back, the slimmest ribbon of spit shines between your shoulder and his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, his eyes glassy, and that hand cups your face. He pretty much grabs you, but there's not a lick of cruelty in his touch. Eddie's rough. Never cruel. 
"You're on fire," he says. It's objective rather than joking. "You're so hot. Do you want to stop?" 
"Not– not unless you want to," you say, trying to quieten your breathing. You sound like you've run a marathon. It feels like it. 
"I'm gonna give you a real one, cool?" 
"I didn't know they weren't real." 
"Oh, sweetheart," he says, and his eyes are damning, a loving pity in the black of his blown pupils, "I was just warming you up." 
Your mind blanks. 
"Make sure I can hide it," you say. 
You aren't thinking straight, concerned about hiding his hickeys but not what this means for the two of you. His unexpected hunger, and your willingness to let him eat you whole. 
"I don't think you can hide it anymore," he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 
You look down at his lips. They're rosy, swollen from the pressure.
He sees you looking. 
He yanks you in by the waist and sizes you up, almost, like he's calling your bluff, not spiteful but something mean about him as he stares at your mouth in return. 
Like he doesn't want you to make the mistake. Like he knows you won't. 
His hand tips your chin up high and he ducks his own down. An inch and you'd be kissing. That's all it would take.
"Is that really what you want?" he asks.
"I don't know," you say. Is it what he wants?
It has to be. 
"Have you wanted to, before?" He draws a line down your cheek with his marriage finger. Fast as a heavy tear. "You want me to kiss you?" 
"Yeah," you whisper, trying to make sense of this, your sudden confession, a secret want pushed into the light. 
Eddie turns his hand and strokes down your cheek with the back of it, pushing any dampened baby hairs away from your skin. His gaze softens. 
"Was that so hard?" he asks. 
"You knew?"
He kisses you. He's smiling, and he doesn't take just one. He must kiss you four or five times, your lips parted enough to know he could push it further if he wanted, but he doesn't. These kisses are unhurried, missing the ravenous passion of his hickeying but not the fondness. 
"You don't know how hard it is," he says after he's broken away, his forehead tipped against yours, "how hard it is to have someone look at you like you look at me everyday, like I'm something you can't have." 
"I didn't know–" you knew. You felt the same. His kissing is evidence alone. it's confessional.
"I know. Guess I thought nothing good would come of it, but– but I don't want good. I want you." 
He pulls back quickly, like you've said something confessional rather than him. He surprised himself. 
"I'm not good?" you ask. 
"You're good. You'll ruin me, that's all." 
You don't have time to ask him what he means by that. He kisses you again, kisses your cheek, draws a line of crescent moons down along your neck to the mess he's made of you. He kisses– he sucks your neck so hard, so sudden, that goosebumps erupt and you can't stop yourself from saying, "Ohh," as you cling to his shoulders. 
This is the vampire thing he'd talked about, the points of his teeth stark against your skin even now. There's another layer of vulnerability unveiled here, knowing that he could really hurt you and knowing he never would. He kisses you until you're overwhelmed by him. Heat everywhere. Sweat shining on your skin. You don't want anything else but this.
You squeak as the pressure turns from pleasurable to too much. Eddie hears the pain in it and pulls away, instantly sorry and willing to prove it, his hands cradling your face. 
You pant. He shushes you gently.
"Sorry, baby." He pets your cheeks. 
Your head falls back, too heavy on your sore neck. You feel wiped. 
Wiped, but good. Lax. 
"That was nice," you say breathlessly. 
Eddie sits up and drags you with him, hand behind your neck to prop you up. He's laughing again, his awful sweet laugh that you've heard a thousand times before. It never fails to make you smile. 
"You're like a dead fish." 
You cover an eye with your hand. "I take it the romance is over." 
"You thought that was romantic? Babe, I'm only getting started." 
Eddie gives you a quick peck. Where his hickey had felt like the heart of a star growing hotter with each passing second, his smaller kiss feels like the sun through blinds, a dappling of warmth. 
"Are you messing with me?" you ask.
He pushes his arms over your shoulders for a hug. 
"No. Not messing with you." His nose rubs against the shell of your ear. "It's about time we talked." 
You let your hand drift down the dip of his back.
"Okay," you mumble. Talking. You need to talk about whatever it is that just happened. 
"...Maybe I'll get you a glass of water first," he adds.
"That's a good idea." 
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, please consider letting me know/reblogging, it means the world to me and makes a big difference!! ♡ NOTE: Eddie def pines back if that isn't fully clear, I tried to imply it with his date where he could've hooked up with someone but didn't go through with it, it was cos he's too in lurve
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feyascorner · 3 months
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When you tell Astarion that your favorite feature of his are his wrinkles---the smile lines in particular---he nearly faints on the spot, jaw-dropping in utter disbelief as he stares at you in horror.
"I do not have wrinkles."
"You also can't see yourself."
"I know enough to know I'm a vampire! An immortal being! Aging, is below me, and I'll remain forever youthful while everyone else develops those wretched creases."
Despite his words, his finger reaches to rub at his skin inquisitively, as if he's feeling for any imperfections. It's cute, you think. He doesn't seem to agree.
Snorting, you roll your eyes playfully. "You asked me what physical aspect I liked about you most. You have your answer."
"Yes, something beautiful."
"It is beautiful."
"Darling," he says, squinting. "Nobody thinks of wrinkles when asked what they seek in a partner. Haven't you seen Jaheira put all those herbs on her face while our younger companions sleep blissfully beside her? The price of time, they call it."
"You're not young either."
He gasps, feigning offense. "I am--physically, that is."
You sigh, shrugging as you reach for your brush on the bedside drawer, ignoring his helpless tugs to bring you back to bed. "Fine then. I like your eyes."
"Well now it doesn't feel as sincere."
You deadpan, whipping your head around to shoot him a tired glare, but he's already broken out into a grin. Wordlessly, he sits up, plucking the brush out of your hands and shifting so you're situated practically on his lap. Slowly, he begins to brush the knots out of your bedridden hair, and you stare out the window, basking in his presence. His hands feel soft as they brush against your shoulder.
It's nice to indulge in moments like this from time to time.
The peaceful silence is broken as he sets down the brush.
"What about it do you find so alluring?" he asks, pooling your hair into one of his palms. He reaches for the string loosely hanging around his wrist with the other. "Other than the fact that I wear it flawlessly."
"They're easier to see when you're smiling," you mumble. "Your smile's always been a charm of yours, as fake as it was when we first met."
He pauses momentarily, only resuming to tie your hair a split second later. "And now?"
"It's a real smile," you reply. "So I like it."
He blinks.
Then, Astarion pushes your hair to one shoulder, leaning to rest his chin on the crook of your shoulder. "...I didn't realize there was such a sentiment in your answer."
"Will you stop complaining about looking old now?"
"I can't guarantee that, even if all the gods above were to will it," he grins, and it earns a stifled laugh on your part. "But...I suppose I don't despise the answer as much..."
You turn your head a tad, luring his face closer to yours with a finger on his chin. "I wouldn't be so sure. I'm very convincing, I hear."
"Are you now?"
You nod, holding either side of his face in your palms now. "If I must convince you of the beauty I see in you, then I will."
He kisses the inside of your hand. "I'm sure you will, darling."
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lendeah · 3 months
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Three times you take care of Astarion and one time he takes care of you
[ao3 link]
You were a caring person. That much was clear from the first moment you let him drink off you, almost to death. It was also clear when you tried to cool Karlach down with a rainy spell so you could hug her. Or give Gale every piece of magic item in your inventory so he could eat it. You enjoyed taking care of people.
However, taking care of Astarion wasn't an easy task. As much as you wanted to be there for him and help him, the vampire was a difficult person to handle. He was like a wild animal, constantly on edge and ready to lash out. It soon became clear that Astarion wasn't used to being on the receiving end of caring. Wasn't used for someone to care at all.
So you went little by little, as to not startle him. You started by simply spending time with him. Patiently listening to his endless complaints and blatant flirting, offering a sympathetic ear and a playful response, respectively. It was clear that Astarion enjoyed your company, even if he didn't always show it. He would often make snarky comments or sarcastic remarks, but you could tell that deep down, he appreciated having someone around.
Of course, you let him drain you dry every night, which honestly left you sick and tired through the day, but it was worth the glint in his eyes and the way his cheeks seemed to light up as if he was alive again.
You couldn't help but notice; he always had a book in his hands. Whether you were at camp or out on an expedition, he was constantly reading. So you began collecting every book you stumbled upon and leaving them on his bedroll for him to find when he returned to his tent. No matter the genre- whether it was a history book, poetry or even erotica- you always gifted them to him.
The first times, he would search around the camp in confusion, wondering who had left them there for him. But after the fifth or sixth book, the vampire's expression would light up with a secretive smile as he eagerly flipped through the pages. It warmed your heart to see him so engrossed in a story, his curiosity evident in his shining eyes. However, you kept your identity hidden: if he knew it was you leaving the books, he might become wary again and you didn't want to risk it after coming this far. This went on for a few weeks until one day, as you were leaving another book, a voice called out from behind you.
"Well, hello there. I suppose the game is up."
You froze, the book still in your hands, as you turned around to see Astarion standing with a sly smile on his face.
"I... erm, I just found these books lying around and thought they might be yours," you said lamely.
He smirked, eyes narrowing as if he saw right through your excuses. "Funny, I don't recall owning any of these books you are holding."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "Oh...I must have made a mistake then."
But Astarion just shook his head, walking closer to you until he was within arm's reach. "You think I don't know what you're doing? You haven't exactly been subtle, sweetheart."
You felt your face heat up even more, the blush reaching your ears.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your voice came out a little squeaky.
Astarion chuckled. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I might suspect that you were trying to seduce me. If you wanted to come into my tent, all you had to do was ask, my dear."
"I-It... It's not like that!" you sputtered out, trying to avoid eye contact with him. "I just thought... you like reading."
"Oh, I do," Astarion said in a low voice. "Among other things."
You swallowed hard as your mind raced. Had he just... Was he implying what you thought he was implying?
"I-I should really get going," you said quickly, turning away from him and almost tripping over your own feet.
But before you could run off, Astarion's hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. "Wait," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. His expression was a bit serious, a stark contrast to the playful persona he usually wore. "Thanks for the effort. It's almost sweet, doing all this for me."
The two of you stood there for a moment longer before Astarion spoke up again.
"Perhaps we could have a little fun and read them together sometime?" he suggested with a raised eyebrow.
You smiled shyly at him, feeling butterflies in your stomach at his offer.
"I... I would love that," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice.
Astarion's smile widened and he released your wrist. "Wonderful. I look forward to it, my dear. And I do hope the next book is a good one."
You walked away from his tent, trying to convince yourself that the thumping of your heart was simply due to your love for taking care of others.
With each passing day, your meetings with Astarion in his tent became a familiar routine. You allowed him to feed on you, then spent time reading together from the books you had collected for him. It was also a chance for you to study him closely, searching for any other way to care for him. One night, as he read aloud to you, the soothing sound of his voice lulled you into a peaceful slumber, curled up on his bedroll next to him. The next morning, as sunlight flooded the tent, you woke up to find Astarion already awake, holding a book in his hands.
"Good morning," you said, rubbing the sleep off your eyes. "Sorry I fell asleep here."
Astarion raised an eyebrow at you. "No need to apologize. I must say, you look quite lovely when you're sleeping. Although you do not sound that lovely, but well, we can't all be perfect."
You rolled your eyes, then sat up stretching your limbs. As you glanced around the room, your eyes landed on the book in his hand - the one you two had been reading last night. It was almost finished now.
"Wait, you haven't slept?"
He let out a soft laugh.
"My dear, I am an elf. We do not sleep; we trance. And to answer your inquiry, no, I did not partake in that either. It's not something I typically find enjoyable."
You looked at Astarion with confusion and concern. "But... why? Don't you need to rest?"
He gave a casual shrug. "If I enter into a trance, the only memories accessible to me are my own life experiences. And let me tell you, those are not pleasant memories."
"But isn't there a way for you to... just rest? Without the memories, I mean?" You asked.
Astarion smirked, his eyes still fixed on the book in his hands. "Why bother learning how to sleep when I can trance instead?" he quipped "Trancing has always been my preferred method anyway."
You couldn't imagine what it was like, being forced to relive your trauma over and over again every night.
"I’m so sorry, Astarion," you whispered, your voice barely above a hush.
He waved his hand dismissively. "Oh well," he said, "It's all in the past now, isn't it? Just another part of who I am."
You nodded slowly but you couldn’t shrug off his words as easily as he could. You recalled the way he looked when he was trancing - peaceful and unguarded. It was hard to imagine that behind those serene features he was being haunted by his memories.
The day was a blur, as you struggled to maintain a cheerful facade and engage in small talk. However, Astarion's words continued to haunt you. As the evening progressed and you both followed your usual nightly routine, you made a decision to do something.
"Astarion." He turned to you, a curious look on his face. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage."I think we could try something different tonight. Do you trust me?"
Astarion looked at you as though surprised by the question, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Trust is a strong word, darling," he replied, a smirk forming on his lips. "But yes, I suppose I do trust you."
"Good," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.
You cleared your throat as you settled into the bedroll, signaling for him to join you. Astarion raised an eyebrow but followed your lead, settling into the bedroll beside you.
"Rest your head on my lap," you instructed softly
Astarion's eyebrows shot up once more, but then he shrugged and followed your instructions. He cautiously rested his head on your lap, surprising you with his compliance. Sensing the tension in his body, you refrained from touching him yet, and instead reached for your bag. He watched you curiously as you took out a small jar.
"What's that?" he asked, his eyes glinting with intrigue.
"It's a special blend of herbs and oils that I use to help me relax and sleep better," you explained, opening the tub and taking out a small dab of the mixture. "Can I touch you?"
He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, before he answered, "Yes you may."
You rubbed the mixture between your fingers before gently massaging it onto his temples and forehead. You could feel him tense under your touch, probably not used to this kind of contact.
"Does it help?" he asked quietly, his eyes closed.
"It helps me," you replied honestly. "I'm not sure if it'll have the same effect on you, but I figured it's worth a try."
He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," you replied, smiling back down at him. "Now just close your eyes and try to relax. Let your thoughts drift you away."
Astarion blinked, his long lashes fluttering against his pale skin. He looked at you with a mix of surprise and skepticism, clearly hesitant to follow your lead. But he didn't protest, didn't push your hands away. Instead, he nodded slightly, closing his eyes once more.
You watched him closely, noticing how the tension in his jaw gradually subsided and the creases on his forehead smoothed out little by little. You continued gently massaging his temples, the rhythmic movements soothing both of you.
The change in his demeanor prompted a fluttering sensation in your stomach that you hastily shrugged away, reminding yourself not to read too much into it.
Eventually, you started running your fingers through his hair and Astarion let out a contented hum, adjusting himself slightly in response. You could have sworn he was purring, and it seemed like he had fallen into a deep slumber.
By the end of the night, you were asleep with your hands still gently stroking his head.
From that moment, a subtle tension seemed to linger between the two of you. It was unspoken, but present every time you were alone together. Astarion would ask for your help to fall asleep each night, and without fail, he would drift off quickly and sleep soundly. You loved watching him relax under your touch, feeling his body go limp and his soft sleepy sounds. But more than that, you enjoyed drifting off with your fingers tangled in his soft curls, your heart feeling light and at ease in his presence.
However, the perils of your journey became worse as your party reached the Underdark. Your main concern became avoiding attacks from shadow monsters, leaving little room for any attention to whatever connection was building between you two.
One night, as you approached Astarion's tent, you noticed him sitting cross-legged in front of his small mirror. His brow was furrowed and his expression was one of deep contemplation. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should disturb him or not.
"Looking at something?" he suddenly asked.
You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to break the silence.
"How did you see me?"
"The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn't quite make up for the lack of a reflection, mind you."
And then it clicked. He couldn't see his own reflection. Why hadn't it occurred to you before?
"Do you miss it? Your own face, I mean."
Of course he did, what a stupid question.
"Preening in the Looking Glass? Petty vanity?" Astarion scoffed, "Of course I miss it."
Astarion's tone was bitter, his gaze fixed on his reflection-less face in the mirror. You sat down next to him, mirroring his position.
"I've never even seen this face not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red"
So he hadn't seen his face in over 200 years. You couldn't imagine what that must feel like. To not have seen your own face in over two centuries. To be unable to remember how it even looked like.
After your conversation, ideas began to circulate in your mind. You considered asking Gale to use his magic to transform your appearance to match his, but that would only be temporary. You wanted something more permanent that would allow him to admire his own face whenever he pleased. The thought of enchanting his mirror so that it would reflect his image crossed your mind. Surely there had to be a spell for that. However, time was limited and you were unsure how much you could dedicate to the task anyway. Then, an answer presented itself at the Last Light Inn when you encountered an artist on your way.
"How long would it take for you to paint a portrait?"
"Like, a month?"
"I will pay you triple if you finish it in a week."
Although the artist was hesitant, the promise of triple payment was too tempting for him to turn down. And so, a week later, you returned to Astarion's tent with a canvas in hand. He arched an eyebrow in question.
"What is this?" Astarion asked, gesturing towards your offering. "Another gift? At this rate, my tent will be overflowing with your generosity."
You grinned and gently set the canvas on the floor in front of him. A delicate, sheer fabric covered its surface.
"This is a special one, though."
His eyes glossed over with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as he leaned forward to unwrap it. An expectant silence filled the tent, the only sound being the rustle of fabric as he carefully lifted the veil. The sight that greeted his gaze left him momentarily speechless - an exquisitely painted portrait of a man, elegantly handsome with sharp, angular features and piercing red eyes.
"What is this?" Astarion asked with a chuckle, clearly admiring the artwork."You've given me a portrait of a handsome stranger? How thoughtful, dear. But the quality could be better, honestly."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you whispered, "That's you," holding your breath for his reaction.
There was a tense moment of silence as Astarion stared at the portrait. You couldn't quite read his expression, and your heart started to race with anxiety. Had you made a mistake? Was he displeased with the gift? Maybe you were intruding too much in his personal life...
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally spoke. "This is... me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, almost disbelieving.
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes.
"Yes. I wanted you to have something that would allow you to see yourself again, so I asked an artist at the Last Light Inn to paint you."
His fingers traced over the painting, brushing lightly over the likeness of his own face, his own eyes - red now - but still his. He took a step back as if he'd been hit, staggering slightly. There was a moment where he just stood there, staring at the man in the portrait - at himself.
"Is this... is this how I look now?" He asks, voice barely audible.
You swallowed hard and nodded, "Yes."
"I..." he started, then stopped. Shaking his head, he turned towards you with a conflicted look in his red eyes. "I... don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything," you told him reassuringly, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
He looked at you for a long moment before nodding and squeezing your hand back. A tear trickled down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away, but not before you saw it glistening in the dim light.
"Thank you," he said finally. It's quiet, almost lost in the silence of the tent, but the sincerity in his voice is unmistakable. You smiled at him, feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over you.
"You're welcome," you whispered softly.
Astarion's crimson eyes shimmered with tears as he gazed at the painting, struggling to maintain his composure. You gave him a reassuring smile before turning around to give him some space to process his thoughts and feelings. But just as you were about to leave, he reached out and took hold of your hand, stopping you.
"Don't go" he said solemnly. "Please don't go... I'd like to... I want..." slowly, he stepped closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.
You were taken aback for a moment but then quickly melted into his embrace. After a moment of silence, the vampire spoke softly, his voice raspy.
"I don't know... how to repay you, I..." he murmured into your hair.
"You don't have to," you whispered back, feeling overwhelmed by his sudden display of emotion.
After what felt like an eternity, Astarion finally pulled away slightly so that he could look into your eyes. His eyes were moist with tears, but they also held a glimmer of hope, happiness. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a wave of warmth spread throughout your body from the simple touch. And in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had fallen for this man. It wasn't just a matter of caring anymore; you were deeply and irrevocably in love with him.
And you would tell him, you decided. You would let him know that he didn't owe you anything because you had acted out of love. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your veins. His eyes were still on yours, searching, questioning.
"Astarion...," you started, your voice soft and filled with emotion, "I need to tell you... I..."
However, just as you were about to spill your heart, the sound of someone calling for you pierced through the quiet atmosphere of the tent. With a sigh, you reluctantly untangled yourself from Astarion's arms.
"I'm afraid that's my cue."
He gave a silent nod, his eyes reflecting a mix of conflicting emotions.
"Sure, sure. Wouldn't want to interrupt your exciting duties as our esteemed leader."
You rolled your eyes with a small smile and got out of the tent. However, there was a feeling of disappointed and regret for not being able to express your true feelings to him. You made a mental note to tell him later when you had the chance.
But that night, Astarion didn't come to his bedroll. Nor the next one. Or the one following. You sensed he was putting some distance between you as if something had changed. He continued with his blatant flirting and sly remarks, of course. They just seemed... mechanical. Every time you tried to talk about your feelings, he would deflect or change the subject. Days turned into weeks and still nothing changed between you two. Astarion remained distant and aloof while you struggled with your own emotions, feeling confused and rejected.
One morning, you woke up with a heavy weight on your chest. You initially dismissed it as the usual feeling of sadness that had been lingering for a week now. But after a whole day of choking on your own breath and dizziness, mixed with a deep pounding in your head, you knew this wasn’t the case. Despite your condition, you pushed through the day, determined not to be seen as weak or unreliable by your group.
However, as time passed, it became increasingly difficult to hide your worsening state from everyone else. Your coughing spells were becoming more frequent, and your body was weakening rapidly. You could sense Astarion's worried stare on you from time to time, but he never approached you to inquire about your condition.
That all changed one morning when you couldn't even muster the strength to get out of bed. Your entire body was in pain and your fever was soaring. You heard footsteps approaching your bedrolls and prepared yourself for one of your companions coming to check on you (or more likely, tell you off). However, it was Astarion's smirking face that came into view.
"Well, well, well," he said with a teasing tone, "Seems like our fearless leader is not feeling so fearless anymore. Feeling lazy today, are we?"
You managed to roll your eyes, laying your arm back over them to shield from the morning sunlight peering in through a hole in the tent. "If by lazy you mean sick, then yes." Your voice was weak and raspier than usual. You coughed into your arm, the action causing your body to shake and shudder with discomfort.
"Hmm..." Astarion's voice was no longer teasing. "That doesn't sound good, darling."
His gaze was intense when he leaned down to press his hand against your forehead. You suppressed a shiver at the unexpected coolness it brought and tried to turn away from him. He didn't let you, pushing your hair away from your face with his other hand.
"You're burning up," he said, moving away from you but not before you saw the worry flash briefly in his eyes. He stood up abruptly and started pacing around your bedroll, "What can I do?" He asked more to himself than you.
"Nothing… I just need… rest..." You managed to respond before another coughing fit washed over you.
Astarion shook his head "I'm going to get Shadowheart and Halsin. They will know what to do."
Astarion hurried out of the tent, and surely a few minutes later he came back bringing your two companions. As Halsin handed you the potion and Shadowheart casted her healing spells, Astarion's hand brushed against yours briefly before pulling away.
"Thank you," you whispered weakly before passing out.
A few hours later, after resting and drinking more disgusting beverages than you could count, your fever had finally subsided a bit and your coughing fits were less frequent. Astarion stayed by your side through the whole ordeal, a comforting silhouette against the flickering candlelight. You closed your eyes and felt his cold hand soothingly stroke your forehead. The cool, comforting touch of his skin against yours was a relief from the fever heat radiating off your body.
"Feel any better?" Astarion asked, raising an eyebrow.
You attempted a smile, "Well, I'm not dead yet."
His lips twitched in response, a semblance of his usual smirk flickering across his handsome face. "Good. That would be inconvenient for my dietary needs."
Despite feeling weak and exhausted, you couldn't help but chuckle. It was a welcome distraction from the constant throbbing pain in your head and rattling chest.
He shifted awkwardly on his seat next to you, looking almost hesitant, before he started speaking again. "I... I was scared of losing you," he admitted, "And I have to confess something."
His usually confident and cocky demeanor was replaced with an almost childlike uncertainty.
"What is it?" You asked, your voice still weak but full of concern.
He sighed heavily before meeting your gaze.
"I had a nice simple plan; to manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. And honestly, I thought it would be so easy, with you being so open, so eager to care for everyone..." He frowns, "But that is the thing. You are so kind, so thoughtful. No one's ever cared for me the way you have. And... I don't know how to handle it."
You reached out and grasped his hand, squeezing it gently. "I understand," you said softly. "It's not easy to let someone take care of you, but you don't have to push me away. You deserve love and happiness just like everyone else."
He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I want to try," he said, determination flickering in his gaze. "I want to let you take care of me. And I want to take care of you, if you let me."
You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words.
"Of course. But first, I feel like I need to tell you something too." You took a deep breath before continuing, "I...I think I'm falling in love with you."
He looked at you puzzled, before letting out a loud laugh.
"Oh, my love. I already knew."
You were taken aback by his words. "What? You did?"
He rolled his eyes "Dear, you were hardly subtle about it. A portrait? Essential oils? Come on..."
You couldn't help but laugh at his response, feeling relieved and embarrassed all at once.
"I guess I'm not as sneaky as I thought," you said, shaking your head.
"But I'm not better." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "I've been falling for you since the moment you started leaving books on my bedroll."
With that, he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. It was like a spark igniting, sending waves of electricity through your body. In that brief moment, all the emotions and tensions that had been building between you seemed to dissipate into thin air. The softness of his lips against yours was like a warm embrace, melting away any doubts or fears you may have had.
When you both pulled away, you rested your forehead against his and whispered, "You are going to get ill now."
He chuckled, "How fortunate I am already dead then."
Yet, in that moment, the gleam of his eyes made him seem more alive than you had ever seen him.
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amaranthineghost · 6 months
Note
Hi there! Can you do a pov/one shot/ fanfic where Lando is dating Y/N and her love language is biting. She randomly and softly bots Lando but he enjoys it knowing that she is fully comfortable with him to be herself. One day Max,Pietra and some other friends of Lando come to visit them in Monaco and Pietra is annoyed with Max for teasingly refusing to sit next to Y/N, P telling him that he can sit next to Y/n cause she doesn’t bite. Lando starts laughing and says that y/n does bite and moves his shirt to show a small bite mark on his shoulder. Y/N laughs it off but she gets insecure thinking that her love language is bothering Lando so she fights the urge to bite him again. After a few days Lando notices that she doesn’t bite him anymore and starts thinking that he did something to upset her. He asks her why and she eventually tells him and he gets a bit upset. He tells her that he actually likes it because its her way of showing her love and the fact that she is comfortable around him.
Idk some fluff or something
Thank you for at least reading this and I really love your work🧡
|  SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME, MY DEAR ( lando norris. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader
ꕥ summary: reader's love language is biting, but experiences a feeling of insecurity
ꕥ author note: oh to have a boyfriend to experience this with. fair warning, I refrain from using y/n in imagines unless it's really unavoidable because at this point y/n is a whole person by herself. if something is worded weirded, or 'she' and 'her' get repetitive, that's why. but anyways, I really like this request, its so cute and silly and i hope i did it justice :3
HIS BODY WAS OFTEN ADORNED with bite marks, indentions in his skin where you could see the canines had dipped it lower than the rest. it was a reminder to him of her love.
and he happily carried them everywhere with him, smiling to himself with every glance in the mirror at his bare torso. some faded more than others as they trailed along his arms, upwards to his shoulder and across to his collarbone.
the pads of his fingers slowly rubbed over them, a small smile spreading across his face, something he'd done everyday as the new blemishes came and went.
at first, he'd thought of it as strange, taken off guard by the sudden pinch on his bicep as she'd sink her teeth into his flesh. not so hard to break skin, she wasn't a vampire. but it was enough for him to be reminded of it.
as time went on and the occurrences became more frequent, he'd find himself smiling at it. it was his way of knowing she loved him, that she was comfortable around him, that she was safe with him, she always was and she knew that. at least he hoped she did.
to be loved was to be bitten, was what he knew. she had taught him that.
he had noticed a change though, it was hard not to. the sudden pinces throughout the day, he hadn't noticed weren't there because he had gotten used to them being there. if that made sense. it did to him.
but if he didn't notice the lack of sudden but light pain, followed with a trail of thin salvia leading to the culprits lips, he would notice the lack of marks that riddled his body.
lando had woken up that morning, groggy and his body sore from yesterday's training. the warm of his shared bed beckoned him to stay. to lay with her forever.
he wished he could, but he knew better than to lay around, even if it was with his girlfriend. though he might. was there ever any harm to remain within the comfort and grasp of the warm body that stayed passed out next to him, oblivious to his waking?
he always thought not. his trainer thought otherwise but turned a blind eye for the young couple. though their sickeningly love for the other made him roll his eyes behind their backs. all fun and games. something to laugh about.
his veined hands, warm and adorned with rings, traced across the low of her back. he watched the goosebumps take their place on her skin, her face stirring as she pushed herself further into the bed. he chuckled softly at her reaction, his thumb gliding across her exposed skin, dipping below the hem of the cloth on her body.
he lightly squeezed the flesh under his fingertips, pulling his hand across her back before replacing the covers on her. he slipped out of bed, leaning over momentarily.
his fingers slipped through her hair, getting caught in the knots that tied in the midst of her slumber. using his thumb, he brushed the strands from her face to see half her features smushed against the plush pillow.
another low chuckle escaped his throat, tucking the hair behind her ear as he pulled back and stared at the beauty before him. his eyes dilated the more he looked at her, but he wouldn't know.
his journey through the bathroom to get ready would be halted when he noticed a difference on his bare skin. but it wasn't bare because of the lack of shirt he found himself not to be wearing. what was different?
the pads of his fingers traced his skin for the indentions he cherished deeply, only met with the perfect evenness of his tan skin.
his actions haltered and brows furrowed. instinctively, he leaned closer to the mirror, the veins in his hands becoming more prominent as he pulled his skin. he turned in circles.
no blemishes in sight. not the work of his beloved girlfriend anyways.
he frowned, disappointed by the disruption of his routine. his ritual.
he swore to her many times that he could probably differentiate the marks of her teeth in his flesh to any other bite mark he'd come across. he knew her teeth better than his own. he swore he did.
he knew the indentions that littered his skin, but they weren't here. he wanted them to be so bad. why the change?
his heart sunk in his chest. he sighed. how could he not notice?
his eyes met his own gaze in the mirror, his fingers still tracing his bare collarbone and down his shoulder. he pursed his lips, eating away at the pink flesh until it irritated.
his hands fell down to the sink, supporting his body weight as he leaned on them as he pondered.
he surely noticed how faded they looked. how the red inflammation, that manifested on his skin, just didn't. but the change never processed in his brain.
he racked through the events of the past couple of days. nothing stood out.
they'd mostly stayed home together, other than the times lando went out for training. but it surely wasn't that, as she had no problem with it in the past. she understood what he did and the requirements of it that he had to meet.
lando groaned in realization. days earlier, lando and his girlfriend were out on the water with a few of their friends, drivers and their girlfriends.
it was a beautiful day, he had remembered because of the way the sun reflected off her skin, how her pupils shrank at the blinding light, but revealed the capsulating colors behind them.
he sat on the cushioned seats of the yacht, next to her with his warm hand on her inner thigh, a drink in the other. the rest of the group littered around the deck with various drinks in hand as they chatted.
most of them were just hanging out in their swimsuits as none of them had yet decided to take the plunge into the crystal waters.
they had sat next to each other for a while, lando leaning closer to hear her voice, the music was loud. her lips grazed his ear a few times, he remembered. the gloss on her lips left on his skin.
she remembered the scratch of his cheek as he'd forgotten to shave earlier whenever he'd lean into whisper in her ear. his lips ghostly hovered her neck, grazing her skin softly. despite the warm sun, goosebumps took their place down her neck.
he always chuckled at the rising bumps on her skin whenever he did something she liked. it always gave him a surge of confidence to know the effect he had against her.
"get a room!" the brit called out, laughing as he walked over with a drink in hand. his girlfriend followed behind, shaking her head at his words, but a smile evident on her face.
max fewtrell was one of lando's long time friends. their girlfriends also happened to be friends, long before the two guys came into their lives.
"mind if we sit?" pietra asked, not waiting for an answer as she took a place on the leather couch. leaving a space between the two girls so max could sit too.
she looked up to see max still standing, she rolled her eyes and patted the spot next to her, "there's enough room for all of us, why won't you sit?"
max shrugged his shoulder, "I don't know, mate, she might bite me if I try sitting down!" he exclaimed jokingly, inciting a laugh between the group.
she felt her body heat up uncomfortably, laughing along despite her discomfort.
pietra tugged on his sleeve, "she doesn't bite, you're being dramatic." her attempts were futile.
lando laughed and shook his head, "I don't know, mate, you might want to be careful." his hand left her thigh as he pulled up his sleeve to his shoulder, as he hadn't taken off his shirt just yet.
she felt her face flush and reddened, but hid it by laughing with the group, pushing her head into the crevice of his neck momentarily. his hand found her back again.
she felt the cushion next to her dip, followed by a hand squeezing her knee. she turned her head. pietra gave her a sympathetic look when she'd realized the girl's reaction.
pietra leaned close to her ear, like what lando and her were doing earlier. she whispered a few words to her before pulling away and taking a sip of her drink, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. she felt herself smile and relaxed in her seat.
but on the inside, she was eating herself up, overthinking to exhaustion. her stomach felt sick, was her habit a bother to him?
she found herself hiding in the bathroom throughout the rest of the hangout, claiming seasickness but denying medicine for it.
each time she find hersef back in the bathroom with anxious nausea and the door locked, lando would be on the other side. he'd knock on her door, talking her through it, asking her if he could get her anything, telling her he'd wait for her to come out again.
days past and she refrained from sinking her teeth into the perfect skin of his bicep, the valley of his collarbone, or the broadness before the drop of his shoulder.
each time she found herself with the urge to show the love she had through her teeth, she stopped herself.
it killed lando to think about how he could've made her feel. but he needed her to come to him, he didn't want to pry information out of her.
he could ask but he couldn't make her tell.
the door to the bathroom creaked open, lando's head snapping towards the noise, noticing the tired face eyeing him through the slit in the door.
he pushed himself from the counter, his heart beating slightly faster as he sighed. she opened the door more and dragged her feet against the tiled floor. he noticed the way her eyes squinted against the light.
she stopped when she collided against him. her cheek pushed against his chest as she leaned her weight against him.
he pulled her closer when he placed a hand on her head, another one around the low of her back. his lips were against her hair and he inhaled slowly. the faded tropical scent of her shampoo lingered in her hair.
in his head, he debated asking her. not only was she still tired, but he didn't want to push her farther, in case he had done something.
his heart beat heavily in his chest, muttering against her scalp, "what's going on, darling?" he caressed the strands of her hair, "hm?"
her heart skipped a beat, she thought he hadn't noticed, or that he didn't say anything because he had secretly hoped for this to happen.
she decided to play dumb, speaking softly against his bare skin, "what do you mean?" her voice muffled.
"come on, I know your biting habits. what's wrong?" he spoke patiently to her as he cradled her tired body in his arms, swaying softly as they stood admist the cold bathroom air.
her eyes fluttered shut as she mumbled, "I thought it annoyed you."
his head shook against hers, "why do you think that, love?" he held his breath for the answer, but in his heart, he knew what she was going to say.
he was met with silence for a long time, he knew she was thinking it over in her head. she finally spoke, "remember the yacht trip a few days ago?"
he exhaled deeply, his eyes clenching shut as he pursed his lips, "i'm an idiot," he muttered, pulling away partially.
" 's okay," she shrugged, looking up at him with big eyes.
he swore in his mind, if it weren't for the circumstances, he would've folded. he slowly blinked, his tongue gliding along his lower lip.
"it's not, darling. even if max and i were just messing around," he breathed in and out slowly, his hand caressing her pillow-marked face, "i'm sorry you felt that way, okay? you know, i love when you do it," he reassured, and he saw her eyes dilate when he did.
"really? but why?" she questioned him, scanning his face, eyes, body language for any hint of deceit. she found none.
"it tells me you're comfortable, baby, and that's all I want for you."
she listened for his tone. it was sincere.
and they stayed like that for a while. in each other's embrace, they knew all was well again as they talked through it some more.
"ow."
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vanillawurld · 7 months
Text
༊*·˚ Worth The Wait
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✧.* Request- @vampiric-tempt
"Saw that you were taking MK1 requests! May I requests head canons of how the Lin Kuei brothers treat a reader they’re secretly in love with? How would they react when reader finds out?
Thank you and have a lovely day 🫶🏼"
✧.* Pair - Bi-Han x Fem! Reader, Kuai Liang x Fem! Reader, Tomas Vrbada x Fem! Reader (separately)
✧.* Tags & Warnings - Fluff, love, and confessions
✧.* Extra - Headcanons yesssss also to the requester, I hope its okay if I changed things up just a bit :)
✧.* Word Count - 1,790
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Bi-han
: ̗̀➛ Seeing how much of an aggressive and wrathful person Bi-han is, everyone would assume he had no time for "crushes." Bi-han had that assumption of himself as well, but he was extremely wrong.
: ̗̀➛ When Bi-han laid his eyes on Y/N, deep down he knew he needed to be her man. This wasn't a "crush" this was "love" which were the same exact words Madam Bo said to him.
: ̗̀➛ Even when Bi-han is madly in love with Y/N, he still tries to compose the same aggressive attitude he always has. But his emotions won't even let him raise his voice at his Y/N. Bi-han was more gentle around Y/N, but still managed to have his "scary" frame of mind. Deep down he wants to protect her and make sure no one is causing harm towards or around her. He doesn't treat her like how he treats the others, he's actually very cautious around her. Some may even call him "delicate" when he's close to her. (which angers him and makes his angry self come out)
: ̗̀➛ Of course, he doesn't treat her like a child. Far from that actually because he knows that she dislikes it when she is treated that way. But, he would do anything for her. He would win a thousand wars for her. He would travel across every realm for her. He loves her.
: ̗̀➛ When Y/N found out that she had herself an admirer, it felt like Bi-han's world was destroyed. He felt embarrassed and angry at the same time. Mainly anger because he felt like he was betrayed. He didn't even tell anyone about his feelings towards Y/N, but he still felt like someone betrayed him.
: ̗̀➛ When Y/N confronted Bi-han about his feelings, Bi-han pretended to act like she was delusional;
"You have no idea what you're talking about, go make yourself useful and-" Y/N cut him off by raising her finger up to his lip.
"Your attitude and body language towards me give it all away." she simply said to him. Bi-han didn't have a response to that. He felt like if he kept denying his feelings any further, he would for sure give himself away. But, staying silent would also make things worse.
"You are good at detecting ... I am pacified by your presence. Not like the others, you cause no trouble. When compared to other people, I would much rather be around you." Bi-han said to Y/N. He himself couldn't believe what came out of his mouth. Madam Bo was right when she said love makes you do crazy things.
Y/N smiled. A confession was all she needed from him. It pained her to see his obvious signs but not a confession. She came close to his face and placed a rather light kiss on the corner of his lips. Confirming that she felt the same way about him. Bi-han was star-struck. His mind couldn't process what just happened. He stood there and watched as his now lover walked away from him. From that day forward, Bi-han made an oath to himself to always protect her and their love from any evil.
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Kuai Liang
: ̗̀➛ Kuai has known (his lovely) Y/N his whole life. He's developed his feelings over time and has no shame about it. At least, for now. Every day he would hope for Y/N to show a glimpse of her feelings towards him. One part of him called himself desperate but the other part didn't care. He would do anything in the world for Y/N to hold him close.
: ̗̀➛ He was a lot more softer on Y/N. Even if she was mad at him, he would still hold that soft attitude towards her because he couldn't see himself getting mad at her. She was his beautiful moon. The moon he would look at and worship every time he would look at her. She was his but she didn't know it yet.
: ̗̀➛ Kuai took his role of serving Earthrealm seriously. He took that serious composure everywhere he went, but when he was around Y/N, it was like he could relieve himself and back away from that heavy-weight role. He treated her like a delicate flower, but he didn't take it too far. He was afraid of his feelings being revealed because of his treatment.
: ̗̀➛ Kuai loves to admire Y/N. He loves to admire her skills, her looks, her personality, how she treats others, and how she treats him. He tries to compliment her every chance he gets. Doesn't matter if it's a small one, he just loves to see her smile. That's one of the ways Kuai loves to treat her. He remembers her telling him "Treat others how you would want to be treated."
: ̗̀➛ Kaui would give up his life for his precious girl. But of course, he needed to pull back on those thoughts because she wasn't officially his (YET). The more he hid his feelings, the more it ate him up. And the more it ate him up, the more his feelings got worse. He knew he had to do something about his feelings.
: ̗̀➛ Kuai had no fear of confrontation but for some reason, his body was trying to hold him back from finding Y/N to tell her how he felt. His palms were sweaty and his heart racing when he finally found her;
"Kuai! I was looking for- wait, are you okay?" Y/N asked as she saw how out of place Kuai looked. She got closer to him and realized his face looked flushed. She could even hear his heart pounding like it was about to jump out of his chest.
Kuai's brain couldn't even form the words that needed to be formed. All he could do was stare at her beautiful face that stared back at him with a concerned look all over her face. Kuai hated the fact that he couldn't even form a sentence. He knew he needed to say something and not just stare at her like an idiot.
Kuai took both of Y/N's hands into his and took a deep breath and started spilling his guts. He told her everything that he needed to say about how he felt about her, how much he loved her, and how she made him feel like the only man on earth whenever he was around her. "Y/N, for many years I have had strong feelings of love for you. I admire you in every way. I had hoped that me treating you nicely would give you a hint, but that has failed. I'm sorry for hiding my feelings for a long time, but I am telling you this now in fear that I would have to hide forever." He said to her.
Y/N smiled like she was watching a fireworks show. She gently caressed his cheek, "Oh Kuai Liang, I always dreamed you would tell me this. I hated waiting for you to confess, but I knew that I had to. But the wait was worth it. I have always loved you as you have always loved me."
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Tomas Vrbada
: ̗̀➛ Even though Tomans is a skilled man in kombat who has taken many lives in order to protect Earthrealm, he can't help but feel nervous when he's around a certain woman. That woman being Y/N of course. Y/N has Tomas wrapped around her fingers. Whenever he looks in Y/N's direction, Kuai Liang swears he sees heart eyes forming in Tomas's eyes.
: ̗̀➛ Tomas wanted to be around Y/N every day. She made him feel like a complete man. Y/N was the only person that made Tomas weak in the knees. He truly was in love with her. Not only that, Tomas treated Y/N with lots of kindness that no one had ever shown her before. At least, that's what he hoped, but nevertheless, he wanted to be the only man Y/N looked at.
: ̗̀➛ Tomas gets a lot of anxiety from Y/N, but she's unaware of it. When Tomas becomes overly talkative and fidgety, she occasionally becomes suspicious. Tomas is embarrassed to be around Y/N when he notices that he is occasionally acting quite strangely. Despite Tomas showing Y/N the highest respect and care, he still feels very nervous in her presence.
: ̗̀➛ Tomas likes to do very childish "secretive" things for Y/N. Sometimes he'll leave a couple of flowers lying around her presence, or he'll bring her her favorite meal from Madam Bo's but have Kuai Liang deliver it for him. Whenever Tomas does small adorable things for her, Y/N smiles because it's so obvious that Tomas is doing all of this for her.
: ̗̀➛Tomas is not a master at hiding his feelings. In fact, both of his brothers are aware that his feelings for Y/N run deep, but only one of them supports and encourages him to speak on his feelings. The other always tells him that feelings like those are childish and can interfere with important Lin Kuei business (I bet you tell which is which).
: ̗̀➛ Tomas gathered his confidence on confornting Y/N and telling her how he really felt, until Y/N confronted him first;
"W-Wait, so you're telling me you knew this whole time?" Tomas said with a hint of sadness in his tone. He felt defeated for some reason. He wanted to tell Y/N himself, but his little antics beat him to it.
"Well yeah. You're not that good at leaving secret messages, Tomas. The food, the flowers, all of it. And maybe Kuai Liang might've left a huge hint about your feelings towards me." Y/N couldn't help but giggle at Tomas's reaction when she mentioned his brother spoiling most of the surprise. She slowly walked closer to Tomas and placed both hands on his shoulder and slowly raised them up to the sides of his face, "When I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one for me. No one else, only you."
Tomas gently smiled, "I am content that you share the same feelings." He felt Y/N wrap her arms around his neck, holding him in a loving embrace. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her closer. "I am still upset over the fact that Kuai Liang betrayed my trust, he will pay." He said before slowly pulling away from Y/N embrace.
"Oh come on, even you yourself knew it was obvious." Y/N grabbed his hand and held it. She placed a small kiss on the back of his hand, which made Tomas's heart jump. He finally had the girl he wanted and wasn't ever planning to let her go.
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˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks
This was lowkey trash but ugh
guys i swear I'm gonna write more its just i get so tired easilyyyyyy
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ozzgin · 1 day
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I'm the anon who asked if your requests are open and i got busy assignments + presentations that i almost forgot about the request but now i remembered and it's based on my dream i saw that night..
How about a vampire who lost his relic (presumably a ring) and reader happens find it and tries it on, now the vampire is all panicking because guess what? That was a betrothal relic and it has binded the vampire's soul with the one of reader. They can't pull it out/take it of.. oh well, now they are stuck and obviously the vampire hates the idea of being stuck with a pesky human but hey they are kinda stupid..? How tf they tripped on thin air? Or how they are still alive even after being food poisoned 5 times a month? Vampire is now babysitter for his human *sighs * what has he gotten himself in..
(Please add yandere elements later on, my brain stoopid but i want a hot Victorian era vampire being obsessed with me ^^ muah!)
(I'm sorry this is so lengthy TT)
Yandere! Vampire x Reader
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Featuring a ridiculously lucky Reader who constantly manages to escape a Vampire's assassination attempts. Did someone order a supernatural edition of enemies to lovers?
Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, romcom
[Monster masterlist] [Original works masterlist]
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"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" your friends gasp in unison, eyes fixated on the fallen ceramic pot that scarcely missed you, now laying shattered at your feet. You laugh reassuringly and wave your hand in dismissal. "It's the fifth time it happens today. Maybe there's a storm coming?"
From within the shadows, menacing eyes glowing red follow your movements. "Damn it!" The mysterious man curses under his breath. He stares enviously at the bulky ring on your finger. The ring bearing his Family signet, where part of his very soul resides. It has stayed with him for centuries, and somehow, to his utmost shame, he lost it. By the time he rushed back to retrieve it, you were carelessly sliding it down your finger. He wanted to strangle the life out of you right then and there, but he felt it: the immediate surge of contractual power, dominating his will and holding him back from breaking your bones. "It's a little tacky, isn't it?" your friend remarked. You nodded in agreement and tried to remove it, but the metal band tightened around your skin, painfully constricting your digit. It was stuck. It was too late.
Now he has to rely on cheap trickeries like this one. Sure, he may not be able to directly plunge his fangs into your neck, but the bonding curse does not shield you from "accidents", you see. It would be a real shame if that flower pot was to land straight into your head, ending you instantly and thus breaking the connection with him. Except you simply refuse to die. A mystery, a paradox, one that enrages him to no end. It's almost as if the ring is bringing you fortune at the cost of his misery.
"Have you had any luck removing that ugly thing?" the person standing next to you mentions. The vampire lord grits his teeth at the blasphemous words. This is what's become of him: a deceitful buffoon, having to sit and listen to his inheritance being mocked relentlessly. He holds back the urge of shouting that thousands have bled to death in order to forge that magnificence. "Not at all", you respond idly. "I tried taking it to a jeweler, and she said she could try to cut it, but she ended up having a heart attack right in the middle of it. She didn't even look that old, maybe it runs in her family?"
Unbelievable. The thought of reclaiming his relic haunts every second of his day, to the point he's become your shadow. Stalking your every move, your every breath, observing his prey and waiting for an opportunity to strike. He can already picture that pathetic face of yours, twisting in pain, begging for-...huh. Well, look at that, you're reading one of his favorite books. Perhaps you do have a little taste, after all. It won't save you from your terrible fate, but he might skip the prolonged torture.
There's plenty of quotes out there about knowing your enemy in order to guarantee your victory, though one might wonder where the limit of such knowledge resides. Or what counts as useful to begin with. The vampire lord is presently wondering about this very aspect, as he mouths your coffee order from a distance. Less sugar, huh? You did mention losing your sweet tooth. He shakes his head indignantly. Absolutely not! The throb of his heart is fueled by raw hatred and nothing else. One of days he will savour your demise.
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Your ridiculous luck might just end today. You've taken a shortcut on your way back home, and didn't expect a shady, burly man to block your exit. A perverted grin stains his face as he approaches you, twiddling with his pocket knife. "Alone at this hour?" You frown and try to find a way out, but the man suddenly begins to heave and convulse before your eyes, grasping at his chest as the skin shrivels and dries. He collapses at your feet, body wilted as if it's been emptied of its vitality. The Vampire Lord clicks his tongue.
To think he'd rush to rescue his sworn enemy, a pitiful mortal like you. He didn't even get the chance to consider the aftermath. You stare at the stranger, confused but observant. Pale skin, crimson eyes, unnaturally sharp canines...and the fact he just drained a living being into a bloodless corpse: everything hints to one possibility. "Are you by any chance a vampire?" you find yourself mumbling. "You must've graduated from Harvard with those deduction skills", he responds sarcastically.
Everything else unfolds in a haze. Wasn't he planning to kill you and retrieve his ring? When the hell did he offer to walk you home to avoid more creeps? Why is he twirling his hair sheepishly whenever you praise his demonic powers? Oh, but it gets worse: why did he suddenly feel the urge to kiss you before returning to his cursed lair? Why did he accept your invitation to spend the night at your place instead? One moment ago, he was doing his best to curse you off this Earth. Now he's tugging stray strands of hair away from your blushing, whining face, asking you if it hurts. Damned human.
"How did you know I like this? Have you been stalking me?" you joke, nudging your undead boyfriend and setting the gift aside. "More or less", he confesses with a yawn. He recalls all that time spent dutifully spying on your oblivious self. "You know, a human like you shouldn't be able to dodge death like that." He turns to you and scans your features. Then, abruptly embarrassed, he ruffles your hair to block you from noticing his blush. "I suppose my failure was the better outcome. It's not too bad, having you around."
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klausysworld · 3 months
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Okay so I have this idea where reader has been taking care of hope for 7 years (Hayley is like dead Marcel killed her or smt) and like in the show Marcel has klaus locked away but when the family rescues him they all come to realise that y/n has built like a whole army of werewolves/vampires just to protect hope. Klaus see’s how much she loves hope and he has loved y/n for like 12 years and hope notices this and then hope tells him that y/n has cried herself to sleep ever night because of loosing him and then obviously the rest is up to you.
This idea has been in my head for a while so I do hope you write it and if not thank you for whatever you write next 🥰🥰🥰🥰
And also sorry my description was so bad but I forgot to say smut would be greatly appreciated ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Family
Y/n had grown up alongside Hayley in the foster care system. They were adopted together and thrown out together. They were loyal to one another no matter the consequences and would follow the other to the ends of the earth.
Y/n hadn't batted an eye at the idea of living with the most dangerous family in the world, if Hayley was going then so would she. She showed her devotion to the unborn Mikaelson and quickly gained the attention and respect of the originals.
Elijah appreciated her love and protective characteristics over her family, Hayley and the baby. Rebekah liked that it didn't matter who said what about her, whether they claimed she was a useless human or nothing more than something to eat, she wouldn't back down form a fight. Klaus had originally thought her to be a little foolish with her confidence and need to help but he found that she knew what she was doing, she was persuasive and intelligent.
When the witches first killed Hayley and took the new born baby, Y/n had pushed aside the grief and the pain from Hayleys death. Niklaus and Elijah could see the horror in her eyes but she told them to get up and find the baby, and they did. Thankfully Hayley returned, as a hybrid, and Hope survived.
Y/n was happy for them to compel her to believe Hope was dead but Klaus interjected and said that he didn't believe it to be necessary. That was when Elijah knew that his brother had placed his trust in Y/n.
The Mikaelson brothers watched as Y/n stayed beside Hayley no matter how much she yelled, screamed, cried, killed. Despite Hope not dying, Hayley still felt the pain of loss. It was easy for her to take it out on Y/n, to bring up her past family and to push at all her buttons but Y/n never gave in. She ignored it even when Klaus and Elijah would get involved, sometimes Hayley would have said something particularly hurtful and one of the brothers would intervene, yelling at Hayley to go calm down and offering some sort of comfort to Y/n but she wouldn't accept it.
There was one occasion when Hayley had bitten Y/n, her humanity was almost gone and she had attacked her bestest friend. Klaus had gone ballistic. Elijah had healed Y/n though she insisted it wasn't that bad while Klaus finally managed to scream some sense into Hayley.
Apologies were made and accepted before finally they were all able to go see Hope.
Y/n hadn't ever had a family, even when she was adopted with Hayley they only took Y/n because Hayley wouldn't go without her. So when Rebekah pulled the camera out for a family photo, Y/n made her way inside but Klaus had noticed and went to get her.
A gentle hand was placed on her shoulder to gain her attention as he guided her back to the others and promised her that she was their family now. Rebekah had been ecstatic and pulled Y/n to her side as Klaus held up the camera and they all smiled.
From then onwards Y/n would bond with Hope more and more. Hayley had sat with her and they had agreed that should anything ever happen to Hayley, that Y/n would never leave Hope alone. There was absolutely no convincing needed with this arrangement.
Over the next year witches, wolves and vampires came and went. Y/n stayed with the Mikaelsons and befriended the wolves, Jackson especially as he was to marry her adopted sister. She stood beside Klaus at the wedding, holding Hope and watching as the baby's eyes glowed gold in unison. Klaus was just looking at Y/n, listening as Hayley and Jackson recited their vows and imagined those words of love coming from his own lips.
After, Y/n went down to celebrate and Klaus managed to get a dance with her after Elijah finally pushed him to. Something about the other just felt right. It brought a warmth that only held safety and admiration. Like home.
Y/n began to see Klaus as home. When Hayley spent so many nights in the bayou, it was Klaus that she spent her time with and Klaus who always came to seek her out. Often he would use Hope as an excuse to be around her, Hope loved Y/n very much and was always eager to see her. Klaus was even more eager to take her.
But then Lucien arrived, along with Tristan and Aurora. They ruined everything.
Y/n became a vampire, Finn was killed once again and the Mikaleons were faced with peril.
Everything happened within the blink of an eye. Rebekah was hexed and the brothers bitten and Freya poisoned. Klaus was locked away for his violent acts and the others were linked to his life and hidden away in their coffins. And then Hayley, she had gone to Marcel angry and threatening and never returned.
That left Y/n with Hope and a truck full of almost-dead Mikaelsons. She was lost for the first year with Hope. She had lost everything. Everyone.
But when Hope would wrap her little arms around her and whimper for Y/n to not be sad, she knew that she needed to pull through.
It took a lot of effort. Y/n used Marcels tactics and started turning her own vampires, earning their trust and their devotion. She offered them a new life, she sold vampirism well and convinced dozens that this was the way for them. She began to train them, she began to trust them.
There was an inner circle that knew her well and were allowed to see Hope and go inside the house to protect her and the others had a fair amount of freedom however if they wanted daylight rings then they would have to help find the ingredients to heal the Mikaelsons.
It took far longer than she would have liked, 5 years but she did it. And one by one, Freya, Kol, Elijah and Rebekah were awake and healed. It didn't take long for them to come to understand the lengths to which Y/n had gone through.
They learnt of Hayleys death and they watched as vampires came to Y/n with updates on Klaus's position. A couple of her vampires had gone undercover into Marcels territory to get an idea of Klaus's situation. It was because of this that the other Mikaelsons were able to get in easier while Y/n went to her home to see Hope now that she was back form school.
Hope saw Y/n as her mother. Of course she knew everything about Hayley, Y/n old her countless stories and made sure that Hope knew that Hayley was her mother but Hope didn't truly remember Hayley the way Y/n had thought she would. To Hope, Y/n had always looked after her and loved her so often she would call Y/n her mommy or her ma without meaning to and Y/n could never respond, unsure as to whether she was doing something wrong by being Hopes mother. But she also couldn't deny Hope and so wouldn't upset her little girl by telling her that she wasn't allowed to call her that.
So she sat down with Hope when they were having their dinner and told her that their family was coming back in the early hours of the morning. Y/n had made sure to tell Hope stories of each of the Mikaelsons and showed various pictures, Klaus especially was mentioned. "That's your Dad remember?" Y/n would whisper when they snuggled up on Hopes bed and flicked through the photos.
Sometimes Y/n would sleep beside Hope or the other way around. Hope knew that Y/n didn't sleep much, she worried so much and became sad when Hope wasn't with her. Many times Hope had asked if Y/n loved her Dad and every time Y/n would nod "He means very much to me" she would tell her and Hope would smile and hold Y/n's hand.
"He'll come back soon Mommy, don't worry" she would whisper and Y/n would sniff and nod, pulled Hope close and closing her eyes.
When Hope was told that he father was finally coming home, she was excited for both herself and for Y/n. It took hours for her to get to sleep and Y/n had to take her back to bed nearly 10 times before she stayed in bed.
It was deep into the night when the door knocked, Y/n had fallen asleep against with her head against the kitchen table but thankfully had given Freya a key before they left for Klaus. They all made their way inside and softened at the sigh of Y/n passed out with her phone infront of her. Klaus was battered and weak but made his way over to her and knelt down to the floor so that he could pull her down to his embrace. She woke as she was taken from her seat and found herself in his hold. Tears streamed within seconds and she wrapped herself within him until little footsteps were heard and everyone's attention was on the doorway.
Y/n got up quickly, pulling away from Klaus who stared at the doorway with a level of fear. He didn't want his daughter to see him for the first time while he was dirty, bloody and broken.
"Mommy?" The sleepy voiced called, Hope had just come into sight while rubbing her eyes when Y/n quickly picked her up. They all listened as she gently hushed Hope and took her back to bed.
"What's wrong baby?" She asked softly, while tucking Hope into bed. She kissed her head and slipped Hope's wolf teddy under her arm.
"Are they here yet?" Hope whispered and Y/n hesitated. She knew Hope wouldn't sleep if she knew they were there and she knew that the Mikaelsons needed a moment to recover.
"Soon" She told Hope. "They'll be here when you wake in the morning I promise." She murmured and she stroked her face and Hope whispered goodnight.
Y/n came back down and spoke quietly.
"There's enough beds upstairs each of you, you might have to share a room for the night but it's better than a coffin. There's two showers, wait fifteen minutes so Hope goes to sleep before turning them on otherwise the noise will wake her up. We'll sort everything in the morning." She muttered, somehow a hardened exterior was around her now and they all picked up on it. She spoke to them now in an almost professional manner, like she didn't know them. As they all made their way up the stairs and watched as she checked on Hope, closed her door and made her way to her own room, they wondered how hard the past five years had been for her.
The next morning they woke to a stack of blood beside each of them bar Freya who had a cup of coffee waiting. They drank before getting dressed and heading downstairs.
Y/n and Hope were both already there, sprawled out on the sofas and eating from a bowl of berries while watching the TV. Kol was the first to clear his throat making Hope's head shoot up. Her confidence diminished quickly and she was hiding behind Y/n as she got up.
Y/n pointed to the fridge and cupboards, "If you're hungry you can find everything there, I've set up phones for you all so they're on the table. Theres a couple guys outside but they're just here to make sure nobody else is so you can check the garden if you need. Cars are coming in the afternoon to relocate now that you're awake and we have an interview with a school for Hope tomorrow morning so we need to get a full nights sleep and leave by 4pm latest this afternoon." She told them while lifting Hope from the sofa and placing her by the backdoor. "Paints are outside" she whispered to Hope who nodded and ran out to her art table in the garden.
The Mikaelsons each took their new phone and grabbed something to eat before sitting down while Klaus went to the window to watch his daughter from afar. Y/n went back to the kitchen and started washing plates when Elijah came beside her and placed a hand on her back.
"You know that you are our family Y/n" he whispered to her, concerned that she may think otherwise, "even with Hayley gone" he added faintly and she nodded. "I understand you've taken the role as Hopes mother-"
"I haven't. Hayley's her mom, Hope knows that she just slips up" She snapped back and Elijah frowned at the aggression.
"I didn't mean it as a negative thing." He replied softly, "Hayley would love that you are so close to Hope, she had told me all those years ago that you were as much Hopes mother as she was. You have always been her mother, none of us would take that from you."
Y/n sniffled at the thought of Hayley's permission almost and Elijah brought her into his embrace. He had been taking care of his family for centuries, he had the best understanding of what she was going through and he never wanted her to think that they would take Hope away from her just because Hayley was gone.
Meanwhile, Klaus had plucked the courage to go outside and sit with his daughter. He painted alongside her in a comfortable silence while nature danced around them until Y/n came outside and called for lunch. The scene made Klaus think of a movie or a sweet story and Hope smiled and jumped from her seat and tugged Klaus inside for food. He chuckled and followed, obediently sitting beside his little girl while Y/n went on the other side of her. Elijah and Y/n had prepared a simple but homey pasta dish to fill everyone before they needed to leave.
It was during lunch that Hope took notice of how her father glanced and gazed at her mother figure. Part of her was happy for them that they had found their way back and she could have that picture perfect family she had dreamed of for years but the other part of her pushed that idea away. She feared that perfect reality and quickly became upset with the thought of it all.
Y/n could see Hope stressing and took her outside to talk to her. Rebekah tried to comfort Klaus as he sat in a pained silence with the thought that his daughter didn't like him enough.
They didn't speak of it as they divided up into cars and drove to another state, to a suburban area where they had their own homes and new starts. Rebekah was excited, Freya was apprehensive, Kol decided to go his own way but to keep in touch, Elijah was willing to go wherever was seen as safest and Klaus would follow Hope and Y/n wherever they may go.
When Y/n handed him the keys to his own house he frowned, he didn't want to be by himself. He never had. Y/n had asked Hope if she would want to stay primarily at her dads but she wasn't so sure as she didn't really know him anymore.
The separate house arrangement lasted no longer than a week before Klaus was insisting they get a big house they could all stay in. Freya and Rebekah got a smaller house together, Elijah got himself an apartment close by but a little further out and Klaus moved in with Y/n and Hope after getting upset and Y/n understanding his needs.
He had his own room but he never wanted to be in it. He wanted to be in Y/n's, he wanted her and she wouldn't let him. Hope slowly got used to the idea but Y/n pulled away from it despite the ache in her heart that called for him.
Klaus soon believed that she truly didn't feel anything more than that friendship/family bond that she had with his siblings but Hope made sure he knew the truth one night when they were watching a movie and Y/n was out sorting out some vampires that apparently worked for her with both confused and impressed the Mikaelsons.
"I know you love my mom" She told him as they both kept their eyes on the TV, not daring to look at the other as this particular topic arose. Klaus cleared his throat and smacked his lips together but she didn't give him a chance to respond. "She told me she loves you too. Lots of times actually" she quipped and Klaus stared at the screen intensley. "But she won't tell you because she doesn't want to make it weird or make a mistake" she told him.
"She thinks it would be a mistake?" He asked, mentally cursing himself for the childish behaviour he was giving into.
"No...I don't know...She just loves you a lot and she'd be sad again if it didn’t work and I don’t want her to be sad again…” she trailed and Klaus glanced to her.
“Again?” He whispered, wondering if she had been with another man in the years they were apart and it hadn’t worked.
“She used to cry a lot” Hope mumbled, feeling guilty for telling Klaus about it. “Sometimes she would cry in her sleep too” she added and Klaus frowned, wrapping an arm around Hope and pulling her into a hug as she got upset. “She missed you” she whimpered and Klaus nodded, kissing Hopes head and wiping the tears from under her eyes. “She needs you” she told him on a small, strained voice.
Klaus rubbed her back and stroked her hair while Hope cried and let out all her worries for her mother and all the times she had seen her distraught. Klaus told her how he should have been there for them and promised that he would never leave them alone, never let them suffer again.
They ended the night on a lighter note, managed to pull a few laughs and smiled form each to her before Klaus tucked Hope into bed and found her wolf teddy for her. He then sat and told her of how one day she would get to be a wolf if she wanted and would be able to run freely, he told her how he felt when he was in his wolf form and how much he knew she would love it.
Once she fell asleep he went to his room and waited for the sound of the front door to clothes and footsteps up the floor before he came out. He stepped out from his doorway in only a pair of sleep pants, his eyes landed on Y/n and his brows rose. Her face was splattered with dried blood and her hands covered in it. She looked back at him but didn’t utter a word, just went straight for the bathroom.
Klaus followed her quickly and closed the door behind them so that Hope wouldn’t see Y/n looking so dishevelled.
“What happened?” He whispered as she tried to shimmy out of her clothes without touching anything else. He leaned over and clicked the shower on.
“It’s nothing” she mumbled, peeling her shirt from her skin leaving her in just her bra and panties as her jeans lay in a puddle on the floor. Klaus frowned and his hand cupped her face but she pushed it away. “Go away I need to shower” she muttered as she unhooked her bra and he sighed before walking out and staring at the bathroom door as she scrubbed the blood away.
He waited for her to come back out before pestering her again. Demanding to know where she was, what she was doing, who she was doing it to or with. Eventually she snapped and told him it was for Hope. She told him that people had been trying to kill her or take her all of the time, no matter how many spells were on her to protect her. So she had to get rid of the few people who knew their location and also make new vampires near where they were to ensure security.
Klaus didn’t know how to feel.
Before, she was strong headed but she had never been a killer. She did what she had to but she was still emotional and compassionate. He blamed himself, he wanted her to be a Mikaelson and she had become one. She acted like one, she loved like one, she was one.
“I can do that for you, for Hope” he told her gently and she couldn’t help the scoff that left her making him sigh. “Love, we’re here now, it isn’t your job to fight anymore” he argued and she glared at him.
“It was never my job.” She bit, “I did it because I wanted to. I do it because I want to. Hope is safe because of me, you are all safe because of me and I will keep it that way because even after a thousand years you lot still wind up dead time and time again!” She sneered, her vampiric features displaying across her face as her anger rose.
Klaus stared at her as she glared at him, she was mad and he knew that. She had been saving her rage for five years. She was mad that they left her alone, she was mad they let Hayley die not once but twice. She was mad that they hadn’t listened to her all those years ago, she was mad she became a vampire because of them. She was mad that she had never been given an easy option since the day she met them. She was mad and she needed to express it and if there was something Klaus was good at, it was expressing his rage.
So he pushed her, hard. Y/n stumbled back and felt herself tik. She flew back at him roughly, causing him to hit straight back against the wall with a wince before going back to her and shoving her. He only put his hands on her a couple more times before her hands were swinging and her nails clawed at him. He whispered for her to keep going, to get it out as she cried and hit at him. She told him all the things she hated about him and his family. All the things he had put her through and all the struggle she had with Hope. Having to look after a Mikaelson witch with werewolf anger and vampire strength was not something anyone was equipped for but Y/n, a newly turned vampire was certainly not.
Eventually she was too exhausted to keep going. Klaus was on the floor, propped up against the door with his bloodied arm around her shoulders as she curled against him and sobbed. His face and body slowly healed, as he panted for air and rest his head against hers.
After a while she calmed down and realised how much she had hurt him and started crying for the pain she had caused. Klaus told her he had wanted her to so it was okay but she hated herself for it either way. They ended up back in the bathroom, taking separate showers again before heading back out and being in a better mood. They kissed each other on the cheek goodnight and went to bed.
The next morning Y/n was lighter on her feet, she already seemed more relaxed and settled. Less on edge wondering when she would explode with anger. Hope gave Klaus a weird look and asked if they finally admitted they loved each other but he shook his head and she shrugged. Y/n was happy so Hope was happy.
Klaus and Y/n took Hope to her school before going back home and digging up the garden to start planting herbs and flowers. Some had magical properties and some didn’t. Klaus handled the vervain and Y/n handled the wolvesbane before they went inside and started making lunch only for them to get bored and decide to go out instead.
They went down to a small cafe and just ended up having sandwiches and cake anyway but at were happy that they didn’t have to make it themselves.
After they headed back home they cleaned up the house and discussed Hopes upcoming birthday. Y/n told him about her past birthdays and presents and showed him pictures from the last few years.
Weeks went by, Klaus and Y/n became the power parents they had both hoped they would be and Hope finally had the family she wanted.
Hope however started to get annoyed. She just needed them to give in and be together. So she started making hints. But apparently they weren’t strong enough so she went with being direct.
“Would you two just kiss already? Stop staring at each other!” She yelled from the kitchen, knowing they were glancing to one another while the film played in the background. Y/n blushed pink and Klaus cleared his throat, getting up and grabbing Hope. He spun her around and tickled her sides, whispering for her to shut her mouth while she squirmed and giggled.
It happened on many occasions that Hope would just tell them to get on with it. Klaus would watch for Y/n’s reaction waiting for her to give him the okay.
It was late one night when she finally did. It was just them downstairs, Hope was over at a friend’s house for a sleepover so just the two of them were watching usual Saturday night television. They were cuddled up with a blanket around them when Y/n leaned her head back and gave him a look. His brows briefly furrowed as he tried to decipher it before a tense silence overcame them. Both daring the other to do it.
Klaus caved first, leaning down and pressing his mouth to hers. Their lips moved in unison and Y/n’s hands went to his hair, tugging him onto her. The soft, wet sounds of their mouths filled the small amount of air between them as he pushed her down against the sofa and slid his hands under her thighs, hiking her legs up and round his waist.
Y/n stroked her hands round his face, her fingers memorising every detail of his face. Her thumbs brushed over his ears and down his neck while her tongue wrapped around his. Klaus slid his hands up and under her shirt, gliding along her skin to her bra. His fingers teased the lace making her pull her mouth from his and tug her shirt over her head.
Klaus kissed her lips again softly before pressing his own to her chest. Her hand cupped the back of his head, her eyes following his lips as they kissed and sucked down the valley between her breasts slowly. His other hand slid beneath her to unhook her bra and pull it off her arms.
She breathed heavily, looking up at him with lustrous eyes.
“You look so gorgeous” he murmured as he lowered his head to wrap his lips round one of her nipples. Y/n moaned softly as it pebbled against his tongue and her back arched to push her breasts against his face. He groaned softly and squeezed them both in his hands while his mouth teased them both interchangeably.
Y/n moaned his name and lifted his Henley over his head and slid her hands down his chest while his fingers picked at the button on her jeans. She helped drag them off her legs and quickly got her hands onto his. He kicked his own off and pressed himself back against her.
Their mouths were back against each other in a heated frenzy and his erection pressed against his boxers and then against her panties. She moaned against him and thrust her hips up to feel him. Klaus moved his lips down to her jaw and nipped at the skin while his hand made its way down to her stomach.
"Klaus" she whispered breathlessly as she pulled her lips off his and looked down to where his fingers brushed along the soft material of her underwear.
"Please" he uttered. It was an unexpected word for him to say but it made her eyes shimmer as she looked up at him. He leaned down to kiss her once again and she allowed herself to melt into it as he slowly dragged her panties down and off her legs. His hands brushed back up her thighs and she didn't resist when he guided them open and flat against the bed.
Klaus gently stroked his fingers along her pussy lips. Klaus groaned softly as they slid through her wetness and found her clit. Y/n let out a small gasp and pulled her head back, Klaus looked down at her as the back of her head pressed against the couch. Their eyes locked as the pad of his finger rubbed little circles against her clit. He watched in lust and fascination as her breathing escalated and her eyes watered while she tried to keep them open and focused on him.
"I missed you so much" he admitted quietly while pushing a finger into her entrance. Y/n let out a sweet cry that made the desire within him swirl and spike. His finger curled inside her perfectly, his thumb continued to pet her bundle of nerves until her body couldn't help but grind against his hand and his lips pressed a row of kisses along her throat.
"Klaus" she repeated with a moan and he smiled against her skin.
"I thought of you every day" he whispered as another finger began to thrust inside her with each precise flick of his wrist.
"You did?" she whimpered, her heart swelling with love and bashfulness. He nodded with a soft look in his eyes and pumped his fingers deeper into her until the breath was taken from her lungs.
"You were always right there in my mind. You brought me peace" he told her and she moaned weakly. Her hands squeezes at the sheets below her as her eyes shut. Klaus's fingers thrust and curled beautifully to meet the sensitive point that made her toes curl and her pussy clench tightly. "You saved me from myself" he whispered as his lips trailed down the front of her body again, a little quicker this time. His thumb brushed over her clit before his tongue replaced it.
Y/n's body arched in delight and her legs quivered as the soft heat of his mouth caressed her cunt. His tongue swirled around her sensitive bud as his fingers picked up the pace. His eyes closed as the addictive taste of her soaked onto his tongue. Her body arched and tensed with each flick of his tongue and a cry of desperation bounced off the walls as her orgasm pulsed through her. Klaus groaned softly as her pussy quivered and weeped around his fingers. He carefully, gently pulled his fingers out from her and used his mouth to clean her up.
He kissed his way back up her body to her lips and kissed her deeply, swallowing her weak moans of satisfaction and caressing his hands up along her skin. Y/n's hands brushed through his curls gently making them fluff up. Klaus pulled back and looked down at her with a genuine smile and let out a small chuckle when he felt his hair frizz.
She gazed back at him almost shyly. She had wanted him to touch her like that for so long. Too many years of longing. Raising Hope had taken away from any social life she could have had the past five years but even if Hope hadn't been a priority, Y/n only thought of Klaus like that. She could't believe that he had seen her so bare and vulnerable after all those years, touched and tasted her like she dreamed he would.
Klaus could see the thoughts dancing through her mind and slowly stroked her hair as he let her daze float over her. He pulled her to his body, wrapping her in his arm and laying with her for a bit. This was something he didn't want to push or rush. He just wanted to soak this up and be with her forever.
Y/n lay on top his body as they rest against the couch. A blanket draped over them while their eyes watched the screen before them. They were both nearly asleep but neither wanted to move so they stayed there the whole night.
By morning they were back up and getting ready to get Hope from her friends. Hope's eyes narrowed on them as soon as she got in the car, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she saw their entwined hands while they drove home.
When she got home she gave her mother a smile before offering a discreet thumbs up to her dad which made him chuckle and shake his head as she starting making kissey faces and running up the stairs giggling.
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justporo · 8 months
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Even more fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav
Listen guys, I'm not done yet. For now, as soon as I get one idea out, three more pop up in my mind and since you guys seem to really like these (it's seriously and positively insane to me), I'll happily provide you more as long as I am able to. So, let's-a go: more headcanons and little ideas about them being together!
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(I formerly used an reuploaded and stolen version of this gif here - I didn't check where it came from and that wasn't right - I'm sorry!)
You love when Astarion smiles at you - just openly and full of joy; the sort of smile you've rarely seen from him during your adventures but they keep getting more and more, also they make him look just so young and carefree and beautiful and your heart just... melts
When Astarion quickly notices how you basically faint whenever he does this, he starts employing it to work his charms on you when he needs it - not the real big and joyous smiles though because they are so real and cherished to him he wouldn't dare use it to tease or manipulate you - they're only reserved to make you happy
Charming you is like breathing to Astarion though, you are just so helpless against his flattery and flirting because why would you resist if you could just give him everything that makes him happy?
When you mention once though that you'd hope to gain some immunity to it some time, Astarion is insulted: "No, love, making you blush is my favourite thing in the world. You are so beautiful with your cheeks all flushed. As long as I have a say in it, we will never stop!"
Tav likes teasing him just as much as Astarion enjoys it the other the way around: "You know if you would stop drawing your brows together all the time, it'd take fifty years off your face immediately." Moments of silence in which Astarion is just utterly shocked by your burn, then: "Who taught you to be this brutal, darling?" You raise an eyebrow at him, he helplessly lifts his arms: "Yeah right, I have only myself to blame."
Also, Astarion and Tav are definitely the kind of power couple that throw each other meaningful sassy looks when they're with other people and those are talking shit or something
Also, afterwards they will most definitely discuss and gossip over everything they experienced
Astarion is definitely the kind of man that would shower Tav with gifts, from coming home with a single beautiful flower that "reminded me of you, my beautiful blossom" ("How cheesy..." "Ah, so rather a gouda next time?") or a nice bottle of wine to share to bigger gestures like jewelry or expensive dresses ("When am I ever gonna wear this, Astarion?" "I don't know, we'll just make an opportunity!")
Tav loves all of his gifts but probably the small ones or the hand-crafted ones the most, she's happy with the little things but Astarion insists she deserves the big ones just as much
One time though, Astarion comes home with something else entirely; it's pouring outside and he's completely drenched and hiding something in his doublet jacket; "What do you have there, Astarion, a wheel of cheese?" Astarion carefully opens up his jacket to reveal a small white kitten that is just as drenched as him and is desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest. "I found her all alone in a dark alleyway, cold and completely soaked, I thought maybe we could take care of her and she could be friends with Scratch?", he says while he carefully lifts up the small ball of fluff with an incredible softness in his eyes. Your heart is thoroughly melting as you walk over to them and you give Astarion the most loving of kisses
Well, the last one would almost be a drabble on it's own, I saw a similar post that made me think of this (I will find and tag them later!) Hope you enjoyed and I'm late for work now, whoops...
This is the post I mentioned before, by @mushy6902 (I hope it's okay I wrote a somewhat similar idea, thanks for inspiring me!)
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fangswbenefits · 3 months
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The Arrangement (14) - Trance
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Chapter summary: Astarion wishes he coukd freeze this moment in time, but fate has a way of interfering.
Pairing: Astation x female!Tav
Warnings: Astarion's POV. Mentions of trauma.
Word count: 2.6k
Series Masterlist . Ao3
Vampirism had warped his bodily need to trance. 
The tadpole had meddled with it even further and he barely found the need for it all, but there was some semblance. Now, it was back to what it used to be.
He had no actual need for it, but he had come to realise it was the only way to be with you without facing the prison his mind had become. It allowed him to bypass how it held back his body.
In his trance-induced dreams, he was finally free.
Whatever freedom meant to him, he was sure you were involved somehow.
Even if only bound to a dream and nothing more. 
After all, you had made it perfectly clear that a friendship was all you could offer.
He had made peace with that.
For the most part.
He still had these moments of wanting to slip into his subconscious and lose himself in you.
The mattress underneath his body was comfortable enough and the raindrops outside that thumped against the window, presented themselves as more than enough to lull him into the beginnings of a trance.
He let go of his weight.
He blacked out everything around him in the hopes he'd find you.
Your chirpy laughter was what he heard first. Unknowingly, a faint smile tugged gently at his lips. He could easily get lost in the warmth of your voice.
He was getting deep enough that your voice now had a corporeal form, too.
Your kind face took over each corner of his mind until all of him was you.
Astarion could barely withstand trancing unless he could conjure you this way.
You were the calm in a restless sea that kept on drowning him.
In his mind, he could find himself being with you with nothing holding him back.
It was freeing and soothing.
It was an illusion, and in the back of his head, he almost felt it slip away as awareness threatened to overtake. 
He frowned.
Your voice faded and your pleasant face held a grave expression. It was as if you could tell something was wrong.
And you'd be right.
There was something wrong with his trance.
As frustration began to dissolve the image of you, he let out a low growl of annoyance as his eyes snapped open.
And he immediately understood why it felt off.
Ava was standing near the edge of his bed, holding a sweet smile that he had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks.
“You were reaching for her again, weren't you?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It's the only way I can these days.”
She lowered herself to sit, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. “You know that isn't true.”
“Ava, I don't wish to be lectured,” he said, more harshly than intended.
She nodded and said nothing else.
There was nothing more to be said. She had tried to make him see that he was the only one standing in between himself and you. 
He had heard it all before and he was sick of it.
It wasn't as easy as snapping his fingers, because a large part of him didn't want your friendship.
He could find friends. In fact, he didn't even know if he needed friends. 
Your friendship wasn't enough, but he had no right to demand more when he was struggling this hard with his mind.
Could he even offer more? Did he even deserve more?
“Do you wish me to leave?” Ava's voice snapped him from his thoughts. “I can, but maybe a piece of advice is in order.”
His frown eased and he nodded. 
“I would urge you to stop seeking her in your mind. She's out there. You two have been seeing each other to honour your arrangement.” She paused briefly, studying his reaction. “I can lay here with you and help with your intimacy, but I'm not the one you seek.”
Silence.
“The chance you seek is within you and I believe she can help in more ways than one.”
He scoffed. “I can't ask that of her. This is not something she has to concern herself with.”
Ava leaned against the headboard with a sigh. “Lovers help each other through the toughest of times.”
The word ignited a visceral reaction inside him at once.
“We're not lovers!”
Ava didn't even flinch at his snarl. “But you could be.”
Ava was terribly skilled at worming her way under his skin. He didn't regret having gotten closer to her even if merely as an exchange of sorts.
“Leave.”
The word spilled from his lips like poison and he knew he wasn't being fair, but he couldn't stand talking about you.
Not with her.
You would be utterly disappointed that he was giving out his blood like this.
He was beginning to dread any talks of you with her.
Mostly because Ava didn't know you and no string of words he might voice would ever do you justice.
You had saved him from himself. You had trusted him when no one else would. You had been his first and he had been yours. 
How could he possibly put into words how much you meant to him? 
“Astarion, jus-”
He had made up his mind. “Leave. I don't need love advice from anyone – least of all you.”
It was harsh. 
And it was enough to cause her eyes to widen in unmistakable displeasure. 
“That was uncalled for.”
She rose to her feet and walked out of the room without sparing another glance in his direction, the door closing loudly behind her.
In a way, he was thankful she didn't. He knew he'd find hurt in her face and he could do without the reminder of how snarky he could be.
For all intents and purposes, Ava had been the sole constant in his life and he might even consider her a… friend.
He had made some progress along the way.
Touching you as he fed didn't feel suffocating. He could even bear your touch as you held on to him for support.
He would need to feed soon.
Your blood was more filling than anything he could hunt out there, but the set schedule wasn't enough.
He pushed himself to sit, face buried in his hands.
You were already giving him more than he could ever repay. Again.
But he still found in himself the unshakable desire for more.
More. More. More.
This was the nature of his bond with you.
No in-betweens. No half measures.
With you, it was all or nothing.
And his vampiric nature always found ways to creep into his mind. 
Blood.
“Astarion?”
He was rooted to the garden bench, your eyes on him.
Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. “Yes?”
Uncertainty covered your face and he immediately realised you feared he had spaced out too far for her reach.
“Oh, I apologise, dear,” he said, putting on his best mask. “I suppose I wasn't expecting this revelation.”
But even such a practised facade was no longer enough to keep you convinced.
You knew him too well.
Slowly, you came to sit by his side again. “I'm sorry, Astarion.”
That immediately gnawed at his nerves. “Whatever for?”
“I know you were fond of Ava, and it's never easy to realise that someone we might have placed our trust in once can be capable of such things.”
Your logic wasn't flawed per se, but it didn't quite cover what he was now feeling.
“You think I'm upset because I care for her?”
“You don't?”
He tensed up. “My relationship with her felt necessary. It was built out of mutual need.”
At this, your features hardened. “Like ours when we first met?”
“It could never be like ours.”
He tried his best to hide the offence he had taken from your words, but, once again, you were able to read right through him.
“Didn't you see her as a friend?”
Quite frankly… “No.”
“Then why do you seem so shaken?”
Astarion should have known better than to give in to his impulsiveness, as it rarely did him any favours.
Yet…
“Why? Why do you think?” he said through gritted teeth. “I feel ashamed! More so because it was my recklessness that could have potentially been the cause of all of this.” 
You looked alarmed, but took your time to word out an answer. “Astarion, you couldn't have known. If this is actually true, then she played you.”
He scoffed, avoiding your piercing eyes. “Ironic, isn't it? I used to be so good at reading people and…” His voice faltered momentarily. “... and now I realise how much of a fool I am.”
Your hand met his cheek and you slowly turned his head until your eyes found his again. “You're not a fool for trusting people. You didn’t trust me at first, remember? It was all about survival.”
Astarion was sure that if his heart still pulsed, it would have shattered.
“I trusted you and you trusted me.”
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “You are far too trusting.”
You smiled warmly and his defences immediately crumbled. “And you hardly trust anyone. Still, we met halfway, didn't we? Through pain and blood and gore and with all the odds against us, we found a way.”
Astarion realised for the nth time in that moment that he adored you.
He didn't think he had it in him to break the flow of this moment and say it out loud, but he did.
Trust was never on the table with him. He had built his undeath around using and abusing the trust others placed on him, only to bring them to their demise. Therefore, he never expected the same grace to be extended to him. He was unworthy, wasn't he?
Until you came along and shifted his world on its axis, showing him that there was still good out there reserved even for those deemed monsters.
Your hand dropped from his face, but your caring smile only deepened.
“I will not think any less of you if my suspicions are confirmed.”
It would be so easy to just accept your words, but he still hesitated. “Maybe you should. I roped you and others over something driven by selfishness.”
And now you were visibly angry.
“Astarion. Stop it – please. You told me about the spawn in the Underdark, too. A selfish person wouldn't even factor them in.”
He grimaced. “Be it as it may. It didn't start out like that. I thought of only myself when I made the deal with Ava. My blood for a possible cure to my hunger.”
“Does it matter how it started? Does it, really? You're not the person you used to be. You're not driven by the same survival instinct and selfishness.”
“Because of you.” he blurted out.
Did this version of himself even exist without you? If it hadn't been for you, he would have ascended. He would have sacrificed thousands of souls and reach
A part of him still lingered on the ‘what if’ of it all. Deep down, he knew that refusing to partake in the ritual had been the right choice for him. For everyone. 
But he still wondered… what if.
“What of the ritual, then? I was so blinded by greed and power that I would have caved in if not for you.”
Weak.
Pathetic.
Broken.
You seemed slightly taken aback before offering a reassuring smile. “You're so wrong, Astarion. I merely reminded you of who you already were. You saved yourself.”
He was stunned silent for a moment.
You were being genuine and it was clear you meant every single word.
“I've told you this before, but I'm proud of you,” you said, reaching for his hand and he nearly hissed from the sudden shift in temperature. You were always so warm… even on a cool night. “I hope you are, too.”
He wasn't. He truly wasn't, but he would lie for you.
His voice would give him away, so he merely nodded, earning a tender squeeze from you.
“Maybe we ought to go and meet Wyll now.”
He hesitated as you tugged his hand, not moving an inch.
In truth, he'd rather stay here with you and savour this moment. He was excruciatingly exhausted from the emotional turmoil the past days had brought on. 
“The sooner we go, the better,” you reminded him.
Astarion looked up at the night sky until his gaze found the horizon line, hues of soft pink and orange swirling in the distance.
Dawn was about to break.
The sun couldn't be kept from rising just as he couldn't keep himself from you.
“We'll figure this out, Astarion. Together.”
You gave his hand another squeeze and shifted in his seat, fully facing you.
For a moment, he considered kissing you. He thought it would be fitting. He could allow his body to convey what words would always fail to do so.
But his body was at the mercy of his mind.
So you spoke first, “May I hug you?”
It was a simple enough request, yet he appreciated you asking beforehand.
“Of course, darling.”
You leaned into him, engulfing his body within the warmth of yours. He lowered his chin to rest on your shoulder and you mimicked him, clearly doing your best to read his body language.
He was tense at first, mostly due to the unwavering fear that his mind might play a trick on him. 
But he found himself slowly but surely easing into you, welcoming your touch. He could hear your pulse quicken alongside your neck and his stomach lurched in response. His most basic instincts being put to the test.
A wave of revulsion washed down in a frail attempt at keeping his hunger for your blood at bay.
Eventually, he was able to have it subside into the back of his mind, like an ever-watchful fiend, waiting for him to give permission.
But he had sworn off feeding on you again. At least, for the time being. As painful as it was – and borderline unnatural for a vampire – he had to resist this. 
The act itself was too tainted for now, and the wildlife around Baldur's Gate would have to suffice.
He wished he could freeze this moment in time and have everything else be background noise.
And when you finally pulled back from the embrace, he saw tears streaming down your face, causing him to stir in alert.
“What did I do?”
You shook your head, your face too close. “Nothing. You're just…”
It was time to lighten the mood and that was a skill he indulged like no other.
“Ridiculously handsome?”
You chuckled, your breath fanning his lips. “Incredibly so. But…”
He cradled your face in his hands, thumb brushing against the softness of your cheek, as he waited for you to continue.
You shivered under his touch.
Was it from the cold?
Or was it something else?
You were close. Too close. 
He could feel your every breath on his face and this ever-growing pull was now enveloping him.
Oh, how he wanted to kiss you.
Make you his and his alone.
“What is it, love?”
The word had left his lips before he could register how he was almost… panting.
Your hands came to grip his arms and he found himself leaning into you again.
“Astarion… I…”
He arched a brow, suddenly aware that something was amiss.
Something was terribly wrong.
Your eyes were glassy and your skin had grown cold, mouth agape and face void of any tangible expression.
Suddenly, you went limp in his arms but not before letting out a piercing pained shriek that tore through the night air and through him like the sharpest of knives. Your pulse was weak, but he could still feel your heart fighting through
Amongst the shock and panic, he spotted movement in the corner of his eye.
A hooded figure was standing still by the fence and he immediately knew who it was.
“Hello, Astarion.”
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TBC
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"Hello." A dull thwack sound reverberated across the rooftop, leaving the boy who snuck up on Red Robin clutching his head. The boy, a meta if the large animal ears and tail were anything to go by, shook off the pain and pouted up at him, "What was that for?!"
The vigilante was unrepentant, holding his bo staff in a ready position, "You snuck up behind a vigilante at night. In Gotham."
"Okay," the meta conceded, still pouting. "You have a point there. Robin threw ninja stars at me when I tried to approach Batman."
That got Tims attention, "You tried to approach Batman? Was there something you needed?"
The kid suddenly got serious, "My mom went missing. I haven't been able to contact her for almost two weeks now."
Red pulled his arm closer to his face before he began typing on his wrist computer, "Can you tell me her name and date of birth?"
"Um." The other teen fidgetted with his tail a bit, "Okay, so...she's kinda Cheetah."
"...come again?"
"She's Cheetah. The...the supervillian."
Red Robin stared at him, and honestly who could blame him? The bats hadn't even known Cheetah had a son. "So why are you in Gotham? Why not ask Wonder Woman for help? Cheetahs one of her rogues not ours."
The teen shook his head, "She went to meet someone in Gotham before she disappeared. She seemed really agitated before she left, almost scared. I've never seen her like that before." He paused, giving the vigilante time to type before continuing, "I didn't go Wonder Woman since I figured I would wind up needing to talk to a bat anyway since its your turf and all." He said, waving a hand as if gesturing to the city around them.
"I wasn't aware Cheetah had a kid."
The meta grimaced, "she didn't until a year ago."
Red gave him a look, as if urging him to go on.
The meta chuffed, sounding a lot like whatever big cat he was supposed to be, "I'll only tell you my tragic backstory if you promise to help me find my mom."
"I'll find your mom." The bird said without an ounce of hesitation. Tim was a little offended. Did this guy think he was going to leave his mom in danger just because she was a criminal? Appearently so, seeing as the teen looked so relieved at his words.
"Okay, so my bio parents were evil mad scientists. Always a bad start, anyway they were obsessed with the occult and one day they suddenly took me and my sister to Brazil to hunt for some artifact of another. That alone was strange but weirder still was the fact my creepy godfather was paying for it all. He usually only does something like that when he's plotting "
"Plotting?" The detective interjected, "you make it sound like he does that often."
"Yeah. Hes a supervillian." The meta said casually, as if he didn't just leave Tim reeling, but the kid wasn't done yet, "He's had a massive crush on my bio mom since collage and never let it go no matter how many times she rejected him. She even married my dad, his best friend, and this dude just kept simping for 20 years." The teen rolled his eyes, "Hes convinced himself that if he murders my bio dad then my bio mom will fall in love with him and me and jazz will be "his"." He said that last part with fingerqoutes and a disgusted expression.
Tim filed that away for later, "Can I have his name, if nothing else?"
The teen seemed reluctant for a moment, "You're the worlds greatest detectives. You'll find out even if i try to hide it. Besides, I'd probably be better off if you and the Justice League know everything anyway."
Tim was...surprised by that. Most people usually weren't this open with them.
"His name is Vlad Masters, he also goes by Plasmius when he's dressed like a wannabe vampire. He's a ghost who's repossessed his corpse. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton, who are obsessed with ghosts and have convinced themselves that all ghosts are evil and must be destroyed, regardless of how much evidence points to them being wrong."
"And your name?"
The meta grinned at him, showing off four very sharp fangs, reminiscent of the large cat he takes after, "You can call me Jaguar. We were exploring a bit when I broke off from my family and got jumped by one of them. Suddenly I was struck by a claw and turned into furry bait. Fluffy stopped trying to make me his lunch and just stared at me before walking away, which was wierd. Then my parents found me, accused me of being a ghost, because thats naturally what someone would assume when thier son sprouts cat ears," he said while rolling his eyes.
"Naturally." Red joked, which had the benefit of making Jaguar smile.
"So my parents chased me through the jungle, shooting all the while, then suddenly a portal opened up in front of me. I'm not stupid, I know there was no way this wasn't a trap. I mean, a portal opening up right after that bizarre series of events and its the same shade of glowing green as the wierd death go my parents are obsessed with? There's no way they weren't related somhow, but I was desperate and jumped through anyway."
"I landed in another jungle, or the same one in a different location, I'm not sure. I tried hunting and foraging but wasn't very successful at either." Danny still remembered the throbbed in his head when he had headbutt that tree after missing his pounce on that pig he had been stalking. "Thats when Cheetah found me. She took me in and taught me to hunt and fight."
-----
Possible plot twists:
1. Danny isnt Phantom in this au
2. Danny is Phantom in this au but is trying to leave that life behind
3. My favorite. Danny has the ability to manipulate and control animals into doing his bidding with the effect of jaguars and other big cats being the most prevalent and he just doesn't realize it.
One of Cheetahs friends/allies realizes cheetah has changed and suspected something and convinced her to leave for a while to see if her care for this kid faded after a while away from his presence. It works and Danny loses another parental figure/possibly attacked by them too.
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thatfreshi · 8 months
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Could I request an Astarion/GN!reader(Tav) where reader has trauma around their throat being touched and stuff but bears through the panic attacks just so Astarion can feed and Astarion only finds out after they make camp and confronts reader/Tav about their mental breakdown after a battle they had prior in the day?(reader got grabbed forcefully by the neck?) Essentially a bit of angst and comfort?
Set in act 2!!
TW - choking, panic attack, disordered eating behaviors
Recommended Song: Don't Invest In Me - Adam Melchor
Battle is horrifying, something Astarion never truly quite realized until he fell in love you with. He's talented, especially at killing people. He's never had to worry in a fight, because it was always just him. Now he has to worry about you, and it's painful, not being able to be by your side constantly, watching you in perilous situations, looking death right in the eye. When your group ran into a few violent adventurers yesterday, you weren't expecting any trouble. Suddenly, metal clashing, magic moving through the trees. Astarion moved quickly, offing one of the offenders almost immediately. When he turned to see who was next, bloodlust in his eyes, he saw you being held by the throat. You were frozen, running out of oxygen, tears welling at your eyes. He ran through the trees, running his blade through your captor's back.
"Tav? My dear, are you alright?"
You can't speak, utterly shocked. No one had ever tried to choke you in the throes of battle, and it reminded you of awful things, things that were better left unsaid. He checks you for any other wounds as you're trapped in your own mind. The fighting continues, but he doesn't care. All that matters is you, the others can handle themselves just fine. And if not, that's their loss, not his.
After thoroughly checking you over, he can't find anything else of concern. The bruising on your neck though, it's black and blue already. Racing thoughts, wondering if there's been any lasting damage. He can't decide if he should be more concerned about the fact that you're practically frozen in place or if your windpipe is destroyed.
"The fuck are you doing? We have shit to deal with!"
Karlach silences her complaints when she sees you lying on the ground. Astarion doesn't even look up at her, afraid. He's only ever truly had one thing, one thing that was his, and that's you. Everything else feels so impermanent, but you? You're constant.
"Astarion! Astarion!"
She yells out his name until he finally snaps back to look at your tiefling friend.
"Take Tav back to camp, we've got it covered."
Karlach then runs off, back to assist Wyll with a shadow-covered half-elf. You groan in pain, your neck on fire. As you start to come back to reality, you realize you're in the vampire's arms, a vampire currently moving through the dark as quickly as possible. Neither of you have lights on you, but he knows there are still torches lit at camp, he just has to get there before the shadow curse starts to take hold. You're light-headed, both from lack of oxygen and the panic attack.
"Where...?"
"Hush darling, it's alright. We're almost there, almost to camp."
Through a couple more feet of trees, the two of you make it, bathing in the warm light of the torches posted behind the brush. He takes you back to your tent, where your bedrolls lie side by side. He silently curses himself for not knowing any healing magic, promising himself he'll finally learn after this.
"Aster?"
You call out groggily.
"Yes my love, I'm right here."
Ceasing the nervous pacing, he sits by your side.
"What... what happened?"
He almost doesn't want to say, worried about how you reacted while it was happening.
"One of the shadow-cursed, they... they had you in a nasty chokehold, and I killed them."
You shift, wishing he didn't have to know about all of this.
"Sorry."
"About what darling? You've done nothing wrong."
"About not telling you- not telling you about it."
You're gasping to get your words out, your throat clearly damaged. He furrows his brow in concerned confusion.
"I- I really don't like people touching my neck, doing anything to it to be honest. Wasn't expecting one of them to grab me like that."
Coughing at the end of your sentence, you don't see Astarion's eyes travel through his thoughts, realizing what that means.
"Darling... you let me feed off of you almost every evening."
You smile a little.
"I know."
He grabs one of your hands, clasping it in both of his.
"I'll never do it again. I'm so sorry, I had no idea."
Frantic, worried he's done something irreversibly wrong.
"No, no Aster it's okay. Does it suck sometimes? Yeah, but I need you to be healthy. Besides, what's a better way to work through your trauma than exposure therapy?"
"That's not fair. I can find something else, some other way."
"And what, go back to forest animals? You know there's nothing for you out here, in the darkness."
"Then I'll simply starve! Done it before, I'll do it again."
Gods, he's stubborn. You don't blame him, he would never want to cross anyone's boundaries after his have been trampled a million times.
"My love, come here."
You reach out, beckoning to pull him down beside you.
"If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't. You need to feed, and I can provide that. You do plenty for me, let me do this one thing for you."
"But, but you hate it."
"Yeah. Those two things can coexist, my hate for people touching my neck, and my love for you. I can put up with the anxiety if it means you're okay."
"I would be okay though."
You cup his face in your hand, making sure he's looking at you.
"I'm telling you I'm okay, and that you deserve more than rats. Okay?"
You've been around him long enough, you know his logic. If he survived for two hundred years living off of flies and rats, he certainly doesn't need blood like yours. If he had starved for an entire year, he could take a few months before getting to Baldur's Gate. Sometimes you have to remind him that survival mode isn't living, that he's allowed to have nice things. Tears fall from his eyes.
"Are you sure my sweet? Absolutely certain?"
"Of course, and if I ever needed you to stop I would tell you, promise."
You put your pinky out, and he stares at it.
"What... what are you doing? Is this you offering me to feed off a singular finger? Because if so, that's uh-"
"No, gods! It's a pinky promise."
"A... a what?"
You start laughing, so hard that you start coughing again, tears falling down your face.
"You've never heard of a pinky promise?"
It pulls at your heart a little, realizing he probably never had anyone teach him.
"I guess I haven't."
You put your pinky out, and he does the same, and then you hook yours, interlacing the small finger with his.
"There, I pinky promise that I'll tell you if you need to stop feeding on me."
As you pull your hand away, he looks confused.
"And that's what, some non-verbal contract?"
"I guess so Mr. Magistrate."
You start laughing again.
"Okay, you have thoroughly scared me, and made me cry, and teased me, in one night! I'm not sure how much more I can take."
There's a hint of humor in his tone. Honestly, he also thinks it's ridiculous that he was a magistrate, considering he was terrible at it, at least from the small things he remembers.
"Well, it's over now. I'm okay, and we're safe."
He narrows his eyes.
"I'm still going to have Shadowheart look over you when the rest return."
"Well, that's your fault for not learning healing magic."
"Okay, you don't know any magic, so I don't want to hear it!"
The two of you stay up for hours, laughing at stupid jokes, hysterical from the tragedy that evening. Sometimes after something horrible, you just need a good laugh, especially with your easily provoked lover.
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talesofesther · 2 years
Text
would you kiss me in a crowded room?
Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: There was always a push and pull with Eddie. He'll kiss you in an abandoned corner of the library and then barely talk to you in the cafeteria, but will look like a kicked puppy if you so much as think about giving him a cold shoulder. You care for him, deeply, but sometimes, he confuses the shit out of you.
A/N: Let me say already that this is by no means my best work. It's just something I randomly wrote while bored, with a bit of Halloween spirit. Definitely not very proofread.
Masterlist
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The burn of vodka was unpleasant down your throat, still, you kept on drinking, tilting the red solo cup until the last drops of your drink were gone.
You didn't know whose house this was, honestly you didn't care. Halloween was one of your favorite holidays, and when a friend finds you a party to go to, you don't ask many questions. As a last-minute call, you snatched a long, black cloak and a witch's hat from your closet, pairing it with a dark dress you hadn't used in a few good years and a pair of boots so you had a costume.
The music was loud in your ears, you could feel the drums of it on your chest; the lights were dimmed inside, making it hard for you to avoid stepping on the many discarded cups that littered the floor whilst you danced. Tina held onto one of your hands, moving wildly around and taking you with her. She smelled of alcohol, you did too probably, but you knew for a fact that she drank twice as more as you did.
"You're making me dizzy," you giggled, holding onto her shoulder with your free hand.
"Come on, I feel like I'm dancing with a mummy, you're too stiff," the girl jumped on the spot as if to emphasize her point, the cat ears she had on her head bounced with the movement.
"You're the one that's too loose," you said, but followed her lead nonetheless.
You had long since lost count of how many hours had passed since you arrived when the house started to feel way too cramped. You desperately needed fresh air.
The backyard was huge, shiny pumpkins adorned the stone path that lead you to the pool and lounge chairs, there was a patch of grass with a few trees further back, fake spider webs and makeshift ghosts were hung up on the branches; it felt like a different world compared to the raging party inside. Just a few people stood outside, mostly ones that were too far gone on drinks, and, to your surprise, one Eddie Munson sulking in one of the lounge chairs, beneath the starry sky.
The leather of his jacket was shining with the few lights that surrounded the pool, he wasn't looking at you and you took that as an opportunity to look at him. His eyes were dark all around, eyeliner painting the lids, and he had fake blood down the corner of his lips and to his neck, all giving his skin a paler tone.
You smirked, the chilly wind made your cloak flutter around you, walking up to Eddie with one boot in front of the other, "vampire Eddie," his eyes shot quickly to you, a smile of his own already forming and only increasing yours, "I like it. Suits you."
Eddie leaned back on his palms, his eyes nothing but black orbs in the night as he looked you up and down. "A witch," he began, and you couldn't help but feel heat creeping up your neck because of his attention.
He got up, extending a hand to you and wiggling his fingers until you took it, only for him to turn you around so he could see you from all angles, "always knew you were magical, sweetheart."
Eddie's voice was all warm and sultry, sending a pleasant shiver down your back. You ducked your head, your hand still gently held up by his, "you flatter me, Munson."
"Nothing but the truth passes through these lips," as if there was a gravity field around you, Eddie lowered your hands only to intertwine his fingers with yours. He smiled something shy, a timid tilt of lips as the only telling against the confidence in his tone. "I wasn't expecting to see you here," he said, his free hand tugging on the edge of your cloak as if you'd slip away.
Maybe he knew you better than you gave him credit for. "Roll for perception?" You raised an eyebrow at him, letting go and stepping away to walk along the pool's edge.
You heard him groan, and then the quick steps that followed before his shoulder bumped yours as he fell into step with you. Personal space was not in Eddie's dictionary when it came to you, not that you minded.
"Come on, I was going to call, but I came for just a few sales, last minute thing," his curls bounced with his steps, lower lip caught between his teeth and eyebrows up as he looked at you through his lashes. Eddie was nervous. "Humour me," he tried.
"Like you wouldn't roll a natural twenty," you muttered under your breath, gazing at your reflection in the pool's water.
Eddie's fingertips grazed the top of your ear as he pushed back strands of hair. Only to see you better, he told himself. "You know I would," he kept his voice just as quiet, the music coming from inside the house almost clouded it.
Your eyes closed for a brief moment just so you could turn to him, just so you could take a breath and will your heart to calm down. "I came with a few friends," you shrugged, trying to placate him, "and they're probably wondering where I am, so…"
"Do you wanna come back with me?" Eddie blurted out before you could leave. "We can smoke or, I could play something for you, or- or just be together?"
The small smile you gave him then held no happiness at all. You grasped the collar of his jacket in one hand to hold him in place, just long enough so you could peck his lips. A kiss that could barely be called a kiss, it wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last. "See you around, Eddie." You squeezed his hand before you turned to leave in lieu of saying; I'm not mad, but two can play this game.
Eddie didn't fight it when you walked back into the house, but he should have. His lips still tingled with the ghost of your touch as he gripped at his hair, mumbling countless curses under his breath. He considered throwing himself into the pool, if anything, the coldness of the water would numb everything else he was feeling.
You played some bear pong, gave Tina a peck on the lips in a game of spin the bottle, and danced some more, anything to keep your mind busy. But it didn't take long for you to find Eddie again, he was leaning back on the kitchen counter, red cup in hand, and looking for something in the crowd.
The burn of vodka was unpleasant, but it gave you a dash of confidence you wouldn't dream of while sober. Granted, the colorful lights did little to kill the darkness of the house, and most people were already beyond remembering anything tomorrow morning.
So it was easy to mold your way amongst the bodies, to walk the rest of the way to the kitchen and to him, before you could think better of it.
Nonchalant as ever, you stopped beside Eddie without looking at him, picking up a skull-shaped candy and throwing it in your mouth.
You could feel him shuffling closer to you, the warmth of him blossoming a color in your heart you couldn't find anywhere else — much as you might try. Eddie took your hand, a bold move considering the crowded room, he brought it to his lips and kissed each knuckle. You still didn't look at him.
"Don't shut me out," his voice was so low compared to the banging of the music, you felt more than heard the shape of his words on your fingertips, "please."
Eddie spoke softly and looked at you even softer, his eyes were glistening bright with the colorful lights when you finally met them with your own. There was always a push and pull with Eddie. He'll kiss you in an abandoned corner of the library and then barely talk to you in the cafeteria; he won't call you to parties but will look like a kicked puppy if you so much as think about giving him a cold shoulder. You care for him, deeply, but sometimes, he confuses the shit out of you.
"I won't, when you don't give me a reason to." You snatched your hand back, ignoring how it tugged at your heartstrings.
Dark curls fell like a curtain over Eddie's eyes when he ducked his head, his fingers rhythmically tapping the counter beside him; "I was just… trying to give you an out."
"And who said I want one?"
"You should."
"That's not for you to decide," you said a bit harsher, causing Eddie to finally look at you again, his eyes twitching as he tried to hold your gaze. You sighed and took off your witch's hat, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "Whatever, I don't care," you shook your head and walked away, not looking back. Your feet carried you all the way to the front porch, as far away from Eddie as you could get.
You braced your hands on the railings, already considering walking back home because you were so done with this party.
"What's a pretty face doing here alone?"
An involuntary groan escaped you when you heard his voice, James or Josh or something else irrelevant was his name.
"'m not alone," you grumbled, stepping away when he invaded your space.
"Looks pretty alone to me." He smelled strongly of alcohol and weed, slurring his words as he reached for your waist. "Let's get a drink, sweet thing."
"No thanks, no company at all is much more appealing," you smiled all sweet, hoping he'd just give up.
"What's your problem?" Apparently not. He made to grab onto your arm, but ringed fingers caught hold of his first.
Of course, he followed you.
"She said no, man. Just drop it," Eddie said, steadily, as he subtly pushed the man away and stood in front of you.
"What's it to you, freak?" The guy puffed his chest out as she spat the words. "Mind your own business."
Part of you knew where this was going. You curled a finger around the belt loop of Eddie's jeans, tugging gently. "Eddie leave it, let's go."
Eddie chuckled, straightening his posture and standing a few inches taller than the guy, "oh I am, and why don't you mind your business, get in there, down a few more drinks, and do us all a favor and pass out, yeah?"
As much as you might like the protective side of Eddie, it was the wrong thing to say. The guy got red with anger, if anything for the sole reason of having someone talk back to him. Neither you nor Eddie saw his punch coming, fist colliding squarely with Eddie's cheek and nose.
A few sober-ish people gathered around quickly to hold him back, but the damage was already done. Eddie brought a hand up to his nose and felt wetness there, blood was dripping steadily from one nostril and mixing with the fake one from his makeup.
The crimson color made your stomach twist and turn, a knot forming in your throat. You grabbed the hand Eddie wasn't holding under his nose and started dragging him away from the party. He followed you blindly, his eyes were half-lidded because of the sharp pain.
Your boots crushed the damp lawn as you looked around, the music from inside the house growing lower and lower, "where's your van?"
"Just around the corner," he motioned to an empty street, far away from the prying eyes; it was barely illuminated by yellow street lights that had bugs chasing their warmth. A quiet corner of the world.
You stomped your way there, throwing your hat over the van's hood once you reached it. "The hell were you thinking? Taunting him like that, do you have a death wish?"
"I was thinking that he wasn't gonna give up on you that easy," Eddie pulled away his hand and grimaced at the sight. He could feel the metallic taste of blood on his upper lip.
"Oh, so you make him punch you?" You crossed your arms to keep yourself from reaching out, palms already slick with perspiration.
Eddie brushed the sleeve of his jacket under his nose, hissing at the sting it caused. He somewhat curled in on himself, too aware of your eyes not leaving him once, "I had it under control."
"Evidently," you scoffed and Eddie winced at your tone. It hurt you just as much. You sighed, leaned your head back — the dark sky was full of clouds, only a few stars peeking through, the wind only getting colder — and dropped the act.
You walked up to Eddie, all careful and slow just as you did with the stray cats you wanted to pet, raising both hands to cup his cheeks; "let me see that."
Eddie gulped when you touched him, growing stiff, as if bracing for a scolding. You saw his eyes get wet when your thumbs brushed his cheekbones, a tiny tear clinging to his lower lashes that you chose to ignore.
"I don't think it's broken," you took hold of your cloak, raising the ends of it to his nose. You gently cleaned away the blood, tracing the shape of his cupid's bow. Eddie scrunched his eyebrows when you touched the bridge of his nose and the reddish part of his cheek, whimpering a little. You muttered apologies under your breath.
The moment felt way more intimate than it should. Eddie reached for the hand you had on his other cheek, holding it in place when he kissed your palm.
You sighed. This guy.
You dropped your forehead to his shoulder in some sort of an awkward embrace; "you can't do shit like that, Eddie." You let go of your black cloak, sneaking your hand under his jacket, under his shirt, palm brushing the warm skin of his waist. "Can't get yourself hurt 'cause of me."
The music of the party, the crickets singing and the sizzling of the street lamps were nothing but background noise. Eddie kissed your temple, arms closing around your shoulders and pulling you closer; bits of the affection he had for you spilling more and more. "Did you mean it?"
You frowned, tracing random patterns on his back and feeling his goosebumps under your fingertips; "mean what?"
"That you-" he hesitated, as if the words were choking him. "That you don't care?"
Subconsciously, you squeezed him tighter, "of course not."
Eddie nodded, you felt it, an exaggerated motion to try and calm himself down. He tucked his head on your shoulder; "okay," the word came out so shaky you barely recognized it.
You pulled away and Eddie almost panicked, but you kept your hold on him, only moving to wipe away the last droplet of blood that escaped his nose; "I do care about you," you started, knowing damn well he needed to hear you say it to believe it. You traced the shape of his eyebrow with your thumb, all the way to his hairline to bury your fingers in his curls, trying to memorize every curve of him, "so much, Eddie. But you have to let me."
"I want to," he breathed, pupils were blown wide and shining bright as he cupped your cheek, rings cool against your skin. "More than anything, I want this," he said, to the way you clung to each other.
So what's stopping you? You silently asked with a tilt of your head.
The nervous energy bounced off of him as Eddie ran a tongue over his bottom lip. You're not sure if he knows it, but Eddie’s face plays out his emotions like a book. "But you shouldn't settle for someone like me." He said it quietly, as if speaking the words out loud would make you believe them too.
"Someone like you?" You let out a breathy chuckle, squishing his cheeks with both hands and forcing his eyes to not leave you. "Eddie you're such an easy one to love, you gotta know that. There's no one else I'd rather be with."
Though a single tear met the pad of your thumb, Eddie smiled, shape a bit crooked because of your hands; you dropped them to his hips again, waiting, wishing he wouldn't pull away.
He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, smiling something teary, hair bouncing when he nodded his head; "Yeah?"
The small word was filled with hope and desperation, almost making you tear up as well.
"Yeah." You'd tell him that every day if he asked you to.
With his heart almost beating out of his chest, Eddie leaned down, brushing his nose with yours. And any other coherent thoughts slipped his mind when his upper lip grazed yours. He caught your lips with his in no hurry, in a way he'd never done before; clinging to you with everything he had, eyebrows just a bit furrowed, and tilting his head to be as close as possible. You could feel him, in every sense of the word.
Eddie tasted like sunshine and chocolate and just a bit like blood; most of all, he tasted like the prettiest of promises.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3
Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @daph-505 @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @witchbinchstories @call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @sweetpeapod @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh @andraimeide @esoltis280 @eddielives1986 @totallynotkaibiased @just-love-reading 
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wholoveseggs · 3 months
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Hey, I love the stories you are writing for us! Thank you so much! If there's room for another one, here's an idea: human reader is pregnant with Elijah's child but is afraid he might not believe her as it is impossible for a vampire to procreate. His reaction, in fact, causes her to leave New Orleans, and a few years later, she returns, and Elijah learns he is a dad. Fluffy, possibly smutty. ")
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Devotion
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he's so daddy, he's so father
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
When you find out you are pregnant you are afraid of how Elijah will react. His anxieties around fatherhood get the best of him and he gives in to his darker impulses.
♡♡ Thanks for the request(s) @originals23 @classymesstuff009 & anon ♡♡
I combined the ideas and changed some elements, but I hope I captured the spirit of the requests -xoxo
7.7k words - Warnings: this is less of a story with a plot and more of a series of events over the course of readers pregnancy, lots of angst, childbirth, so so so corny, so much fluff, lots of belly touches, Elijah being violently over protective, more fluff, lots of affection, smut at the end, unprotected sex (duh)
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"No no no no no," you mumbled, staring down at the fourth positive pregnancy test you'd taken that day. This couldn't be happening, it wasn't possible. But as you glanced over the little box and read the word "pregnant" again and again, it began to sink in. You were having a baby, Elijah Mikaelson's baby, a baby whose existence was impossible.
A sob you had been suppressing broke free, and you collapsed on the edge of the tub. You had no idea what you were going to do, your relationship with Elijah was complicated and had no label, and the thought of raising a baby by yourself was daunting.
"I'll figure it out," you told yourself as you pulled yourself up and splashed some cold water on your face.
You needed to tell Elijah, which was an entirely different kind of terrifying. He had always been very clear that vampires were unable to procreate, so he likely would not believe you. The thought made your stomach turn, and you rushed to the toilet once more to empty the meager contents.
It took you a couple weeks before you were able to build up the courage to tell Elijah. You had tried to find the words to break the news, but every time you thought you had it figured out, you panicked and decided against it.
But you were starting to show, and you knew it wouldn't be long until your clothes no longer concealed your growing belly. So, the day after your second ultrasound you invited Elijah over for dinner.
He was worried about you, it had been over a month since he'd seen you last and over two months since the last time you were intimate together. He missed you, and wondered if you'd met someone else. But that was the only explanation he could think of.
When he arrived at your place, he noticed something different right away. You looked exhausted, but you had a small glow to you, he also noticed that you gained some weight and he enjoyed how it filled out your figure.
You greeted him at the door, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek before handing you a bottle of wine. "Thank you," you smiled softly, leading him inside and taking the wine to the kitchen.
"It's been awhile," Elijah began, not knowing where to start, "are you doing alright?"
"Not exactly," you admitted, pouring two glasses of water and taking a seat on the couch next to him. Your hands began to shake, fear gripping you once more.
Elijah reached over and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "What is wrong?" He asked, searching your eyes.
You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before speaking. "I'm pregnant."
You could see the confusion, the anger, the disappointment and a dozen other emotions flash through his eyes. You couldn't stand the way he was looking at you, so you pulled your hand from his and stood, pacing around the room.
Elijah didn't know what to think, clearly you were seeing someone else. It hurt him, but neither of you ever had the talk about being exclusive. The thought of you with another man disappointed him immensely, it made him realize how much he wanted you all to himself. But it was too late for that now.
"Elijah, say something," you begged, tears streaming down your face. You were desperate for him to just say anything.
"Who is the father?" He questioned, his voice low.
You expected this question and had thought about your response for a while. Of course he wouldn't think it was his, it was impossible. But you had been with no one else, and you were tired of being a secret, you wanted to be a family, and if he rejected the idea, then that was on him.
"You," you answered, wiping the tears from your cheeks.
"That's not possible," he shook his head. "I can't procreate."
"Klaus can, why not you?" You snapped. You weren't expecting him to believe you, but the reality of it hurt more than you expected.
"Klaus is unique, I am not," he stated plainly. You were quite distressed and although he didn't believe himself to be the father he still had sympathy for your situation.
“Is the father not... A good man?" He asked.
You began to sob, the hormones were really working against you, and you didn't know what to do. He had no idea how to react, and the longer you stayed silent, the more worried he became.
"I'm sorry," he spoke, his voice low, as he moved towards you.
"Don't," you shook your head, pulling away from his touch. "If you don't believe me, that's fine. I'm not going to beg you. I can raise this baby on my own."
"I can't be the father, y/n," Elijah said, trying to reach for you once more.
"Just leave, please," you pleaded. He didn't believe you, he thought you were seeing someone else, and you couldn't stand to be in the same room with him any longer. "Get out Elijah!" You shouted.
Frustration rose within him, he didn't enjoy being blamed for something he didn't do.
“Fine," he muttered, moving towards the door.
You felt overwhelmed with despair and wanted nothing more to do with him, so you watched him walk out the door without saying a word.
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It had been a few weeks since you last saw Elijah and your mental health was deteriorating at an alarming rate. You had very little support financially or emotionally and it was taking a toll on you.
You hadn't slept or eaten well and when you did, you often felt sick afterwards. You had known about postpartum depression, but apparently there was something called prenatal depression as well. You had been reading online about the symptoms, and it was almost as though you were looking in a mirror.
You needed help, but couldn't will yourself to ask for it. You had no family, and no friends in the city. The only person you knew in Louisiana was Elijah, and you didn't want anything to do with him.
His rejection of you and the baby hurt more than anything you'd ever experienced before. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at a picture of the ultrasound. You felt alone and abandoned.
You would walk the streets at night, a foolish thing to do considering the threats in New Orleans. But it was the only thing that seemed to calm your mind, and the fresh air helped ease the nausea.
It was a clear, warm night and the streets were quiet. The soft glow of the street lights created a calming atmosphere, and the cool breeze blew the hair away from your face. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the moment of peace.
Then you started to cry, your hormones making you feel like you were losing your mind. You hated it, you would start to cry for no reason and then cry some more because you were frustrated over crying for no reason. It was an endless cycle.
You felt so lost, you thought you could do this all on your own, but you hadn't even had the baby yet and you were falling apart. Even though Elijah didn't believe the child to be his, it was still a Mikaelson and that came with many consequences, some you couldn't possibly foresee. You knew of Hope and how she barely survived her birth, what if the same thing happened to you and your child? You didn't have Elijah to protect you.
You knew you needed to swallow your pride and convince Elijah, he was the only one who could protect both of you.
Your feet took you to the compound before you could talk yourself out of it, and you stood at the gates, hesitating for a moment before making your way inside. You could feel the baby kick and move, it strengthened your resolve.
Elijah was in his study when he heard you approaching, and he wondered what you wanted. He decided to leave you alone after you kicked him out. It was the right thing to do, he reminded himself, he was not the father.
When he saw you standing in the doorway, he could tell you were upset, but he had no desire to talk to you, not after the last time.
"Elijah, please listen to me," you said softly, the words sticking in your throat. "The baby is yours, I have never slept with anyone but you. There is no one else, only you."
He sighed, he wished he could believe you, but he knew it was not possible. He wondered how awful the true father had to be if you were here lying to him once again.
"I know we were never exclusive, but I wish you would be honest with me about whoever the father is," he said, his voice low.
You stared at him for a moment before a sob escaped your lips. "Elijah, there is no one else, there has never been anyone else."
"Why do you insist upon lying?" He asked, turning away from you, unable to stand the pain in your eyes.
Sudden rage boiled over inside of you and you lashed out at the nearby table, knocking the items onto the floor. "I am not fucking lying!" You shouted.
Your outburst was quite unexpected, and he turned back to look at you, his eyes narrowing. Before he could say anything Freya walked in, alerted by the yelling and broken glass.
"What's going on?" She asked, stepping in between the two of you.
The tears returned, always at the most inconvenient times, and you just sobbed into your hands and knelt to the floor. Pure frustration and exhaustion took over and you were completely overwhelmed.
Freya looked at Elijah, confused and annoyed. He wasn't the type to yell, and certainly not at a pregnant woman. She wondered what was going on and why you were so upset.
Elijah shook his head, and began cleaning up the mess you'd made. He couldn't bear to look at you, the pain in your eyes was too much for him.
Freya walked over and knelt next to you, rubbing your back. "Tell me what's wrong sweetheart," she said softly.
The moment Freya touched you she felt it, her own blood, running through your veins.
"It's okay," Freya assured you. "Can I touch your belly?"
You nodded again, and she gently placed her hand over the swell, and instantly felt the magic pulsating from your womb. Freya could always sense her own blood, so long she searched for it. And here it was, right in front of her.
She was overjoyed, she had a niece or nephew, a new tiny Mikaelson for her to dote on. She was also so angry at her foolish brother she could have strangled him.
"Elijah," she said sternly, mustering her big sister voice to scold her little brother. "It's yours," she said firmly, standing and facing him.
He froze, a mixture of emotions passing through him. First he felt disbelief, then excitement, and finally dread. If this was his child, then the threats they faced everyday were even more dangerous.
"Are you certain?" He asked, not wanting to believe, fear gripping his heart.
Freya nodded, and moved to stand next to you, helping you to your feet. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally.
"Why didn't you bring her to me sooner?" She asked him, helping you over to the sofa and fetching you a glass of water. "Look at her Elijah, how could you leave her like this?"
He knew his sister was right, and he felt ashamed. He had been a fool, and caused you unnecessary suffering. He would not be making that mistake again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, coming to kneel in front of you. "Forgive me, please."
"I tried to tell you," you said softly, sniffling quietly.
"Leave us Freya, thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off you.
Freya was reluctant, but agreed, closing the door behind her. Elijah sat next to you, his posture stiff, and his face a stony expression. You were afraid, unsure what he would do or say.
He was always prone to self-loathing, but this was a new level, and he didn't know what to do. He felt incredibly guilty and responsible for the pain and stress he caused you. You did not look well, and he knew he needed to do everything he could to fix this.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, you looked dazed and swayed a bit, he pulled you close, resting your head on his shoulder.
"Don't apologize," you whispered, lifting your head and looking at him, "just promise you will help me, that's all I ask,"
Elijah was taken aback by the request. Of course he was going to help, why wouldn't he? But the fact that you needed to ask, made him feel terrible, made him feel like Klaus.
"Of course," he assured you, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.
A few tears escaped your eyes. You were tired and overwhelmed and his words and gentle touches were enough to completely break you. You began to cry, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed. A tidal wave of conflicting emotions washing over you, frustration, anger, guilt and a tiny hint of relief.
Elijah felt terrible, and he hated himself for causing this. You were pregnant, alone, and suffering. He would never forgive himself.
"You will stay here and you don't have to worry about a thing," he soothed, gently rubbing your back, "I will take care of everything, I promise,"
He meant it, you and the baby were his responsibility now, and he would protect you both with his life.
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It had been a month since you moved into the compound and Elijah was true to his word and took care of everything.
He compelled doctors to check on you and Freya was also doing a spell daily to ensure the baby was healthy and developing well.
But he didn't have to compel people for the things that mattered. He was the one cooking your meals, helping with the nursery, and ensuring you were getting rest.
One night after dinner, you were sitting on the sofa together, talking and laughing.
You were starting to feel better, but you still struggled with your emotions, and Elijah did his best to make sure you were always happy and stress free.
You began to feel a little anxious, and he immediately sensed it, pulling you close to cuddle with him. Neither of you had discussed your growing feelings and neither of you knew where you stood with each other.
He placed a warm hand on your growing bump, and it instantly soothed the baby, and in turn, helped calm your nerves. You leaned closer into him and he wrapped his other arm around your shoulder.
He enjoyed having you so close, and he could smell the sweet scent of your shampoo as you rested your head against his shoulder. He still felt such guilt for the pain and stress he had caused you.
"Is this okay?" He asked softly, his hand slowly moving over the swell.
You smiled, enjoying the gentle caress. "Mmhmm," you hummed, snuggling deeper into his side.
He was being very sweet, and you were beginning to suspect that he had more than just feelings of obligation for the baby.
Elijah was enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his, and he hoped that he could continue to make amends for the way he behaved.
"Have you thought of any names?" He asked, resting his chin on the top of your head.
"Hmmm," you thought, enjoying the warmth of his hand and the rumble of his chest. "I'm thinking… Elijah jr," you teased, giggling.
He chuckled and gave you a light squeeze. "Absolutely not," he smirked, kissing the top of your head.
It was a pleasant moment and the two of you laughed and talked about the upcoming birth and baby names.
Eventually, you fell asleep, and Elijah picked you up and carried you to bed. He gently tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead.
Now that you were asleep, he could let his own anxieties surface. The trauma around Hope's birth still haunted him and he would do anything to prevent that from happening to you.
So he did the same thing he had done every night since you moved in. He left the compound to go hunting.
The first night you arrived, he went out for a drink, planning on just having one to calm his nerves. But then he heard a group of young vampires discussing the strung out looking pregnant woman walking the streets at night. And when they wondered what a pregnant woman's blood would taste like... Well they didn't stand a chance after that.
It made him feel better, seeing their body parts scattered around him, to smell their blood and have their dead hearts in his hands.
And so on it went, he would stalk the streets of the French Quarter, waiting for anyone to dare mention you or the baby. It didn't matter who, why or even where, they would never get a chance to speak again.
Every night he would return, his hunger sated, and he would climb into bed with you. You were still sound asleep and unaware of what he was doing. He would pull you close to him, and listen to the soft rhythmic beat of your heart and the heart of his child. It was the only thing that calmed him, and it helped him drift off into a peaceful sleep.
But that night you woke, the baby was kicking and it made you feel nauseous. You got up to go to the bathroom, too groggy to notice Elijah in the shower until you walked in.
You gasped at the sight of him covered in blood, halfway through washing it off of him under the warm water.
He noticed the shocked look on your face, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.
"Is that... blood?" You asked, eyeing the pink tint to the water as it disappeared down the drain.
Elijah hesitated, "it's nothing you need to worry about," he insisted.
He wasn't trying to lie or deceive you, he was trying to protect you. He knew it was twisted and wrong, and he would be the first to admit he had a dark side, but he would never want you to see it.
"Why are you covered in blood?" You asked, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of your stomach.
Elijah was not accustomed to answering questions, he was usually the one giving the orders, but you were not one of his siblings. He would tell you the truth, you deserved that.
"It's the blood of those who wish to do us harm," he admitted.
He expected you to be shocked, but the truth was, you weren't. He was a Mikaelson, and a powerful vampire, it was only natural that others would want to hurt him and his family. Hayley had shared with you what happened to her when she gave birth to Hope, you were beyond frightened of it happening to you. Fear is a powerful thing, it can override any sort of morals you may possess.
"And did you kill them?" You asked, looking directly into his eyes.
He nodded, he could see that you were not upset, and he was relieved.
"How many?"
Elijah was slightly taken aback by your curiosity, and it gave him pause.
"A lot," he admitted, his dark eyes flashing in the dim light of the room.
"I know you are afraid, I am too," you said softly, reaching out and touching his face. "I'm afraid of the birth, of our child being in danger," you confessed, "and I'm afraid for you and all the darkness you take on to protect us,"
"I'm doing what I have to," he said softly, covering your hand with his.
"I know," you nodded, leaning closer and resting your forehead against his. "And I am grateful for that, and I trust you, but I don't want you to be consumed by it,"
He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tight, listening to the gentle beat of your heart and that of your child.
"Let's get you back to bed," he said softly, kissing your forehead.
You were still exhausted, and he wanted you to rest. He helped you back to bed and tucked you in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before heading to his own room.
From that night on he stopped hunting, and spent more time with you. The two of you were becoming closer, but he didn't want you do feel any sort of pressure to be with him. He would be happy with whatever you were comfortable with.
He was plagued by nightmares, visions of you dead in his arms the same way Hayley was, and he woke up in a cold sweat every night. He would climb into bed next to you and pull you close, placing his hand on your bump and waiting for the baby to kick. When the child would move, it was a reassurance that the two of you were alive, and you were safe.
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Your eighth month of pregnancy was difficult, and Elijah had become even more attentive. Your ankles were swollen, your back ached, and the baby was a wild one.
But the worst part was the hormones, they were completely out of control. You cried at everything, the commercial about a cute dog, a sad movie, and even a happy song. You were a wreck and it was a struggle just to get through the day.
Hayley, Rebekah and Freya had noticed your increasing distress and decided to throw you a baby shower. It was nice to be surrounded by people that cared about you.
The women of the Mikaelson family understood you more than anyone ever could, and they did their best to make sure you were comfortable. Hayley was especially sympathetic and supportive, having been through it herself.
"The last three months are killer," she laughed, patting your belly.
"Tell me about it," you sighed, watching Rebekah and Freya decorate the courtyard for the upcoming party.
"They are really going all out for this," Hayley laughed, and you could tell she was pleased that the other two were trying to make you feel welcome.
"I think it's more for the baby than me," you giggled, "they love being aunties,"
"Am I an auntie too?" Hayley teased, knowing she wasn't biologically connected, but the baby was still family.
You nodded, and she was beaming with joy.
"Well, i'm excited for Hope to have a little cousin, she needs someone to play with," Hayley smiled, her hand still resting on your belly.
You were both startled by a sudden sharp movement from the baby, and laughed.
"Well, this one will definitely keep her on her toes," you laughed.
The party was extravagant to say the least, it was more of a ball than a baby shower. Klaus had invited every faction of the supernatural world and there was an assortment of vampires, witches and wolves mingling together.
Klaus and Elijah decided to take an entirely different approach to your pregnancy and the impending birth than the one they had with Hayley.
They knew not to repeat the mistakes they made the first time and wanted to foster peace and harmony among the factions.
Elijah was on edge, his nightmares becoming increasingly worse, and he was struggling to find a way to ease his anxieties.
He would have preferred not to have this party, but he was overridden by the rest of his family.
He knew it was important, a sign of good faith and acceptance. But his mind was plagued with the past and the pain and suffering that came from that. He wanted to forget the horrors and the violence and the blood, and focus on the future and the new life that was coming.
He dove head first into the politics, spending the evening schmoozing and talking business with the representatives of each faction. It was the only way for him to feel calm and in control, and it kept his mind from drifting into darker corners.
"Are you okay?"
His thoughts were interrupted by you, and the sound of your voice calmed him. You had come over to him and was holding his hand, looking concerned.
You looked so beautiful, your hair in soft curls, your belly protruding from a flowy blue dress. You were round and glowing and a perfect picture of motherhood.
"Of course," he assured you, squeezing your hand and taking a sip of his drink.
You were worried about him, he seemed distant and preoccupied.
"It's too much isn't it? This party," you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the crowds.
"No," he shook his head, "it's wonderful," he forced a smile, not wanting to worry you.
"If you want to leave, we can," you offered, feeling uncomfortable, and not wanting him to be either.
He kissed the side of your head, a gesture that made you blush. "This is for the baby, and I will not deny the baby anything,"
Elijah had always been a bit affectionate towards you, but he never overstepped his bounds and you were unsure of how to handle it. You enjoyed his presence, but it was getting a little confusing.
You were a bit flustered, and excused yourself, going to find some air outside. Elijah watched as you walked away and was tempted to follow, but he had his hands full, trying to talk the wolves out of challenging a vampire for a perceived slight.
You leaned against the balcony, letting the cool air calm your nerves.
"How's it going?" Said a party goer, you weren't sure what faction they were a part of, but they seemed a little drunk.
"Fine," you said, not wanting to be bothered.
"Pregnant with a Mikaelson, that's some shit luck," he snorted, clearly intoxicated.
"Excuse me?" You scoffed, wondering why this was a topic of discussion.
"I mean, there are three benefits to fucking vampires," he began, holding his hand up to count them, "one, no diseases, two, usually really good in bed and three, no pregnancies,"
He began to laugh, and you felt angry and defensive.
"I would appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut," you warned, not wanting to hear the drunken ramblings of an idiot.
"Was it worth one and maybe two to not have the third?" He laughed, clearly not getting the hint.
You were furious, and you went to walk away, but he grabbed your arm. "Lemme touch your belly, I wonder how strong a Mikaelson kicks," he laughed.
Before you could react Elijah appeared and had the drunk man by the throat. A crowd of party goers gathered to watch the scene.
Elijah was completely overcome by his rage, the fear in your eyes when the man grabbed you took him right back into his endless nightmares. A small part of him knew he should let the man go, but he couldn't, he was consumed by the thought that if he let go, he would lose you, and that was unacceptable.
He squeezed tighter and the man gagged, clawing at his hands and begging for mercy. The crowd gasped in horror as Elijah's eyes went black and veins crawled across his face.
"To anyone here who thinks it's okay to touch her, let this be an example of the fate you await," he snarled.
"Elijah!" You yelled, but it was too late.
The man was dead, and his head fell from his body.
You stood in shock, the entire party was silent, and Elijah dropped the body and turned towards you. He was shaking, and his eyes returned to their normal color, the veins disappearing from his face.
He turned to the crowd, projecting his voice loud and clear. "Do I make myself clear?" He growled, looking at the faces of everyone around him.
The room was full of fearful nods, and the crowd slowly dispersed.
Elijah took your hand, leading you out of the courtyard and towards his room.
You followed without a word, still in shock. He closed the door behind you and you sat down on his bed.
"Are you alright?" He asked, kneeling in front of you, his hands on your bump.
You nodded, and placed your hands over his.
"You have to understand," he began, and you could hear the strain in his voice, "when he touched you, when I saw his hands on you, I..."
He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, "I can't- I won't. Lose you."
"It's okay," you soothed, placing a hand on his cheek.
Elijah could hardly control his emotions, the fear and anguish was too much, and he let out a sob, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight.
You cradled his head in your hands and held him close, whispering sweet words and letting him know it was okay.
He was the strongest person you had ever known, and seeing him like this made your heart break.
"Shhh," you soothed, kissing the top of his head, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere,"
You felt his grip loosen, and his breathing became more steady.
"It's okay," you repeated, placing soft kisses on his cheek and forehead, and moving to his lips.
You hadn't kissed in nearly 8 months, not since the night you had made love and conceived the baby. But you felt him return the kiss, and he wrapped his arms around you.
He was hesitant and unsure of how you would respond. You had been together once, but things had been complicated and stressful. But he wanted to show you just how much he loved you.
He pulled away, searching your eyes, and finding only compassion and acceptance.
"I'm hoping we can try again, to be together, if you will have me," he whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of your face.
You leaned into his touch, and he was hopeful that you would want the same.
"Of course," you agreed, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, and running your fingers through his hair.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and enjoying the moment. It was peaceful and the first time Elijah had truly felt at ease in months.
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The day of the birth was finally upon you, and you were nervous and in pain. Freya and Hayley were at your side, holding your hand and trying to keep you calm as they helped you through your labor.
Elijah was pacing in the hallway, anxious and on edge. He had been a wreck, barely able to eat or sleep, and it was obvious to the entire family.
He stopped, listening to you moan and groan and hiss in pain. He wished he could take it all away, and felt a wave of guilt wash over him.
"Why don't you go be with her," Rebekah suggested, putting a hand on her brothers shoulder.
"She doesn't want me in there," he sighed, he had tried, and you had pushed him out, not wanting him to see you like this.
"She's in pain, she's probably not thinking clearly," Rebekah insisted, "trust me, she wants you in there,"
Elijah wasn't sure, but he couldn't handle not being near you any longer, so he went in, ready to be rejected.
You were in bed, sweating and panting and groaning. Hayley was holding your hand and Freya was using a spell to soothe your pain.
You opened your eyes, and saw him, and reached out for him, and he ran to your side, taking your other hand in his.
"You are doing so well," he said softly, his voice full of love.
"I can't," you groaned, feeling as though you couldn't go on.
"Yes, you can," he encouraged, kissing your knuckles.
You were in agony, but his touch and his voice were like a balm to your soul, and it gave you strength.
Rebekah was right, having him next to you was the best thing in the world, and it helped you through the hours of labor.
Finally, the moment came, and you screamed as you gave one final push. The room was filled with the sound of a crying infant and you collapsed back against the pillows.
"It's a boy!" Freya announced, cutting the umbilical cord and wrapping the baby up, passing him over to you.
"Oh my goodness," you cried, tears of joy running down your face as you looked down at the precious life in your arms.
"A boy," Elijah whispered, staring at his son in awe. He reached out and placed his hand on his sons head, feeling the soft downy hair.
"He's beautiful," Hayley commented, admiring the little bundle.
"Just like his father," you smiled, and Elijah kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you and your new baby.
You were exhausted, but ecstatic, and Elijah couldn't help but feel pride and joy. He had helped create such a perfect and precious creature. Out of all of his darkness came something pure and beautiful, and he would do anything to protect his son.
As the night went on the others left, leaving you and Elijah alone with the baby. The both of you couldn't take your eyes off of him.
"We need to decide on a name," you said softly, stroking the babies face with your finger.
"I think," Elijah began, watching the baby squirm and wriggle, "he should be named after his uncle Henrik,"
"That's perfect," you smiled, a tear running down your cheek, "Henry,"
"Henry," Elijah repeated, looking at his son, "I'm your father, and I promise to always love and protect you,"
"I will love you, until the end of time," you whispered, placing a soft kiss on Henry's tiny nose.
Henry let out a little squeak and yawned, and you and Elijah laughed. He was the most perfect thing you and Elijah had ever seen, and the two of you couldn't stop smiling.
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Life at the compound was hectic, with Hope and Henry underfoot. Elijah was always watching the babies, making sure they were safe and happy. He was a wonderful father and uncle, and it made you fall in love with him even more.
The two of you were utterly exhausted new parents and Rebekah insisted that the two of you take a break and spend a little time together. She convinced you and Elijah to let her care for Henry for a weekend, while the two of you got away.
It was hard for both of you, you had never been apart from him for more than a few hours, but the two of you needed the time alone.
"Just go, have fun," Rebekah had encouraged, taking Henry from Elijah, "you both need a break,"
The drive was long, but Elijah's company made it go by faster, and you finally arrived at the cabin.
"I hope this is okay," Elijah said, helping you out of the car.
"It's perfect," you assured him, it was cozy and private, and the view was spectacular.
The two of you walked inside, and took in the surroundings. It was a large cabin, with a beautiful stone fireplace and a big open kitchen. Elijah started the fire as you cooked dinner, the two of you fully in sync.
It was easy having him as a partner, and you felt relaxed and at home. The only thing missing from your lives was sex. Once Henry arrived it was a constant state of exhaustion and there wasn't much room for romance.
You thought back to the night Henry was conceived, and how passionate and hot the experience was. But you were nervous to do it again, the pregnancy had changed your body, and you weren't sure how he would react.
After dinner you cuddled up with him on the couch, his arm around your shoulder and your head resting on his chest. He kissed the top of your head and smiled.
"I've missed this," he said softly, playing with a loose strand of your hair.
"Me too," you admitted, running your hand up and down his arm.
He took a deep breath, and you could tell he was nervous about something.
"Is everything okay?" You asked, turning to look at him.
"Yes," he nodded, his brown eyes meeting yours, "I just...want you to know that I am completely in love with you, and I will do anything to make you happy,"
You blushed, and looked away, not sure what to say.
"And I know our relationship has been a bit unconventional," he continued, his voice low, "but I would like to court you, if you will allow me,"
"Court me?" You chuckled, "darling, I think you are doing this all backwards,"
"Perhaps," he laughed, taking your hand in his, "I couldn't ask for a better mother for my child, and a more devoted companion,"
You smiled, and leaned in, kissing him, and the spark was still there. He kissed back, cupping your face with his hands and pulling you onto his lap. His hands roamed your body and your breath hitched when he ran them up your thighs.
"Is this okay?" He asked, stopping, and looking up at you.
You nodded, and pressed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against him. He groaned and gripped your hips, guiding them to move with his.
You could feel his growing erection, and the friction against your core made you moan. You had missed this, and could hardly believe you had waited so long.
He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down and crawling on top of you, his lips never leaving yours.
You ran your fingers through his hair, and his hands traveled up your shirt, caressing your skin and cupping your breast.
You felt a bit self-conscious, your body was different now, and he hadn't seen it. You didn't want him to be disappointed, but you knew he wouldn't judge you.
"Darling, are you alright?" He asked, pulling away, "we can stop,"
"No," you shook your head, and sat up, "it's just, I'm a little nervous,"
"About?" He asked, furrowing his brows.
"My body," you admitted, "it's different now, and I know it's stupid, but I'm worried,"
He gave you a knowing look, and pulled your dress up over your head. You body was different, your breasts fuller, your hips wider, stretch marks across your belly and thighs.
"These scars are nothing to be ashamed of," he began, kissing the stretch marks across your stomach, "they show your strength and the fact that you brought a beautiful and healthy baby into the world,"
"Elijah," you blushed, not used to hearing him speak so openly about your body.
"These breasts, they have nourished our son. These hips, they carried and protected him," he continued, his hands on your body, caressing every inch.
"I have no words for how beautiful you are," he concluded, his eyes full of lust, "may I continue?"
You nodded, and he pulled his shirt off, exposing his chiseled torso. You ran your hands over his shoulders, tracing his muscles, and down his chest.
He trailed his lips up to your breasts, gently kissing them and sucking your nipples. He was gentle and slow, and it felt incredible. They were extra sensitive from breastfeeding, and his touch sent a shock straight to your core.
He slowly removed your underwear, his eyes raking over your naked body. He kissed every inch of your skin, loving every part of you.
His lips traveled down your belly, and settled between your legs. His tongue moved expertly against your clit, and you gasped, grabbing the sheets.
He hummed contently, missing the taste of you, and wanting to please you. His hands held your thighs, and his tongue teased and swirled.
You moaned and arched your back, it had been so long and you were so close already. He knew just how to get you there, and it only took a few minutes for him to bring you over the edge.
He didn't stop, and continued, sucking and licking, bringing you to orgasm again and again. Your head was spinning, and you could hardly breath, but it felt amazing.
Finally he stopped, and kissed his way up your body, until his lips met yours.
"You deserve a reward for being such a perfect mother," he smiled, his voice full of pride.
You smiled, and kissed him again, running your hands down his chest and stopping at his waistband.
"Now I think it's your turn," you whispered, unbuttoning his pants.
He smiled and watched your face as you underdressed him. His cock sprung free, and you stroked it, running your hand up and down the shaft. Looking into his eyes as he kneeled over you, his eyes heavy and filled with lust.
"It's been so long, I missed your touch," he growled, his voice husky.
"I've missed this too," you replied, stroking him and running your thumb over the tip.
He kissed you slowly and deeply, moaning as your hands worked him. His tongue explored your mouth, and you felt him twitch and throb in your hands.
"Hold on," he said softly, moving away from you.
He got up and rummaged around his bag, coming back with a condom.
"I've never used one of these before," he said sheepishly, and it was the most adorable thing.
You laughed and sat up, taking the foil packet and opening it, rolling it over his cock and kissing him.
"Now, where were we?" You smirked, laying back down.
He crawled back on top of you, lining his cock up with your entrance. He was still gentle, but you were ready for him, and the two of you were eager.
He pushed in, and it felt like the first time, hot and tight. He took his time, pushing in a bit at a time and allowing you to adjust.
Once he was fully inside, he waited a moment, kissing you, and savoring the feeling of being joined with you.
You moved your hips, signaling him to move, and he complied, thrusting slowly and deeply.
The two of you rocked back and forth, the soft sound of skin against skin filling the air. He moved with the perfect rhythm, hitting the right spot with every thrust.
His mouth was on your neck, leaving love bites, and his hands were on your hips, gripping tightly.
"I love you," he groaned, his voice strained.
"I love you too," you moaned, feeling yourself getting close.
You never wanted this to end, a part of you longing for even more than what you already had. You looked into his eyes, feeling the way his body connected with yours so perfectly.
Your orgasm rushed over you, and you squeezed him so hard he pulled out for moment, his cock resting on your stomach. He looked down at you, your pupils blown with love and lust.
"Do you want to make a sibling for Henry?" You said softly, toying gently with the tip of the condom, searching his eyes for an answer.
"Is that something you want?" He asked, looking down at you with pure love.
"Yes," you nodded, "I want another baby, I want a whole family with you,"
He kissed you in response, then smiled down at you, his eyes shining with happiness.
"I will give you anything you want," he whispered.
You pulled the condom off slowly, both of you panting heavily. He looked down, watching as your hands wrapped around his bare cock, pumping up and down, spreading the precum over the head.
You lined him back up, and he pushed back in, his breath catching as he eased his way into your warm and wet heat.
You could feel him throbbing inside of you, his length twitching and swelling as he got closer. He moaned, and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes shut tight.
"I want you to cum inside me," you whispered, knowing he was close.
You could feel yourself getting close, and his breath was labored, his hips grinding against yours, your wetness coating him.
His hips snapped, and his hands gripped the sheets, and with one final thrust he came, filling you up and pushing you over the edge.
He kissed you as he came down, his cock still pulsing as he softened inside of you. He hummed happily, keeping you connected as he rolled you on your side.
You curled up against him, and kissed him, and he pressed his hand gently against your stomach, imagining a tiny being forming inside.
"I always wanted a family of my own," he said softly, nuzzling into you, "thank you for giving me that,"
You squeezed him tighter, understanding the weight of his words. He had given you everything, love, devotion, a family. It was everything you ever wanted. He had helped you become the happiest and the best version of yourself and you did the same for him.
The two of you laid there, cuddled up against each other, safe and content. Tomorrow would bring a new adventure, but right now everything was perfect.
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maxislvt · 7 months
Text
Sink Your Teeth In
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pairing(s): vampire!natasha romanoff x werewolf!reader
summary: Vampires and werewolves were known enemies, but Natasha is more than willing to change that. Even if it's just for one night.
warning: amab!reader, blowjobs, sub!reader, slight dubcon
a/n: ummm nat gives the best head case closed
Event Masterlist
Werewolves and vampires were always at odds with each other. Not a thousand years could go by without vampires attacking werewolves or werewolves attacking vampires. It was all the same bloodline ending bullshit. 'Your father killed mine and now I must kill you!' over and over again. Some of those fathers weren't even worth killing anyone over. It was truly a shame that no one could see how compatible the two factions were. Vampires were strict, organized people that valued loyalty above all else. Werewolves were nothing short of loyal and obedient, you just had to train them. Natasha was so close to finding the perfect werewolf for her to prove that. 
Natasha had tried many times to tame a werewolf, but she'd run into a number of problems. They could be taught, but not many of them were willing to learn— especially not from a vampire. As disappointing as it was, it wasn't exactly a shock. A millennium long feuds were rarely ever one sided. Her previous attempts were also foiled by pride, shame, and simply being too boring to have any real fun.
So, Natasha spent another Friday night on the prowl.
Club Sonar was a rather interesting place. A tall building in the middle of nowhere buzzing with all forms of life. Monsters from all over the globe came together under the moon just to party. It was a messy place. The music was loud, bodies grinded against each other without a care, and secrets of all kinds were shared over the strongest alcohol. Though cultures mixed, money did not. 
Each floor of the bar was more expensive than the last. The alcohol got smoother, the music got slower, and the floors actually got cleaned. Upper floors were for people who supported the cause but had no interest in getting dirty. Natasha had more than enough money to sit at the top floor, but that wasn't any fun. She'd never find what she was looking for if she stayed up there. 
Werewolves were just as wealthy as vampires, but they were rowdy. They liked to play rough and get dirty. Big fancy houses just didn't appeal to them as much. Fancy clubs appealed to them even less. Natasha wasn't looking to tame someone — not to say her hand couldn't be forced — she was looking for someone soft and easy to mold. 
You weren't the easiest to find. Despite your size, the people on the dancefloor had no trouble pushing you around. You kept your head down no matter where you went. Natasha could tell you weren't there on your own, which made it harder to take you home. Not too hard though.
"This really isn't your scene," she said when she took the bar stool next to you. It was hard to keep her eyes in the right place. Your shyness was adorable, but there was no denying what she was really feeling. 
You looked around to make sure she was actually talking to you.  Though you weren't opposed to the conversation, it was hard to believe such a pretty woman had approached you. "Um, no. My friends wanted to come here. I mean it's cool just…couldn't we have a library or something? There's no point in intermingling if you're too drunk to remember what you're kissing."
Natasha laughed and scooted closer to you. "I guess you're right, but there's no shame in being curious. Right?" She looked at the glass in front of you. "Oh, that just won't do." Before you could interject, she tapped the countertop twice and brought over the bartender. It was a quick exchange, you didn't even see Natasha pull out any cash. Despite your confusion, you didn't put up a fight. You were exactly what Natasha was looking for. 
Guilt filled your eyes when you looked down at the fresh cocktail in front of you. Was it more rude to let it go to waste or ask the bartender for a refund? "Oh, you really didn't have to do that." Your hands hesitantly wrapped around the glass before taking a sip of the alcohol. The burn hit you immediately, but you tried to play it off. You tensed up to hold in the coughing fit building up in your chest. "It's…great, thanks," you forced out through a tight chest. 
Natasha gave you a firm pat on the back to force you to cough. She took away the glass and slid this towards you. "I would expect a werewolf to have a stronger alcohol tolerance," she said teasingly. Her hand stayed on your back even after your coughing had subsided. 
You shook your head. "A lot of us have sensitive pallets. I can taste whatever crappy oak barrel they made this in." There was an unexpected comfort in the way she touched you. "I should have asked this earlier, but what's your name?" You sat up straight as her hand moved down your back. You never really paid attention to your posture, but you had the strange urge to be better around her. 
"My name's Natasha, but you can call me Nat if you want. What's yours?"
"My name is Y/N. I don't really have a nickname, but whatever you come up with is fine." 
The conversation continued without trouble. Natasha seemed so enamored with how strong your pallet was. At the expense of Natasha's wallet and your sobriety, you had tasted just about every drink the bar had to offer. Eventually, you settled on just drinking strawberry daiquiris while you two talked. 
Natasha pulled your seat closer to her and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. "So how many more of those little smoothies do I have to buy to take you home with me?" Her hand slid up your thigh and gave it a firm squeeze. She could feel your dick twitching already. "I promise I'll only bite where it feels good."
You practically jumped out of your skin when Natasha kissed your neck. It was quick, but you could feel the pointed tips of her fangs brush against your skin. "Um..Can I finish this one first?" Before Natasha could say anything else you pulled out your phone and texted your friends. 'Leaving with a hot lady, ttyl!' was all you sent before cutting off your phone and downing the last of your drink. 
Natasha adored your enthusiasm. "I promise I'll get you home safe in the morning." She kissed your neck one last time before dragging you outside to her car. It was a good thing she brought her chauffeur along because there was no way she'd be able to keep her hands off you the entire ride home. 
You stumbled behind Natasha as best you could. Vampires were usually weaker than werewolves, but you were a little too tipsy to show your strength. You let Wanda push you into the backseat of her car. One sniff of the air and you could tell someone else was in the car. "You have a chauffeur?" Natasha covered your mouth and pushed you further into the backseat. 
"Home," was all she told the driver before closing the partition and focusing her attention on you. "Yes, but I promise the back of the car is soundproof." It certainly wasn't, but she needed to hear how whiny you could get. Natasha practically pounced on you after she closed the door. The kiss was hot and passionate. Your fangs bumped against hers every time your lips collided. "Can you taste what I drank earlier?" She asked with a giggle. 
A whine escaped your lips when Natasha pulled away. "Um…a lot of vodka and cooper..?" Your answer earned you another kiss. Natasha's lips felt like heaven against yours. She overwhelmed all your senses in the most delicious way possible. You didn't even notice how hard you'd gotten. "You smell…really good." You mumbled in the handful of seconds between kisses. 
She chuckled but didn't respond. You were too cute. "I'm going to make you feel so good tonight." Natasha's kisses moved down the side of your jaw until she reached the base of your neck. Her hands wasted no time undoing your belt and tossing it on the car's floor. One of her fingers circled around the tip of the tent in your pants while she watched you squirm. "You're so sensitive."
You opened your mouth to speak only to be interrupted by a string of cursing and desperate whimpering. "Sorry, I'm just new to all of this," you confessed. It was a little hard to imagine your first time going to a bar would take such a turn. 
"Don't tell me someone as cute as you is still a virgin." Your silence was enough. It was as arousing as it was disappointing. Natasha didn't want to go slow by any means, but the thought of getting to corrupt that innocent little mind of yours was exhilarating. "I promise I'll be extra gentle with your little friend." 
The car parked before Natasha could pull down your boxers. Natasha's lust-driven craze left you in quite an awkward position while waiting for her to unlock the door. Holding your pants up only made your bulge stand out more and there was an obscene amount of lipstick covering your neck. You hoped Natasha wasn't secretly vampire famous or else you'd be in real trouble. 
Natasha pulled you into her home and wasted no time undressing you. Your shoes, shorts, sweater, and T-shirt littered the soft carpet. Natasha had you completely naked by the time she pushed you onto the bed. "You're making a mess already," she whispered seductively as she crawled onto the bed. Her eyes focused on the way your member throbbed and leaked precum. 
Your eyes followed Natasha's as she began stroking your member. It was tortuously slow, but it felt good. A near-pornographic moan fell from your lips as your head tilted back. "Your hands are so soft," you whimpered pathetically. All your willpower went into staying still. You didn't know what to do with yourself. "C-can I touch you too?" You blindly reached out and grabbed the first thing you could feel. Mindlessly, you groped the soft flesh in hopes that it would make Natasha feel good too. Your face burned bright red as she moved your hand to where her breast actually was. “Sorry…I wasn’t looking,” you mumbled. 
Natasha kissed up the underside of your cock before licking all the way down to the base. “A good pup would pay attention to someone making them feel this good.” She waited until you looked down at her. Once she was sure you wouldn’t look away, she swallowed you down to the base. Her cheeks hallowed out as she began sucking you off.
Your hips twitched and your eyelids fluttered, but you tried your best to keep your eyes open. As your orgasm got closer, you found it harder to control yourself. An animalistic growl ripped through your throat as you tried to control yourself. Your fangs forced themselves out of your mouth and your claws had nearly ripped Natasha’s sheets. “W-wait, slow down,” were the only words you could get out before it happened. 
Hot white cum painted the inside of Natasha’s throat as she swallowed down everything you gave her. Natasha didn’t give you a break and continued until you pushed her away. “Is that all you have left?” She blew on your bulbous tip before giving it a kiss.
“N-no, I just…I need a second. That’s all.”
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