#A little spicy?

[ikeromantic]

To Distraction

'Trapped' indoors at his castle due to an unexpected blizzard. Vlad decided to let Chloe have a tour of his massive library and he felt bored, lonely since his beloved is buried deep in nothing but books, what would Vlad do to get her attention exclusively for him and not the ancient, dusty pages of literature.

A request for @scruffymctee Approx. 1200 words, sweet and a little spicy, featuring her OC Chloe Toussaint

The weather outside was frightful. So cold that the outer walls of the castle wept and the windows were masked in white. Vlad knew they wouldn’t be traveling anywhere for awhile. Thankfully, Faust was wrapped up in his lab with Charles ‘assisting.’ That left him time to enjoy Chloe. And he was enjoying her. Only . . .

His eyes drifted from the frosted windows, across the library to where his little baker sat. She was ensconced in an oversize chair, legs curled up beneath her. There was a book open on her lap and one of the castle cats sleeping by her side. A strand of auburn hair lay across her cheek, a recent escape from the loose bun at the back of her head. She tucked it behind her ear as he watched, but didn’t look up.

Vlad was pleased she was enjoying his library. The spark of pure joy in her clover-green eyes at the sight of so many books made him happy as well. It was just  . . . he cleared his throat, hoping she might glance up. Chloe kept reading. 

She had been reading since breakfast. Sitting there, quiet, barely stirring except to turn the page. And he was glad. But if he was honest with himself, he was feeling a bit lonely for her company. Distracted as she was, Chloe may as well be anywhere with her book. With anyone, or no one. He let out a small sigh. He was being selfish with her, of course. But wasn’t he entitled to be a little selfish after so many years of searching for her?

Vlad stood, still caught between his desire to disturb her and his reticence to do so. Then it hit him. He didn’t need to actually interrupt her reading. He could simply . . . attract her attention. She would look up if he started to move around. And she would smile. He would kiss her. And after the kiss, another kiss. He smiled.

Chloe still hadn’t looked up. That was alright. Vlad stretched, letting out a slight groan of pleasure at the feel of the motion. He checked from the corner of his eye, but she hadn’t noticed that either. 

Apparently, it was much harder to distract Chloe from her books than Vlad anticipated. That was fine. He enjoyed a challenge. After a moment of thought, he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it on the back of a chair. This movement also didn’t attract her attention, but he hadn’t expected it to. 

“It’s a little warm in here, don’t you think?” Vlad pretended to eye the two merrily crackling fireplaces, one at each end of the room. 

Chloe didn’t look up, but she did make a sound of acknowledgement. 

That was fine. Yes. Still just fine. He wasn’t feeling at all forgotten, ignored for the words on a page. Nope. Not him. Vlad reached down and undid the first several buttons on his shirt, revealing a pale expanse of firm, muscled chest. Chloe liked the way he looked. Surely this would grab her eyes. 

“That’s better.” Vlad sighed dramatically, stretching again to pull the shirt wide open. The last few buttons barely held across his navel. 

“Mmm,” Chloe replied, her gaze still fixed on her book. 

 “I’ll just straighten up in here.” Vlad eyed her. Usually she was quick to offer help, but she must not have heard him. She only nodded, nose still buried in the pages. He moved around her, making sure she would have full view of his near-naked chest while he pretended to put things away. 

After several minutes of this game, he decided subtlety wasn’t going to work. He’d need to be more direct. More obvious. He slipped the last few buttons free and let the shirt flutter to the floor. The full expanse of his chest was revealed, along with his well-muscled back and toned arms. He knew the effect this usually had on mortals (and other vampires too), and made sure to pose a little. 

Chloe continued not noticing. 

He cleared his throat again, but that yielded the same result as before. She was engrossed in the story on the pages in front of her. Vlad couldn’t help but pout a little. He wanted her attention but he didn’t want to have to ask for it. If she would just look up!

“Chloe.” He said her name softly, not exactly calling out to her but not-not calling out either.

“Mmm?” She turned a page. 

Vlad took a step closer. “Chloe.”

“Mmmhm?” She read on.

He knelt in front of her chair. One leg was folded beneath her, the other dangled just shy of the floor. Her skirt had rucked up to just above her knee from how she sat, leaving her legs covered by just her wool stockings. 

Vlad leaned forward and pressed a kiss just above her knee.

Chloe gave a little start. Her eyes finally drifted up from the page, then down, spotting him where he knelt. “V-vlad! You’re naked!” Her brows lifted. “What happened to your shirt?”

“I’m not sure I should allow you in my library. Books are entirely too distracting.” He ran his fingers up her calf, rasping against the spun wool. “Did you really only just now notice me?”

Her cheeks went hot. “I . . . ah . . . have you been like this for long?”

Vlad couldn’t help but chuckle. She was so adorably flustered. “Long enough to clean the room.”

“Oh.” She took a breath. “I - I’m sorry. I was just really enjoying the story. It’s about this woman that works in a bookshop, and she has to pick the next king. Only, all the princes are really cute and -”

He laughed again. “I am glad. You don’t need to apologize.” He kissed the inside of her thigh this time. “Just don’t forget that I need your attention too.” 

Chloe gave a little shiver at the touch. 

“I’ll let you get back to your cute princes and your bookshop girl.” Vlad smiled. 

“Wait! But . . . I thought . . . didn’t you want my attention now?” 

“I always want your attention. But that flush to your cheeks gave me what I need to wait for the rest of what I want.” He gently squeezed her thigh. 

Chloe cleared her throat. “Well. What if you didn’t need to wait?” 

Vlad’s smile widened. “Then I would start by removing these stockings of yours.” He slid his hand even further up, finding the garter belt. 

“And . . . and then?” 

“I would kiss the sweetness between your legs.” He undid the clasps on one leg, then the other.

Chloe swallowed. “Yes?”

He knew she was getting used to be loved. Desired. Her shy nature came out in moments like these. She couldn’t voice what she wanted unless she’d been drinking. “Then, when you are limp from pleasure, I would bend you over the divan,” he gestured to it. “And I would spread you open and fill you up.” 

“I-in the library? But what if . . . Faust? Charles might . . .”

“I locked the door.” His smile showed the gleam of fangs, and his eyes glinted with deep desire. “Should I continue?”   

[chremes007]

knee deep in the passenger seat 🚙

[dirtflunk]

deranged freaks. absolute weirdos. throw rocks at them

[blorbologist]

hi weird animated Matts I've missed you 💕❤💖💞💘💕

[kokoinupi]

also add in the tags if you want how your tolerance has changed over time!

[casmick-consequences]

lucius' biggest, most genuine smiles always being reserved for pete is something that can be so personal

[nidbaesenpai]

Dare you say this love could just save you

[anzukero]

everything good happens after 1am 🌙

[cassiexjunex]

I hope you like shy girls in tall socks 🙃

[cellyjubes]

various mgs4 raidens i love his design so so much…

[feligayzed]

Urbanshade was not prepared for the accommodations they would have to make so now he's got back pain too 💔

[hairmetal666]

Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.

He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.

Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.

"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.

"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."

He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.

Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."

"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."

"Is it?"

He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."

"My point exactly."

His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.

---

The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.

Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.

Or so Eddie thought.

Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.

"Harrington?"

"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."

Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.

Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"

The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.

By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.

The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.

His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.

Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."

And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.

Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.

Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.

It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.

They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.

"You won," Steve says.

"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."

"You deserved it."

He shrugs. "I don't know about that."

"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"

Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"

Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.

"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.

"You--what?"

"What if I did mean it?"

"You're straight."

Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."

"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"

"Um. Since you invited me to this?"

"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"

"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"

"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"

"I thought that happened to everyone!"

"It doesn't!"

"That's what Robin said!"

They're both yelling.

"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.

"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"

He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.

"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"

"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."

"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."

Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."

"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.

He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."

He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."

Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.

"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.

"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."

And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.

He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.

Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.

"Why not?"

"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.

Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.

[wetsuccubus2569]

i love you baby girl and can't wait to see you again

[spicy-apple-pie]

Does Damian consider Selina a mom? No.

Do they gang up on Bruce to allow them to foster kittens in the manor? Absolutely.

I support Damian and Selina bonding over animals and manipulating Bruce.

[tamayula-hl]

In a storage room in the corner of the castle

🐔