#vampire thread mirror

[starvingtongue]

[voyter]

CRIMINAL ! ... halloween special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

your boyfriend ends up loving your costume idea for the two of you more than he initially lets on.

word count. 5.4k words warnings. jk and oc have matching costumes. vmin being the kings of halloween parties. slight crack. smut. roleplay dynamics. light bondage (handcuffs). oral (fem!receiving). handjob. unprotected sex (be safe girlies). switch!jungkook. switch!reader.

ana's notes. happy (late) halloween !!! this was originally supposed to be posted on the 30th but it wasnt finished .. so i was going to post it on actual halloween day but i got busy LMFAO IM A MESS !!! initially i wanted to do a kinktober but my ass couldnt even keep up with this so AINT NO WAYYY LMFAO IDK HOW YALL DO IT. BUT DONT FEAR ITS HERE NOW !! i had sm fun writing this, hope you love it as much as i do !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx

For the past three years, Jimin and Taehyung have hosted their annual Halloween party. It's the one event they take seriously, spending hours planning the perfect invite list, décor, and food. Friends and acquaintances eagerly anticipate the night, knowing it'll be full of unforgettable moments, laughter, and chaos. Jimin and Taehyung always go all out, making their Halloween gathering the event of the season.

You and Jungkook have a tradition of matching costumes. The first year, you went as Harley Quinn, and Jungkook went as the Joker. That one's still one of your favorites — especially with Jungkook's green hair and tatted up face. He looked so good that night. The second year, you went for something bloodier: you, a sexy victim, and Jungkook as Ghostface. It was thrilling, especially when he made the night even better by fucking you with the mask still on. By the third year, you went classic as Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off your tits spilling out of your corset. This year, you decided to skip the fictional characters and go with something a little simpler — but still hot. You were dressed as a cop, or rather, a slutty cop, and Jungkook was the prisoner.

"Don't you think this is a little basic?"

“Do you know how many people I’ve seen at these parties dressed as vampires and cats?” you retort, adjusting your costume and checking yourself out in the mirror. “Trust me, baby, no one cares.”

Jungkook, clad in an orange jumpsuit, glares at you through the mirror. "I just hate orange," he says monotonously.

You turn around and face him, giving him a smirk. "You'll survive. Besides, you make anything look good."

He smirks, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Your arms snake around his neck, fingers threading through the hair at his nape. His hands roam from your waist to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms, pulling you closer. But just as things start to heat up, you push him back with a playful grin.

"Not now," you say, breathlessly. "We have to be there in a few."

Jungkook huffs in frustration, but doesn't argue. And even though he's not thrilled about his costume, the way his gaze darkens tells you he's already imagining what's to come later tonight. He knows he'll get you out of that outfit later. 

When you and Jungkook walk into the party, it’s all familiar faces. Laughter and cheers erupt the moment they spot you two, with Jungkook’s arms handcuffed behind his back, the bright orange of his jumpsuit standing out in the crowd. You guide him confidently by gripping his arm, playing the role of the stern cop escorting her prisoner.

Jungkook looks equal parts annoyed and amused, his usual cocky attitude momentarily restrained by the handcuffs, though the way his lips twitch hints at his playful frustration. The room seems to buzz with energy as people start teasing him the moment you step through the door.

“No fucking way you agreed to this!” Jimin exclaims, eyes wide in disbelief as he takes in the sight of Jungkook in handcuffs. Without missing a beat, he grabs the camera hanging around his neck, the polaroid already set and ready to capture every costume of the night. “Oh, I have to take a picture of this. Tae, hold my drink!”

Without waiting for a response, Jimin thrusts his red solo cup into Taehyung’s chest, some of the liquid sloshing out and soaking into Taehyung’s blazer. Tae rolls his eyes but doesn’t complain, knowing this is typical Jimin behavior.

Jimin hurriedly pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and pulls out the polaroid camera, eyes gleaming with excitement as he positions himself in front of you. You smirk, grabbing your belt, keeping your expression serious like a true cop on duty. Jungkook plays along, tilting his head to the side with a playful pout, his lips pursed like he’s posing for a dramatic mugshot.

With a click, the camera flashes, capturing the moment perfectly. A second later, the familiar buzz of the camera sounds as the polaroid slowly rises from the slot at the top. Jimin pulls the photo out, shaking it lightly as the image begins to develop.

“Had no choice,” Jungkook grumbles. “Whatever girlfriend wants, girlfriend gets.”

Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “Bro, you’re so fucking whipped,” he teases.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook mutters, though he can’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “What are you two supposed to be, anyway?”

Jimin looks genuinely offended at the question, pulling his sunglasses back down over his eyes as if that alone should make it obvious. “Hello? Men in Black!”

He points his plastic gun at Jungkook. Beside him, Taehyung pulls out a shiny MIB card.

“Aw, I was really hoping you two would take my advice and go as Dumb and Dumber,” you pout, crossing your arms dramatically.

Jimin and Taehyung exchange offended looks, grimacing at your suggestion.

Jimin puts his plastic gun back in its holster with a flourish, shaking his head. “Respectfully, fuck you,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You playfully lift a hand as if to strike him, your expression mock serious. Just then, more people start to stream into the home, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

“Well, since we are so extremely popular, we’ll meet back up with you guys soon.” Jimin says, turning to Taehyung, “We’ve got more people to greet.”

“Don’t get freaky in any of the bedrooms! I swear on my life I will kill you both,” Taehyung exclaims, shooting a warning glance over his shoulder as he follows Jimin into the crowd.

You roll your eyes, amusement dancing in your gaze.

"Alright, baby, can you take the handcuffs off now, please?" Jungkook whines, eyebrows knitting in genuine discomfort. "My arms are starting to hurt in this position."

"Keep begging like that, maybe I will," you tease, enjoying the playful power dynamic between you two.

Jungkook smirks, leaning in closer to amp up the charm. "Oh, please, officer? I promise I'll be such a good boy,"

You scrunch your nose in exaggerated disapproval. "Never do that again," you reply, trying to sound serious but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckles, the sound warm and inviting, as you turn him around, your fingers brushing against his wrists. The thrill of the moment sends a rush through you as you unlock the cuffs with the small key, the metal clinking softly as you release him.

He turns around, his hands sneaking around your waist and pulling you closer, the warmth of his body igniting a spark of electricity between you. You smile up at him, feeling a thrill at the proximity.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice low and playful. “Now who knows what kind of crimes I’m gonna commit again?” He looks down at you, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Careful, prisoner,” you warn, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t forget, I’m watching you tonight.”

He holds his hands up in mock defense, a grin spreading across his face. “I promise to behave… for now,” he replies, the challenge in his tone clear as he leans in just a little closer.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, and despite your attempt to keep things light, the air feels charged with unspoken tension. “You’d better,” you say, trying to maintain an authoritative tone but failing as a smile breaks through. “I don’t take kindly to rule breakers.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. “But I can’t help it if I’m naturally inclined to break the rules when I’m around you.” With that, he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers, “What if I promised to make it worth your while?”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you step back slightly to meet his gaze, your heart racing. “You’re incorrigible,” you say, shaking your head, but your smile betrays your amusement.

“Only for you,” he quips, and the way he looks at you… you just know this Halloween night was going to be wild.

You stood corrected.

A few drinks into Jungkook's system, and any pretense of annoyance about the costume was long gone. His hands seemed to find your waist every chance they got, fingers tracing the curves of your hips with a needy grip. His lips, once teasing, were now constantly seeking yours, trailing kisses from your neck to your lips whenever you were within arm's reach.

Even in a crowded room, Jungkook's attention was locked on you, his dark gaze following your every movement. And each time you caught him staring, he'd flash you a cheeky grin before pulling you into another heated kiss, making it clear just how much he was enjoying your costume — and the power it had over him.

Getting a drunk Jungkook home was a damn task. The moment you got him in the car, he was all over you. As you navigated through the quiet streets, his fingers slid up your thigh, kneading it with a firm grip that sent sparks of heat racing through you. Each touch made focusing on the road harder, especially when he leaned over the console, his lips grazing your neck in a series of lazy, warm kisses.

"Jungkook, you need to calm down," you warned, trying to keep your focus on the road as his kisses sent shivers down your spine.

He huffed, not wanting to stop but eventually relented, throwing himself back into his seat dramatically. He crossed his arms like a child who'd been denied his favorite toy, his lips forming a deep pout.

You glanced over at him, biting back a smile as he sulked in his seat. "Aw, I’m sorry baby. Almost home, then you can do whatever you want," you teased, knowing full well that his patience would snap the second you both stepped through the front door.

Like a bunny, his ears seemed to perk up at your words, his pout disappearing instantly. He sat back in his seat with a huge grin plastered on his face, the sudden shift in his mood almost comical. It was as if he'd forgotten all about sulking, now fully focused on the promise you'd made.

Surprisingly, Jungkook behaved as you both got out of the car and made your way to your apartment floor. He walked beside you quietly, though the anticipation was clear in the way he kept glancing at you, his grin never fully fading. His restraint was impressive, given how wild he'd been earlier, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment.

The second you unlocked the door, though, all that restraint snapped. Jungkook practically pounced, pushing the door closed behind you as he pressed you against it, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. His hands were everywhere at once — grabbing your waist, pulling you closer, one hand sliding up your back while the other dipped dangerously low.

Your sloppy kisses didn't break for a second as you stumbled through the apartment, laughter and heated breaths filling the air until you reached the bedroom. The second you got to the edge of the bed, Jungkook gave you a playful shove, making you fall back onto the mattress with a grin tugging at his lips. His eyes never left yours as he hovered above you, reconnecting your lips in a feverish kiss, his hunger for you palpable.

His mouth began its slow descent, trailing kisses down the curve of your neck, leaving a warm, tingling path in its wake. When he reached your cleavage, he paused, his lips lingering there as his fingers found the zipper of your bodysuit. With a swift motion, he unzipped it, freeing your breasts from the fabric. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, a low groan escaping his throat.

Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation sent a shudder through your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as your back arched in response. Your hand instinctively found its way into his hair, gripping the soft strands, guiding him as he lavished attention on you.

Jungkook's mouth left your bud with a soft pop, his lips slightly swollen as he looked at you with a mix of desire and admiration. Without wasting a second, he pushed the rest of the bodysuit down your frame, his hands quick and eager as he stripped you of the remaining fabric.

“You seduce all the officers like this?” you tease, your voice light but laced with a hint of challenge as you looked down at him at the foot of the bed.

Jungkook paused for a second, momentarily confused by the question. But then it clicked, and when he realized you were still playing into the roleplay from earlier, his expression shifted. His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, eyes narrowing slightly as he fully embraced the dynamic again.

“Only the ones I can’t resist,” Jungkook murmured, his voice dripping with playful seduction.

His teasing words sent a shiver down your spine, the tension between you both thickening with every passing second. His hands moved with skilled precision as he unzipped your boots, tugging them off one by one. The boots were discarded carelessly, the clatter of them hitting the floor barely registering as Jungkook’s focus remained fixed on you, eyes dark and full of hunger.

With a firm grip, Jungkook tugged at the bodysuit, sliding it off your frame in one fluid motion, the fabric slipping away as easily as the last remnants of his restraint. He didn’t stop there — your fishnets followed quickly, leaving you in nothing but your panties. His gaze devoured you, his eyes darkening with each lingering second on your bare skin. He bit into his bottom lip, his excitement almost palpable as his eyes traced every curve of your body like he was committing each inch to memory.

Grabbing your ankle, he lifted your leg gently, a smirk playing on his lips as he began a slow, deliberate trail of kisses from your ankle up toward your inner thigh. Each kiss sent a jolt of heat through your body, his touch maddeningly slow, teasing you with every lingering press of his lips.

“If you’ll let me,” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and full of promise, before kissing your thigh once more. “I did promise to make it worth your while.”

“Show me what you got, criminal,” you smirk, your voice laced with challenge and desire.

Jungkook’s smirk matched yours, his eyes darkening with intent as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties. In one swift, fluid motion, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding easily over your legs. The second they left your skin, his gaze fixed on the damp spot left behind, a low moan escaping his lips as his hunger for you deepened.

“Look at that,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers traced the wetness left on the cloth before lifting his eyes to meet yours, his smirk widening. “Already so wet for me, officer.”

The playful teasing from earlier had melted away completely, replaced with raw, undeniable need. Without hesitation, Jungkook lowered himself between your legs, his breath hot against your inner thighs. His lips hovered just above your core, his eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time before he leaned in, determined to show you exactly what he had in store. His tongue made the first slow, deliberate pass over your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body.

Your body reacted instinctively to the sensation, arching your back slightly as a soft moan escaped your lips. You melted into the bed, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as waves of pleasure rippled through you, the intensity of it all leaving you breathless. 

It was when he latched his mouth onto your clit, the cool metal of his lip piercing sending shockwaves through your body, that you felt a fresh wave of ecstasy wash over you. Your body shook involuntarily, a reaction to the exquisite pleasure he was delivering.

“So good, baby,” you moaned, your voice breathy and filled with longing as you looked down at the man between your legs. Jungkook’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, dark and smoldering, the corner of his mouth twitching into a playful smirk as he enjoyed your reaction to his ministrations. 

"Yeah?" he mumbled, his lips brushing against your slick heat, sending a shiver up your spine. "Am I a good criminal, officer?"

Though it had started as playful banter back at Jimin and Taehyung’s house, the way Jungkook was slipping into this submissive role now felt different — kind of sexy. The intensity in his voice, the way he was looking up at you, it was doing things to you that you hadn’t quite expected.

You bit your lip, nodding as you reached down, finding his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. "Mhm, so good for me," you whispered, the words coming out more breathless than you intended. The shift in the dynamic added a new layer to the tension between you both, and you couldn’t deny how much you liked it.

He hummed in satisfaction against your skin, his tongue working skillfully, each stroke more deliberate than the last, as if determined to draw every last sound of pleasure from your lips. You could feel the tension building within you, and with every flick and suck, he pushed you further into a state of bliss. The warmth of his mouth, combined with the gentle squeeze of his hand in yours, only heightened the sensations coursing through your body. You could feel yourself unraveling, bit by bit, under his expert touch.

You lift your other hand, your fingers tangling in his soft, raven hair, pushing it back to reveal his forehead. The sight of his knitted eyebrows makes your stomach flip — he always does that when he’s savoring something, and right now, that something is you. Your grip tightens in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing his face deeper into you. His nose brushes against your clit with each motion, and you can't help but buck your hips slightly, your body moving instinctively as you practically ride his face.

Your moans become louder, filling the room with the raw sound of pleasure, almost pornographic in intensity. The way his mouth moves against you, his tongue expertly flicking and teasing, drives you wild. You feel his moans vibrate against your sopping pussy, sending shockwaves through your entire body. The more you push him into you, the more he responds, his hands gripping your thighs as he devours you, thoroughly enjoying every second of it. You’re lost in the heat of the moment, each wave of pleasure building to something inevitable, your body teetering on the edge of bliss.

With one final buck of your hips, his nose pressing firmly against your clit, the pleasure overwhelms you. Your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as you cum against his face. A loud, raw moan tears from your throat, your back arching off the bed as the intensity of your orgasm takes over. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest — if anything, it only drives him further.

He stays right there, nestled between your legs, his tongue continuing to lap up every drop of your release. If he had it his way, he'd happily stay there forever. His hand gently caresses your thighs, soothing you through the aftershocks as your body relaxes, your breathing still ragged as you come down from the high.

Jungkook removes his hand from yours gently, rising up from the floor. Fully clothed, he crawls up the bed, hovering above you with a smirk that sends a thrill down your spine. His mouth glistens with a mix of his saliva and your slick, a tantalizing reminder of what just transpired. 

Without warning, he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the intimacy of the moment amplifying the heat between you. You feel him grinding his hips into your heat, seeking relief for the ache in his cock, and it drives you wild. The friction ignites another wave of desire, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

He leans back down, reconnecting your lips, unable to get enough of you. The urgency in his movements tells you he's craving more, needing the connection as much as you do. Without breaking the kiss, you smoothly shift positions, pushing him back onto the bed. His body sinks into the mattress, and now it's your turn to be on top, looking down at him with a teasing smile. You sit up, fingers working the buttons of his jumpsuit as he watches you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Do good prisoners get anything in return?" he asks, his voice low, teasing.

"Yeah," you say with a smirk. "Freedom."

Your giggle fills the room as Jungkook kisses his teeth in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes at your cheeky response. Still, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, showing he's just as amused as you are.

"I'm sure there's other officers that'll give you something," you tease, your fingers still working on the jumpsuit.

"What if I want someone in particular?" he responds, his tone more serious, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," you murmur.

With a smirk, Jungkook sits up swiftly, his hands making quick work of pulling the jumpsuit off his frame. The fabric falls away, revealing his toned, broad chest — the very sight that always makes your breath hitch. You can't help but admire him for a moment, your eyes roaming over every inch of him, from his sculpted chest to the way his abs tense under your gaze.

He catches the look in your eyes, his grin widening as he notices how you're practically staring. "Like what you see, officer?" he teases.

Ugh, slut.

"You know I do," you reply, your fingers tracing over the tattoos decorating his skin before you press your lips against his again, losing yourself in the kiss as your bodies draw closer.

Your kisses travel south, lips brushing over the warm skin of his neck, chest, and abs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When you kneel between his legs, you can't help but notice how hard he is. A wet spot glistens where he’d been grinding against you earlier, evidence of the friction that’s left you both desperate for more.

"Baby, hurry up," Jungkook whines, his voice thick with impatience, the need evident in his tone.

You raise an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. "Refer to me correctly," you command, wanting to tease him just a little longer.

He chuckles softly. "Officer, please hurry up," he says, playing along, his words dripping with need.

“Good boy,” you coo with a smile.

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his jumpsuit and boxers simultaneously, yanking them down in one swift motion. His cock springs free, hard and eager, the pink tip glistening with precum. It’s begging to be touched, twitching slightly under your gaze as you admire him, and you can feel the heat radiating off him.

You let your hand glide slowly up his thigh, teasing him with featherlight touches, savoring the way his muscles tense under your fingers. Jungkook's head falls back against the mattress, a low, desperate moan slipping from his lips as he exhales, his chest rising and falling with the anticipation building between you.

You giggle softly, enjoying how easily you’re driving him wild. Finally, you wrap your hand around his thick, hard cock, your fingers squeezing his length gently but firmly. His reaction is immediate — his hips buck slightly as he lets out a deep, shaky moan.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he groans, his voice low and husky, the sound making you smile even wider.

You start to stroke him slowly, enjoying the feeling of him pulsing in your hand. His hands grip the sheets, knuckles turning white, and his eyes squeeze shut in bliss. The way he reacts to every little movement you make has you feeling powerful, completely in control.

"My pussy turn you on this much?" you tease, your voice dripping with playfulness, a smirk tugging at your lips as you continue to stroke him slowly, deliberately.

Jungkook's moan deepens, his hips bucking slightly into your hand, completely at your mercy.

"Always," he groans, his voice breathless. "Can never get enough of it."

Such a sweet boy. You reward him by quickening your strokes, picking up the pace and driving him wild. His response is immediate — his body tenses, and a low, guttural moan escapes his lips.

Jungkook's hand darts to yours, gripping the one resting on his thigh, his fingers intertwining with yours tightly. His touch is needy, desperate, as if holding on to you will keep him grounded while the pleasure you’re giving him threatens to overwhelm him.

His breath becomes ragged as you continue working him expertly. He bites his lip, trying to hold himself together under your touch. You can tell he’s getting closer, every stroke pushing him toward the edge.

“W- wanna cum in your pussy, please,” Jungkook whines, his voice trembling with need.

You smirk, teasing him further. “Do you?”

He hums in response, the sound more like a moan, his desperation palpable.

“Okay,” you say, your voice soft but commanding. “Since you’ve been so good for me.”

You pull away from his cock, climbing on top of him, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. Leaning down, you capture his lips with yours, and he responds eagerly, his hands sliding down the arch of your back, gripping your ass tightly, kneading it in his large palms.

Then, without warning, a sudden surge of dominance overtakes him. In one swift move, Jungkook flips you both over, hovering above you with a glint in his eye. He gives you a teasing peck on the lips, but before you can react, he flips you onto your stomach, effortlessly manhandling you as though you weigh nothing.

With your back turned to him, the sound of rustling heightens your anticipation. You can’t see what Jungkook is doing, but the moment you feel his grip on your arm, your heart races. The cold, familiar touch of metal against your wrist makes it clear — he's handcuffing you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as he tightens the cuffs around your other wrist, pulling your arms behind your back. You’re completely at his mercy now, and the vulnerability only fuels the fire between your legs.

“Am I still a good boy?” he teases, his voice dripping with playful mischief.

“Bad boy,” you manage to reply, though the excitement surging through you betrays your words. The restriction, the control — it all makes your pussy throb with need.

The sound of the slap reverberates through the room, sending a sharp sting of pleasure coursing through your body. You jolt forward, moaning in response, your skin tingling from the impact. Jungkook grabs the chain of the handcuffs, pulling on it slightly, adding a thrilling sense of restraint to the moment. 

His other hand grabs his cock, and you feel the deliberate tease as he slaps it against your pussy, spreading your slickness over his length. It’s torturous — how long he’s making you wait. But finally, after what feels like an eternity, he slowly pushes himself inside you. 

You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, while Jungkook releases a low, guttural groan, his breath catching at the sensation of being enveloped by your heat. He pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling, his fingers still gripping the handcuffs. The tension in the air is palpable, each movement sending shivers down your spine as he begins to move, his hips rocking into you with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Your breath comes out in heavy gasps, your face buried in the mattress as his pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with a steady rhythm. The sensation of being filled so completely has you whimpering, your body melting into the bed as you push back against him, craving more with every stroke. Each thrust is more intense than the last, the bed creaking beneath you as the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy echoes through the room.

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the handcuff chain, yanking you back harder onto his cock. “All your other prisoners fuck you this good?” he growls. 

A smirk curls your lips. He’s still milking this roleplay. He doesn’t voice it out, but he feels your pussy clench around him. You like this.

“Only you,” you moan, your voice breathy.

“That’s right,” he groans, his tone low and possessive.

Jungkook's pace quickens, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing through the room, his thrusts relentless. The headboard bangs rhythmically against the wall. He yanks the chain of the handcuffs harder, pulling your body back onto him in sync with every deep, punishing thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, your moans now uncontrollable as the pressure builds to an almost unbearable height. Every drive of his cock inside you sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, his roughness pushing you to the brink. His deep groans mix with your cries, the heat between you reaching its peak, and you can feel yourself getting closer, your climax just within reach.

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he teases, his voice rough and low, dripping with lust. The heat in his tone sends another wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you can only nod, your voice caught in your throat as a moan escapes your lips, barely coherent.

His cock drags against your walls, hitting that perfect spot over and over, each thrust igniting a fire within you. Your body is a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as the pressure coils tighter and tighter inside you, building towards a breaking point.

“Come on then, baby,” he growls, pulling you back hard against him, his grip firm and possessive. “Be a good officer and cum. I deserve it, don’t I?”

“Yes! Yes! You deserve it so much!” you manage to reply, the words spilling from your lips like a prayer.

“I’m such a good boy for you, huh?” he presses, his breath hot against your ear, his hips driving deeper.

“Such a good boy, my baby,” you affirm, your voice trembling with need. 

With a few more final, deep thrusts, your body shudders as the last waves of your sweet release ripple through you, your pussy clenching tightly around him. That tightness pushes Jungkook over the edge, and with a loud, needy moan, he releases into you, his hips faltering as he shoots his load deep inside. His groan fills the room as his cock throbs within you, emptying himself completely, the warmth of his cum spreading through you.

For a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, the heat of the moment still lingering in the air as your bodies stay connected.

Jungkook carefully unlocks the handcuffs, freeing your wrists from the restraints. He tosses them aside, his concern immediately turning to you as he notices the redness on your skin. Gently, he takes your wrists in his hands, massaging them softly, his brows furrowed with worry.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, his voice tender and full of concern.

“No, baby,” you reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, easing the tension he’s holding onto. You give him a few more sweet pecks, including one on his cheek, his boyish charm making you smile.

After cleaning up and peeing to avoid an infection, he helps you settle into bed, pulling you into his arms. His warmth envelops you, his face nestled against your neck, and you feel the soft brush of his breath against your skin. Your arms wrap around him instinctively, holding him close as the moment quiets. The heat from your bodies mingles with the gentle stillness of the room, creating a cocoon of intimacy and comfort that lulls you both toward sleep.

As your eyes grow heavy, his voice breaks the silence, low and a little playful. "I think I enjoyed that costume more than I thought," he murmurs against your neck.

© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.

[gaypeople]

It was my sole duty to distract Lestat, but in his mirrored eyes, the distraction reflected back onto me. And in the dead center of the whispering gallery, I lost the thread to my plotting and fell once more into the well with no bottom. I was his, and he was mine.

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE - 1.07 “The Thing Lay Still”

[livebeforeyoulearn]

Safe in Her Arms

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Use of safe word, Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Alexia goes a little too far and cares for you after.

Request

-

Alexia's lips latch onto your neck, branding the tender skin again and again, each press hot and possessive. Her mouth moves with unrestrained hunger, grazing, sucking, her tongue gliding over the bruised spots. She feels like a vampire lost to desire, marking you as hers, and each time her teeth scrape or her lips suckle, you gasp beneath her, arching into her body. 

“Another?” Her words come close to a tease, yet they’re a question too, just as much as a request. You hum in reply, words failing you, reduced to the basic sound that’s enough to make her smirk. 

She shifts, lifting herself up to her knees, her eyes locking onto you in that potent way that leaves you feeling bare, vulnerable, but willing. Your legs are spread wide open for her, aching and receptive, and you’re not sure how many times she’s had you like this tonight – maybe the fifth, or the sixth? Your body is worn and sensitive, surrendering to her insatiable rhythm with a desperation that mirrors her own. But how could you deny her?

“Remember your word, bebé?” she whispers, and you manage a nod. She studies you, intent. “Tell me, I need to know you remember.”

“Red,” you manage, a whisper from hoarse lips. 

She hums in approval, her lips curving into yet another smirk, seemingly thrilled by your surrender. "Good," she murmurs, her gaze intense, devouring you whole. Her hands grip your thighs, keeping you open, exposed, as her eyes drink in the sight of you, desire deepening in her gaze. “Still want me so bad, huh? Have I not given you enough already?” she teases, her voice dripping with a possessive pride that leaves you trembling.

Your response is a helpless whimper, and she leans back, her hand finding the strap, sliding along its length to coat it with the traces of earlier pleasure before guiding it towards you. You can feel her gaze on you, taking in every subtle movement, every little sound you make as she drags the tip of it through your folds.

“Alexia, please,” you beg, voice breaking on the edge of a whine, every inch of you hyperaware of each movement. Her grin only widens, slow and dangerous, as she relishes in making you beg, enjoying every second that she has you at her mercy.

When she finally presses forwards, the tip stretching you in a way that’s both familiar and fresh, your mouth falls open, a strangled moan escaping as she fills you once more. You’re tight, your body trembling, and the pressure makes your eyes roll back, lost in the feeling she draws from you. Her eyes are locked between your legs, completely lost in how you take her; entranced. Her breaths are shallow as she watches your body open up to her touch, every inch of her consuming you.

Her movements start slow as she leans down, her fingers threading through yours, pinning your hands beside your head, trapping you under her as her hips find a steady rhythm. You glance up at her, catching sight of her torso, her abs flexing with each thrust. The sight alone is enough to make you melt, your body responding with even more need. Her eyes trail up your body, taking in every inch before she lowers her mouth to your chest, her lips catching one of your sensitive nipples. Each suck and bite, each motion is precise and demanding, pushing you further until your mind is hazy.

“Ale,” you moan, voice cracking as she moves faster, her rhythm intense, her own need apparent in the way she holds herself. “Fuck,” each thrust sends you reeling, caught between pain and pleasure, unsure where one sensation ends and the other begins, and yet you crave it all, maybe even crave for it to stop, though you can't quite tell anymore. Everything blurs together, and all you can do is feel.

You tighten your grip around her hands, nails pressing into her skin, and she responds with a groan, dragging her teeth along your chest, a teasing nip that makes you cry out. She watches, caught in her own pleasure, your hips lifting despite the overwhelming ache. Her body presses you down, her control firm as she whispers praises, “Ho estas fent molt be, mi princesa.” 

She slips one hand free from your grasp, sliding it down to steady your hips as her thumb begins tracing slow, agonising circles over your sensitive clit. Your free hand drifts down to her abdomen, fingertips pressing firmly along the defined lines of her abs. Your nails rake against her skin, leaving faint, heated crescents in their wake, a breath escaping her lips as she feels each trace you leave behind.

“Mira’t,” she husks. “Taking me so well.”

Her thumb presses harder against you, and as her lips capture yours in a messy, needy kiss, your mind spins. You can feel that familiar heat building, intensifying as she pushes you to the edge one final time until everything snaps, sending you headlong into bliss. Your vision fades, your senses numbing, body going limp. As the waves of ecstasy wash over you, her lips trail down your jawline to your neck, kissing and sucking with fervent desire. Each soft bite sends goosebumps across your skin, pulling you deeper as she explores the sensitive curve of your throat. 

But just as fast as the pleasure washes over you, it shifts – the sharp edge turning from sweet to searing, the sensation that once held you captive now pressing painfully against every nerve.

“Alexia, red, red, red,” you gasp out, voice faint but urgent. She stops instantly, her entire body stilling above you, her breath a sharp intake as she processes the word. She freezes, her lips still pressed to your neck, her hips halted, her breathing heavy as she lets you both catch up, her chest rising and falling in time with yours.

Then, softly, she whispers, “Amor?” Her voice is gentle, a hint of unease beneath the concern. “I’m going to pull out, okay?”

You manage a faint nod, the lingering pleasure melting away as she withdraws carefully, her hand gentle on your stomach, stroking softly as she helps you come down. The bed shifts, the quiet rustling of fabric filling the silence as she slips out of the harness, discarding it with little thought as she watches you with concern.

Exhausted, you roll onto your stomach, burying your face in the pillow. The scent of her skin lingers there, familiar and comforting, and you let yourself breathe, willing your body to relax as the ache fades.

In moments, she’s beside you again, settling on the bed and pulling you close. Her hand finds your face, her thumb wiping away a tear that’s slipped free. She’s quiet, waiting until you’re ready to meet her gaze, and when you do, her expression softens, a tender worry in her eyes.

“Are you okay, mi amor?” Her voice is soft, almost pained. “Did I go too far?”

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, your voice so faint, almost uncertain, feeling the exhaustion seep into every word. “I just need a moment.”

She nods, her face relaxing with a soft sigh, “No rush, mi amor,” she says, her arms encircling you as she guides you on top of her body. Her fingers trail softly across your back, drawing gentle, soothing patterns that steady you, and her lips press delicate kisses to your forehead. 

You stay on top of her for a while, savouring the warmth of her body beneath you, her skin like silk under your fingertips. Your cheeks feel flushed, a faint embarrassment creeping in. It’s not the kind that feels shameful, but it’s enough to make you aware of just how exposed you feel. Admitting you needed to stop, even to her, feels vulnerable, like peeling back an extra layer of yourself and laying it bare for her to see. But you know she’d never judge you; she understands more than anyone. Yet, lying here, pressed against her, it’s impossible to ignore the gentle ache in your chest.

Her chest rises in a deep, slow breath beneath you, and the motion stirs you from the peaceful fog you’d nearly drifted into. Your eyes flutter open, taking in the dim light of the room. Her fingers, once tracing soft, soothing circles along your back, now lie still, her hand resting gently against you. Her lips are pressed firmly to your forehead, her breath soft against your skin. You feel her inhale, breathing you in as if memorising the moment, and it fills you with a strange, quiet peace. Your fingers draw a soft circle against her chest before you find your voice.

“Can we go shower?” The words come out rough, your voice betraying how tired and raw you feel. 

“Of course,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss before she carefully shifts, guiding both of you upright. You slide off her lap as she sits, her hands steady on you, her gaze tender. When she looks at you, her eyes seem to cradle you, holding you in that soft gaze that always undoes you. She leans forwards, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s gentle and sweet, as if speaking the words she doesn’t need to say. When she pulls away and rises to her feet, she reaches a hand towards you.

She pauses when you don’t immediately move, a faint smile playing at her lips. With a gentle shake of her head, she steps closer. “Come on, I will carry you,” she says softly, amusement and love mingling in her tone.

A shy smile tugs at your lips as you scoot to the edge of the bed, letting her arms slip around you. She lifts you with such ease that you cling to her, feeling the need to be close. You nestle against her, and she seems to sense your desire to be held, pulling you even closer, her lips brushing soft kisses against your neck and shoulder as she carries you to the bathroom.

She sets you down on the cool countertop, and you watch as she moves to turn on the shower, the steam slowly beginning to fill the room. When she returns to you, her palms rest on your thighs, her fingers drawing soft trails along your skin. Her gaze is thoughtful, her eyes tracing over your face with an intensity that makes you wonder what she’s searching for. But her touch, her closeness, is reassuring, reminding you of the trust that exists between you, even in this moment of unfamiliar vulnerability.

Neither of you has ever had to use the safe word before, and you both feel the weight of it, unspoken but there. You know it isn’t her fault – she hadn’t meant to push you past what you were comfortable with. And she did exactly what she should have, stopping the moment you uttered the word, letting the trust between you remain intact. You take a steady breath, grateful for her presence, for how deeply you trust her, and for her respect towards you and your boundaries.

She blinks a few times, her gaze softening as she seems to pull herself back into the present. Her fingers tighten around your thighs for a moment before she nods towards the shower. You give her a look that says enough, and she laughs softly, stepping forwards to help you down.

She slips into the shower first, letting the water run over her as she tilts her head back, closing her eyes in peaceful surrender to the warmth. “Amor, quick, it is lonely without you,” she calls, her voice carrying through the gentle rush of water.

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts, and slowly step into the shower. Your limbs feel heavy, the emotional exhaustion mingling with the physical, but she immediately pulls you close, her lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. She reaches for the shampoo, her hands finding their way into your hair, fingers working with such tenderness it nearly takes your breath away. Each touch feels purposeful, soft and attentive, as she washes away the remnants of the night, the lingering weight of the moment. She treats you with a gentleness that makes you feel fragile but safe, a softness that assures you she’ll handle every part of you with care.

When the soap is rinsed away, and you’re both just standing there under the cooling water, she wraps her arms around you from behind, her head resting on your shoulder. You let your hands fall over her forearms, anchoring her close, the moment both grounding and comforting.

“I’m sorry for making you stop,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the soft patter of water. “I know you were enjoying it.”

She frowns, her face immediately softening as she turns you around, pulling you closer. Your arms instinctively wrap around her shoulders as hers tighten around your waist.

“No, you did exactly what you should’ve done. Thank you for trusting me,” she says, her voice tender, her eyes filled with sincerity that warms you from the inside.

You look down, feeling a flicker of embarrassment you can’t quite name. “Thank you for stopping,” you whisper, a touch of shyness creeping into your tone.

She lifts your chin gently, her thumb brushing against your skin as she meets your gaze. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed, I promise. I am happy you told me to stop. Otherwise, I would’ve hurt you more, sí?”

You nod, your heart easing under her soft reassurance. She gives you a tender smile before leaning in to press her lips to yours, the kiss unhurried and filled with a quiet love.

You stay like that, bodies tangled in soft kisses and gentle caresses, each touch a wordless promise. They never evolve into anything more, remaining innocent and comforting. In that restraint, you feel a respect and care from her that makes your heart ache in the best way. She’s understanding, patient, and everything you need in this moment. It’s one of the many reasons you love her.

As the water finally begins to cool, she shivers and quickly reaches to turn it off, both of you chuckling softly. She’s quick to wrap you in a towel, drying you off with the same care, and once she’s dressed, she helps you into something comfortable before guiding you back to bed.

Under the soft covers, she pulls you close, her arms wrapping around you with gentle insistence. Her fingers trace light patterns along your back, and she whispers soft, comforting words, each one slowly lulling you to peace. She brings a steady sense of tranquility as she lays against you, and as your eyes grow heavy, you feel nothing but safe, loved, and secure in her embrace. She follows you into sleep not long after, holding you close through the night.

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Astarion When You're Injured•°

On the one hand, oh no, his beloved is hurt.

On the other, gods is he turned on.

Now if you were actually at deaths door, that would be different.

Astarion would be a nervous, furious, tear stained wreck. Worrying that he'd lose the single most important thing in his cursed existence.

The one thing that truly matters in his life. You.

But, if you're injured from just the run of the mill scrapes you get yourself into? Well that's fair game for him to be horny as all hell.

The way you wince when you roll up your shirt, a stab wound gouged into your abdomen.

How the blood trickles down to your breeches and stains your flesh, the crimson glinting in the slant of moonlight coming in from your partially open tent...

He'll feel his pants grow tight.

"Darling, I know you're injured and probably aren't in the mood but I must say you look positively scrumptious right now."

Astarion will watch you like a hawk as you stumble about your tent, looking for alcohol, bandages, a needle and thread.

The way you bite your lip to stifle yet another whimper, the sweet scent of your blood in the air. He licks his lips.

Oh, he could just eat you right up.

"Kitten, you've got to stop whimpering and groaning unless you want me to ravage you this instant."

When Astarion sees you go to clean yourself up though, he'll be absolutely affronted.

"Ah, ah. Don't you dare grab that rag, my dear. Have you forgotten about little old me? I could clean the blood off of you far better."

He'll say, sinking down to his knees before you. Have no fear though, the vampire will lick your wound til not a single leaking drop of your blood is left.

"This really gets you going?"

You'll ask, bracing your hands upon his shoulders for balance, your skin tingling from his attentive mouth. He's so skilled that you've nearly forgotten about the pain. Nearly.

"Well, my sweet, I could do without the you getting stabbed part but how can I resist when you're dripping red in front of me? You don't know the effect you have on me."

Astarion won't be selfish enough to ask you to take care of the little, well big, problem in his pants however.

He loves you dearly and he is here to help, in anyway he can.

You are injured and he understands that what you need from him isn't unbridled passion but sincere affection.

He will offer to stitch you up himself, seeing as your wound is in an awkward position and you can't really see it unless you're in front of a mirror.

The pale elf will tell you to lie down while he practically straddles you to get closer to the afflicted area.

Crimson eyes twinkling, fangs pearly and white as he smiles but he'll be gentle.

Threading through your raw skin carefully and giving your thigh a few affirming squeezes with his other hand when you gasp.

"See, pet? Aren't I just the best lover you've ever had? Flesh isn't so different from fabric and my stitches are perfect, wouldn't you say?"

Afterwards he'll wrap your stomach in bandages and get you anything you need.

Medicine to make you feel better and of course, all the recuperation time you need.

So much so that if the others in your camp need you that he will shove them out of your tent and order them to leave you be.

You'll not be leaving your bed for awhile that's for sure. Not while he's here to act as your nurse.

When you ask him to lay in bed with you, Astarion will give you one of his rare, tender smiles. Genuine with no mischief.

The fact that you need him and want him near is still a marvel to him.

It warms his ice cold spawn heart.

Makes him feel things he hasn't felt in 200 years.

"Oh, alright. My body is yours, in more ways than one."

Astarion will joke, flirtatious smirk slotting back into place along his mouth but he'll slip into bed without a fuss.

Your head resting on his chest, him mindful of your wrapped up abdomen.

Once you've had your medicine, rejuvenating sleep will call to you but before that you whisper how much you love him. Your words quiet in the night, against his ruffled shirt.

He'll hear you all the same and it disarms him.

"I love you too, sweetheart. You have to learn to be more thoughtful of yourself. Can't have you dying on me, now can I?"

Astarion's voice velvet, his fingers tracing abstract patterns along your back.

In his comforting embrace your eyelids droop, the pain a distant throb that you wish to have pass. His cold chest soothing against your flushed, exhausted cheek.

He'll pull you even closer, if that's possible and kiss the crown of your head.

"Sleep now, darling. I'll be here with you. Always."

[branwinged]

the magnus archives is a romcom—no what the hell it's not. it is, however, a gothic horror romance between jon and elias. because you see, the thing about jonelias is that their canonical dynamic is built around an absurd number of gothic genre tropes. jon sims obviously fits the mold of the tortured gothic protagonist quite nicely who's facing both external (the other avatars targeting him) and internal horrors (his progress as the Archivist weighing on his conscience). but he's also trapped in the gothic manor which is the magnus institute. there are secrets (the place being a temple to the eye), locked doors, forbidden chambers, and bodies in the attic which serve as evidence of past misdeeds (the panopticon; gertrude and jonah's bodies in the tunnels), the institute/archives is ultimately destroyed by fire - purging the gothic manor i.e. the symbolic destruction of the previous order with fire is a common motif in the genre. and jon's work in the archives is haunted by the figurative ghost of gertrude who remains a curious mystery he must unravel and will serve as a constant reminder to jon of his own inadequacies (just like du maurier's rebecca fr)

elias is then —

1) his personal bluebeard figure who murdered his predecessor, a comparison which only gets stronger with the jonah magnus reveal since he's been cycling through archivists for two hundred years, all having met gruesome ends in service to him and jon being his final and most notable choice. are you seeing the maxim de winter rochester imagery. are you.

2) his gothic double. doubles as a literary trope are your hidden self made manifest, the horror lies in the double (elias) revealing the gothic protagonist's (jon) hidden, true self to them. elias as an avatar of the eye is entirely unrepentant for his nature, he revels in it. which is a mirror to jon's own self-flagellation because despite how much he feels torn about his own metaphorical vampirism, he likes it. he admits as much to gerry as early as s3 when asked about his feelings on his ability to compel truths. and why wouldn't he! after being kept in the dark so long, why wouldn't he like it? and jon and jonah had in common their natural curiosity even before they found the beholding. elias is a mirror and jon looks in it and sees someone who is him, but not quite. someone who is what jon would be if he could simply let go, but jon can't. like most gothic protagonists he will kill his double because it is a reminder of a self-truth he can never escape.

and watcher's call. like what even is that. what do you mean that's a thing. what. literally wuthering heights. "why did you heed the call?" // "because this is the place i know i should be" <- normal dialogue to write for two guys definitely not starring in a gothic romance.

^ same genre of images. so the spider, the mother of puppets, the web which is the symbolic representation of narrative thread in the magnus archives universe WEAVED them together? red string fated, that's what they are? so they're soulmates. that's what you're saying. they're literally soulmates. soulmates as existential horror? just enough of an illusion of narrative agency for jonah/elias to claim, "the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose" but paradoxically joined by fate, which isn't a good thing! because no god-like powers of hope, or love, or indigestion, or whatever, only fear. because even though both help the other achieve narrative self-actualisation (elias making jon the archive and jon making elias the king of a ruined world), their union also irrevocably destroys their lives as they hurt each other in deeply personal ways which signify their greatest fears. elias manipulating jon, whose biggest fear is mr spider, i.e. loss of control and jon repaying by being the very thing that kills jonah, who has spent multiple lifetimes trying to escape the end. and that's romance <3

[moonselune]

Could I please request headcanons or a Drabble for postgame Tailor!Astarion x reader? The worms are eating my brain I can’t stop thinking about him pinning dresses on his s/o with a measuring tape round his neck

The brain worms entered my head as well upon reading this

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tailor!Astarion xf!reader | The Most Beautiful Mannequin

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion worked with a meticulous grace, his hands sure and steady as they roamed over your body, pinning fabric here and there. It was strange, to see him in this domestic light. Gone was the battle-hardened vampire spawn with his daggers and shortswords in hand, now replaced by a man who had found peace in the art of tailoring, his fingers just as deft with needle and thread as they’d been with blades.

The light of the afternoon sun spilled through the window of your shared home, bathing the room in a warm glow. You stood in front of the mirror, dressed in little more than the fabric he’d carefully draped over you, while Astarion worked around you like an artist with his masterpiece.

He was muttering something to himself, eyes narrowed in concentration as he adjusted the hem of the dress. A length of measuring tape hung around his neck, and a handful of pins were tucked between his lips, their metallic gleam catching the light. Every now and then, he’d pluck one from his mouth and secure a fold of fabric, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a shiver up your spine.

“You know,” he said around the pins, his voice slightly muffled but still carrying that familiar, teasing lilt, “this would go much faster if you could stay still for even half a minute.”

“I’m trying,” you protested, though the soft laugh that followed betrayed your amusement. “It’s not easy when you keep poking me with pins.”

“Well, if you didn’t wriggle so much, my dear, I wouldn’t have to poke you,” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he removed the pins from his mouth and placed them on a nearby table. “Honestly, you’d think you’d never been fitted for a dress before.”

“Not by someone like you,” you murmured, letting your eyes linger on him for a moment. He wore a simple linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing the pale, smooth skin of his forearms, and there was a casual elegance to him that made your heart skip a beat.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he replied with a smirk, though you could see the faint flush that crept up his neck. “Now, arms up. I need to see how this falls.”

You obliged, lifting your arms as he instructed, and he stepped closer, his body brushing against yours as he adjusted the fabric over your shoulders. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the gentle press of his fingers as they smoothed out a crease. His touch was so light, so careful, as if he was afraid that one wrong move might tear the delicate material—or perhaps tear you.

He took a step back, scrutinizing his work with a critical eye, before making another adjustment, his fingers brushing against your waist.

“Much better,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “You know, I must say, you do make for quite the lovely mannequin.”

“Mannequin?” you repeated, giving him a mock glare. “I didn’t realize I’d been reduced to nothing more than a glorified coat hanger.”

“Well, if you could refrain from moving every other second, perhaps I could start seeing you as something more,” he teased, his lips quirking into that familiar, devilish grin. “But alas, you’re not making it easy, darling.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable,” he shot back without missing a beat, stepping closer once more.

This time, his hands rested on your hips, his touch lingering, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he leaned in, his breath ghosting against your ear.

“Besides,” he murmured, “it’s not every day I get to play dress-up with the most beautiful person in all the realms.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely.

“You’re incorrigible,” you muttered.

“And yet, you adore me,” he replied smugly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck before he pulled away to continue his work.

For a while, you stood there in comfortable silence, letting him work his magic. Every so often, you’d catch him stealing glances at you in the mirror, a soft, almost tender expression crossing his face before he quickly masked it with that practiced smirk. It was those moments that made your heart ache with affection, that reminded you just how much he’d changed, how far you’d both come since the days of endless battles and bloodshed.

“There,” he said finally, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “What do you think?”

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, your breath catching in your throat. The dress was exquisite, the fabric hugging your body in all the right places, the cut and stitching flawless. It was a work of art, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it suited you, as if it had been made for you—and in a way, it had.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, turning to face him, your eyes shining with gratitude. “You’re amazing, Astarion.”

He shrugged, though you could see the pride in his eyes, the way his chest puffed out just a little.

“Well, I do try,” he said, though his voice was softer now, more genuine. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” you corrected, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “And I love you.”

He blinked, his eyes widening slightly before he let out a soft laugh, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Always so sentimental,” he teased, though there was no bite to his words, only warmth. “But for once, I suppose I’ll allow it.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “For everything.”

He hummed, a pleased sound rumbling in his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Anything for you, darling,” he murmured against your lips, his eyes shining with a love that made your heart feel like it might burst. “Anything at all.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh I actually adore Tailor!Astarion so much, and I hope you guys adore him too! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[wheels-of-despair]

The Best $7 Eddie Munson Ever Spent Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: In the fall of 1983, Eddie bought something he thought was cool… but he didn't realize how important it was until a year later. Contains: Uncle Wayne, shopping, time-jumping, snuggles, a little bit of Eddie and Evil Woman's early days. Words: 1.3k

The best $7 Eddie Munson ever spent was at a thrift store just outside of Hawkins, Indiana, in the fall of 1983.

But he didn't know it until a year later.

The night before his Uncle Wayne disappeared for Thanksgiving - the man had worked overtime on every holiday he could, since he'd determined that Eddie could take care of himself - he slapped $40 on the kitchen table between their TV dinners.

"Wha'sis for?" Eddie asked through a mouthful of noodles.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

Eddie swallowed and repeated, "What's this for?"

"Sales everywhere on Friday. Go get yourself a new coat, it's supposed to be a bad winter. And a pair of gloves that still has the damn fingers in them. Looks like I'm raisin' a hobo."

"Does not," Eddie mumbled as he swirled his fork around the pasta in his bowl. He liked his old coat… even though it was faded. And coming apart at the seams in a few places. And the cuffs were so frayed, every time he tried putting it on, his fingers got caught in the threads. And there was that hole from when he'd gotten caught on a chain-link fence during a high-speed getaway. But he'd patched it! And the gloves he'd cut the fingers out of were cool!

Wayne looked up from the piece of bread he was buttering to give his nephew a pointed stare.

"Fine," Eddie gave in. "Thanks, Uncle Wayne."

"Yeah, yeah." The old man's eyes twinkled as he waved off his nephew's thanks and took another bite.

Being a practical and frugal-minded teen, Eddie started the search for a coat at his favorite thrift store.

"Hey, kid," greeted George, the store's owner, who barely looked up from the battered Tupperware he was sticking price tags on. "Just got a pile of 8-tracks, haven't even priced 'em yet, you interested?"

"Business before pleasure," Eddie grinned at the gray-haired man. "I come seeking winter-wear."

"Winter-wear, huh? Good call. Heard it's gonna be a rough one."

"Yeah, that's what my uncle said, too," Eddie nodded.

"Check the back wall, might be somethin' back there that'll fit ya."

"Thanks!" Eddie carefully treaded through the crowded aisles of discarded treasures and found the wall of outerwear. He flipped through cheap plastic hangers holding neon windbreakers, matted fake fur, and load of crunchy raincoats that reeked of cheaper cigarettes than his. And then… he found it.

It was long, and black, and it was way too big for him.

But when he put it on and turned around, it swished around his calves and made him feel like a vampire in a cloak.

Eddie walked to the grubby mirror leaned up against the wall and checked himself out. It was whole. Almost new, even. It was warm, and he could easily fit it on over the lighter leather jacket and battle vest he wore year-round. He lifted his arms out, and the fabric rippled to his sides. He reached for the edges and pulled them away from his body, holding them out to see just how big the coat was.

It made him look like a bat.

He lifted the paper price tag attached to a button-hole by a string.

$10? Sold.

He twirled in the mirror, watching the fabric rustle and sway around him like a creature of the night. He held up an arm to cover his mouth, like he was hiding his fangs. Yep. This is it. This is the one.

He took it off and draped it over his shoulder, deciding to see if any cool t-shirts had arrived since last he'd looked. He sorted through the rack quickly. Nothing new, but you can't win 'em all.

Eddie returned to the front with the coat, and George laughed when he spotted it. "Kid, I could fit five of you in that thing."

"I like it," Eddie grinned. "It's roomy. How 'bout those 8-tracks?"

George heaved the box full of newly acquired 8-tracks onto the counter so Eddie could dig through them. It was mostly show tunes and Christmas music, but he enjoyed the hunt nonetheless.

"Nothin'?" George asked when Eddie looked up.

Eddie shook his head. "A Partridge Family Christmas isn't really my style."

George laughed and scribbled ".50 each" on the flap of the cardboard box. "Will you find a spot for that in the front window?"

"Yessir." Eddie picked up the hefty box and walked it to the front of the store. He moved some creepy dolls and nudged a red tricycle aside to make room, placed the box down with the price facing the window, and returned to the counter.

"Just the coat, then?"

"Yessir."

"$7."

"$7?" Doesn't the tag say $10?

"That thing takes up too much room. I can fit four more in its place."

Eddie grinned and passed his cash to the man behind the counter.

"I'd ask if you want a bag, but I don't think I have any I could fit that monstrosity in," George teased as he handed Eddie his change.

"Thanks, George," Eddie laughed and collected his coat. "See ya soon."

"Stay warm, kid."

The morning Wayne came home from his long and tiring holiday stretch, he found far more change than he'd expected on the table, two pairs of new gloves… and a hulking mass of black draped over the back of a chair.

Wayne picked up the coat and held it out in front of him, marveling at its size. Well, it was warm, didn't have any holes in it, and clearly hadn't cost an arm and a leg. He folded it and put it back where he found it, spotting a note underneath the cash.

"Coat was $7. It'll come in handy when I finally become a vampire."

Wayne snorted.

"Gloves were buy one, get one free. I can show you how to cut the fingers out of yours if you want to look as cool as me."

He rolled his eyes at the boy snoring down the hall, put down the note, and started getting ready for bed.

"Why is it so fucking cold? I'm freezing my balls off."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend of three months in the Hawkins High parking lot. Most of the sensible students went on inside when it was this cold, but his girl - who hated this place as much as he did - decided to stick it out with him outside until the bell rang and forced them in.

"Shut up, you know what I mean." Her eyes rolled and her teeth chattered.

He checked his watch - seven minutes before the bell - and took one last drag off his cigarette. He exhaled as he dropped the butt on the ground and put it out with a twist of his boot.

"Wanna go in?"

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. Stubborn.

"C'mere, then." Eddie unbuttoned the massive black coat he'd bought the year before - now decorated with band buttons on the lapels - and held it open to her. Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Come on," he urged.

She looked at him suspiciously. Shit, was this weird? Was inviting your girl into a coat cocoon more of a six-month thing? And then she walked into him. He wrapped his arms and his coat around them both and felt her relax against him almost instantly. She slowly slid her arms around his middle and rested her head in the crook of his neck. Oh god, oh god, did she just nuzzle her cheek into him?!?

Eddie was glad she couldn't see the grin on his face. He tilted his head down and let his hair fall around his face so no one else could see it either. He leaned his cheek against her head and inhaled the scent of her, closing his eyes and wishing the bell would never ring so they could stay just like this forever.

What had George said the day he bought this coat? That he could fit five people in there?

Eddie was quite happy with just two.

[starryjuicebox]

Pull My Strings

Pairing: (Soft) Ascended!Astarion x F!Reader Word Count: 2.1k Warning: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Creampie. Fluff and smut.

Summary: A special day in your life with Astarion.

Another day in paradise—the sun kisses your pale skin as it greets the world in a dazzling hello. Beside you, your lover stirs, opening a bleary crimson eye. “Good morning, darling.” 

You run a hand through his soft white curls, laughing a little. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” 

While Astarion didn’t really “sleep”, over the many years you had been together, he seemed to have grown more relaxed in his trances with you by his side. 

Unlike you, he was still very much not a morning person; evidenced by his burrowing back underneath the cozy covers of your shared bed. You cuddle up to him, frigid skin absorbing the warmth from his body. Long since used to this behavior (though he had nearly jumped out of his own skin the first time you snuggled after his ascension), he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on the top of your head. 

“It’s a special day today,” you tell him excitedly. 

He merely hums in response, stroking your hair. “Is that so? And what’s so special about today?” 

The nerve! How could he have forgotten? You stare at him, mouth open, before turning away. The two of you had lived together for so long, why had he forgotten this year? Throughout the millennia that you and Astarion had lived in Baldur’s Gate, you had witnessed the rapid advancement of technology and society. The world around you changed so much, but every year on this day, he always had something special planned just for you. 

Astarion’s hands come to rest on your hips, before pulling you flush against him. You can feel the hard outline of his length pressing into your clothed core. “My love, what’s gotten you so upset?” Astarion croons into your ear, grinding against you. 

Your lips curve downward into a pout. “I’m struggling to come up with an idea for my next book. I was supposed to announce the summary today.” 

That was only a half-truth. While inspiration did elude you for the time being, your lover’s ignorance was a far greater crime. You celebrated your birthday together every year, and yet Astarion seemed to have completely forgotten this time! 

“We could come up with some…ideas together,” his voice drips with honey as he pinches one of your nipples through the fabric of your nightgown. 

Frowning, you push his hands away and sit up. If he wasn’t going to celebrate your birthday with you, at least you could get some work done. That would mean spending your day productively, even if your stupid vampire lord husband had forgotten. 

Grabbing your tablet off the nightstand, you open a document and begin typing out some potential story threads in an impromptu brainstorming session. Sex pollen, maybe? Ugh, no. That one had already been done plenty of times. Beach sex? No thanks, just thinking about sand in your vagina made you cringe. 

“That’s a ‘big ass’ iPad, my dark consort,” Astarion says, interrupting your thoughts and looking over your shoulder to see what you’re doing. Though his speech and mannerisms did not change no matter how much time passed, you did try to do your part in teaching him the more…updated lingo. 

You stifle your laughter. “A present from you, two years ago.” 

A birthday present to be more precise. 

Despite your hint, Astarion the Ascendant Ignoramus does not seem to get it, and merely hums. 

You stare at the document. The mostly blank page stares back at you. 

“Fuck it,” you grumble, powering off the device. You couldn’t just will good ideas into existence, so you might as well get a start on the day. 

Heading over to the massive walk-in closet, you gasp as a beautiful ensemble greets you. A red and black corset dress paired with a puff-sleeved bolero jacket hangs neatly in front of the mirror. Both pieces are exactly your size, and have clearly been designed with you in mind. Matching platform boots with a silver bat accessory sit beside the outfit, and you scratch your head. How long has this been here? You call out over your shoulder, “Hey, when did you get this for me? I love it!”

“Anything for you, my darling,” comes his cool response. Your question remains unanswered.

“Well…thank you.” This was certainly a surprise, but since he hadn’t even mentioned your birthday, it surely was a fluke. Astarion often surprised you with random presents anyway. Once upon a time, the gifts had been difficult for you to accept, but over the years, Astarion had worn you down. Spoiling you was very much one of his love languages. There were never any strings attached, and no expectation of something in return. 

You try on the outfit, and it seems to have been tailored exactly for you. A very tiny ‘A.A.’ is stitched onto the inside, and warmth floods your heart. Astarion hadn’t just ordered the clothing for you; he’d made it. That made the present all the more special. 

When you walk over to the vanity, a brand new eyeshadow palette immediately catches your eye. Suspicion floods your mind. What is going on? The brand is one of your very favorites. Most of the palette consists of beautiful neutral colors that match most of the clothing you own, but there were also gorgeous duochrome shades as well. 

“Sublime, just like you, darling.” 

You whirl around to see Astarion leaning against the wall with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“What’s the occasion?” Did you dare to hope that he had remembered? 

“There has to be a special reason to give my treasure gifts she deserves?” 

The disappointed sigh in your throat is swallowed down. It wouldn’t be right to seem ungrateful, after all; these were really thoughtful presents. “Thank you.” 

Carefully fixing your makeup (and definitely indulging in the brand new palette), you turn to select your favorite perfume and gasp softly. An unfamiliar heart-shaped pink glass bottle only labeled “Little Love” grabs your attention. A soft voice whispers in your ear, “smeared lipstick and warm, flushed skin—vanilla, orris root, violet, sugar, cetalox, skin musk, and safraleine. Scents that remind me of you, my love. Go on, give it a try.” 

Spraying some on your wrist, you delicately sniff the concoction. “Oh!” It smells exactly as Astarion had described. You love it. 

“I made it; I really did miss my calling as a perfumer,” he drawls, examining his nails. 

“...Thank you.” You didn’t want to inflate his already massive ego any more, but these presents were really nice. It was also pretty strange that they appeared all at once. Did you just miss them before? That wouldn’t be possible, right? 

Dabbing the perfume on your other wrist, you carefully close the bottle and stand up to fix some breakfast. 

“No dry oats for you today, darling. I already have something just for you.” 

How had he reached the kitchen ahead of you? Astarion stands there, holding a massive cake, topped with a single candle. Three tiers of rainbow-flecked vanilla birthday cake, layers of creamy frosting and crunchy crumbs, each topped with rainbow sprinkles. It is absolutely ridiculous to just have between the two of you. But it’s your favorite, and you know he ordered it just for you. 

“Happy Birthday, my dear.” 

Your hands fly to your mouth. The silly man was just pretending he had forgotten all about your birthday this whole time? 

While you are busy contemplating how to both smack and kiss him at the time, he pulls you into his arms and sits down, placing you onto his lap.

“Open your mouth, little love.” 

Astarion cuts a slice of cake for you and feeds it to you. It tastes like a little piece of heaven. 

“...I thought you’d forgotten,” you admit, after swallowing the bite of cake. 

“Oh, you wound me!” He places a hand on his chest theatrically. “I would never forget such an important day.” 

You smile at him. Other than his nonchalant behavior earlier today (which had clearly been just to tease you), he was right; he had never forgotten any of your birthdays. 

After you finish the slice of cake, he places the rest of it into the refrigerator. “Now, pet, let’s play a little game.” 

“Oh? What game?” 

Over the course of the millenia you had been with him, there were all sorts of little games and activities you two had to keep things fresh and interesting. 

“You’ll try to chase me, and if you catch me…I’ll give you another present.” 

You nod. “It’s on, then.” 

This would be a breeze for you; you had always been faster than him to begin with. 

His lithe form shifts into one of a small black bat. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!” You cry out, as Bat-starion takes off flying back towards the bedroom. Keeping up is a walk in the park for you, but he stays just out of your reach. “Hey!!!” 

Pouting at him, you take a running leap and grab the bat with both hands, landing perfectly on your feet. 

“Gotcha.” 

Soft fur ripples back into warm flesh as Astarion returns to his regular form. “Well done, my dear. As promised…another present.” A pink candy is pressed against your lips, and you open them to taste the sweet and tangy flavor of berry lemonade… your favorite! 

Eyes widening, you look at him. 

“I did order several tubes of these, but I hid them around the palace. You’ll have to go find them yourself later. Now, there is one last present for you.” 

“What is it?” 

You had already gotten a new outfit, makeup, perfume, cake, and candy. What else could Astarion have possibly gotten you? 

“Me.” 

Stepping away from you with crimson eyes glinting, his pale fingers slowly unbutton his jacket. You don’t need to breathe, but find yourself holding your breath anyway. 

His jacket becoming a red and black silken heap on the carpet, Astarion then begins removing his shirt. Inch by inch, the smooth, pale chest you are all too familiar with is revealed to you. 

The dress pants are next. Astarion leisurely unbuckles his belt, before sliding the trousers down his perfect legs. 

“Precious thing; you always stare so eagerly,” he teases you with another smirk, palming his thick length through the fabric of his underwear. 

“Well, you are putting on quite the show. Now, are you going to give me my present, or do I have to take it myself?” 

He chuckles. “My, my. So impatient.” 

You cross the room to rest your forehead against his, before pressing your lips together. Sliding his hands into your hair, he deepens the kiss, before pulling away and gently nipping your bottom lip. “Good things come to those who wait.” 

“Well, it’s my birthday. And I want good things without waiting.”  

Closing the distance between you once more, you claim his lips in another kiss. 

The floor beneath you falls away as you are swept into his arms. “Oh, I can refuse you nothing.” 

He tosses you gently onto the soft bed. Astarion may be well-versed in keeping a cool and collected facade, but you’ve been his lover for over a thousand years. The man is just as eager as you are. 

Crawling atop you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss, he palms your breast through your clothing. You can feel your nipples stiffening, eager for his warm touch. Astarion kisses down your throat and chest, unfastening the corset along the way. 

He gently nips at your hardened peak with his teeth, before latching on and sucking hard. You moan, running your fingers through his soft hair as he moves onto the other nipple.

“Take me now,” you pant at him. He’s already made you wait for so long.   

“As you wish.” Moving back up to meet your lips with his again, deft fingers push your lacy panties aside. Astarion slides into you with one smooth, confident thrust. 

You groan in unison as he sets a punishing pace, likely in part caused by your impatience. Your walls flutter around his thick cock as he snaps his hips into you. Locking your ankles behind his hips, your nails dig into his back. Each thrust brings a familiar stretch, and you love every second of it. Your bodies slot together like perfect pieces of a puzzle, born from so many years of lovemaking. He knows your body as well as his own.

Reaching between your bodies, he rubs at your clit with practiced fingers. You’re close. So close. A spark of pleasure rising to dizzying heights. 

“Come for me.” 

You shatter. There is nothing but the wave of ecstasy washing through you. 

His hips stutter as he follows you with a groan. Warmth floods your insides as you lay there, panting from exertion.  

“Now let’s freshen up and greet the day, my love. Here’s to another year in our eternal lives.” 

You decide that tonight, you’ll go for round two. 

[marshmallow-phd]

A Manor of Shadow and Blood

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: A stormy night brought you to the manor in the middle of the woods. Nine strange men occupied its halls. They won’t let you leave. A dangerous secret haunts this estate. Learning it might either be your saving grace or it could lead to the last breath you ever take.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5

**

The grand hall was lit as bright as midday. Every surface was polished to perfection, reflecting the candlelight at a greater force. Brilliant brass and gold surrounded you as you made your way through the dancing couples, their movements in perfect sync. Wrapped in each other's arms, they spin around without a care for your wandering presence. 

While all who surrounded you were decorated in blacks and whites, your own dress was the color of freshly spilled blood. The heavy skirts that hug from your waist made it difficult to navigate the ballroom. Their fullness was of an older fashion, one that maybe your grandmother would have worn in her youth. The dropped shoulders left you exposed, your skin chilled despite the amount of bodies in here. 

You kept navigating the dance floor, on the look out for something, though you didn’t know what. Then you felt the familiar burn of eyes boring into your back, which sent a shiver down your spine. You whirled around to find the source, the dress brushing at your feet with the sudden motion. Through the crowd, you spotted Baekhyun leaning against the wall. With a single finger, he beckoned you over. And you obeyed. 

Breaking through the sea of dancers, you took in his elegant suit, the hems lined with gold thread that shimmered against black velvet. 

"You shouldn't dance alone," he purred. Arms crossed over his chest, he smirked at you with a grin even the devil wouldn't wear.

"I have no partner," you retorted. He held out a lazy hard. Hardly the romantic gesture. "No, thank you." 

"How about me?" asked a sweet voice in your ear. 

You turned your head to find Junmyeon at your back. He laid a soft hand on your hip to keep you from escaping out of propriety. When you didn’t shove him away, the hand slyly moved to your stomach, pulling your bare shoulder blades into his chest. With the fingers of his left hand, he tilted your chin towards him. 

"Am I a suitable partner?" 

No answer passed your lips. You could think of nothing to say. The thought of him twirling you around the dance floor was not… unpleasant. 

Junmyeon neither needed nor cared for a reply. He dipped his head to your shoulder and pressed a kiss to the skin. A small gasp passed your lips. And then he pressed another. More and more as he climbed up the curve of your neck. Heat rose from every inch of you as you sighed into the affectionate touches. You relaxed into his touch, welcoming each new contact of his lips. 

"It's rude not to share, Junmyeon.”

Your attention snapped back to Baekhyun, who you had forgotten was there. He pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer to you so he stood in front of the minor. 

No, not a mirror. There was no reflection. 

Except… there was. The mirror reflected the floor, the ceiling, the candlelight. You. 

But not Baekhyun. Not Junmyeon. And not the dancers still spinning behind you. 

Fingers snaked through your hair and pulled your head back, your vulnerable neck exposed. From the gallery above, Kyungsoo watched as elongated fangs flashed behind Junmyeon’s lips and plunged into your neck. 

*****

You woke with a start, the blanket flying off of you as you sat up in a fury. Sweet drenched every pore of your skin. Your day old dress clung to your skin in a way that felt suffocating. Each breath was a struggle for your lungs. 

Vampires. The nightmarish tale that had kept you up as a child until you were convinced they weren't real turned out to be true. But how could they be real? 

Creatures of the night. Blood drinkers. Horror stories meant to keep children from wandering about after dark. 

Curling your legs to your chest and encasing them in your arms, you tried to think of a way out. To escape. With what strength you possessed, you slid off the bed and walked over to the window. The sun, so bright and full of life, was just beginning its descent towards the horizon. Night–their domain–was hours away. If the legends were true, then they would all be asleep at this moment. Any risk that was to be taken had to be taken now. 

After changing into a sturdier dress, you retrieved your still mud-covered boots and, keeping them in one hand, you carefully pushed away the pathetic barrier and snuck out of the room. 

Each step was taken with unmatched caution. You tested every board with your foot before fully committing. Any squeak of a floor or stumble down a stair could alert them to your escape. But by the grace of a miracle, you made it to the front door. Fingers trembling, you pulled on the boots and tied up the laces before opening the door only wide enough for you to slink through. 

The next breath taken outside was like the first breath of life. But there was no time to take it in. 

Gathering your skirts in your grip, you took off into the trees. The dirt was dry and sturdy under your feet. Branches and leaves crunched with the weight of your boots. A lady’s delicacy was out of the question as you ran without abandon. You didn't know what direction you were running. But vampires needed blood to survive and they weren’t drinking yours. And Jongdae had brought those buns from a bakery, not their own kitchen. You doubted any of them knew how to cook. That meant a village or town had to be nearby. Junmyeon had lied about the isolation of the manor. If you just kept going, you could find freedom. 

However, your stamina was running out. This was never your preferred activity. Your lungs and throat burned in an unfamiliar way. The sun still shined above. A short respite could be spared. 

You leaned against a tree trunk for support. In your boots your feet pulsed. Only now did you realize that you had run away without food or water. Not knowing where the kitchen was located, you didn't have time to waste on it. You could survive, you told yourself. Just a little farther. The town couldn’t be too far. Unless you were headed in the wrong direction. 

A rustling rippled through the silent forest. You snapped to attention, trying to find the source. 

“The wind,” you gasped between ragged breaths. “It had to be the wind.” 

A low, rumbling growl said it wasn't wind. 

In the distance, large silhouettes emerged. Wolves. Nearly a dozen of them. 

You ran as fast as your crying legs could take you. With their superior nature built for the hunt, the wolves caught up to you within seconds. Their growls and howls grew louder and more threatening behind you. Running from the manor had been easy. Running from the wolves was to be your end. 

Powerful paws slammed into your back. You were thrown to the ground, rolling across the ground as a scream ripped at your throat. The momentum stopped you on your stomach. Hair covered your face, but you could still see your death through the strands. 

Wolves of gray and black gathered in a half moon circle. They had their prey in perfect position. The middle wolf pounced. All you had time to do was throw up your arms to protect your face. Claws raked across your forearm. Another scream echoed through the merciless trees. The wolf landed on the other side of you with pride. Now you were surrounded. A second wolf leapt. 

A blur appeared in front of you and collided with the wolf midair. The two bodies tumbled across the forest floor. A human and the wolf. 

Not a human. 

Chanyeol. The wolf trapped within his grasp, Chanyeol tightened his grip–

Crack. 

The wolf fell limply to the ground, its tongue hanging from its jaw. 

The others appeared seconds later. Not understanding what they were up against, the wolves let you go to attack the newest threat. 

"Are you alright?" Junmyeon knelt down in front of you. His hands were outstretched as if you were the wild animal on the verge of attack. Behind him, snarls and whimpers told of the fight–and who was winning. Despite not answering him, he caught sight of your bleeding arm. "We need to get back to the manor." 

He didn't ask permission before picking you up into his arms and sprinting through the forest. Everything blurred past you, your loose hair whipping at your face. He burst through the manor doors and didn't stop until he was able to set you down in the largest chair. Once you were safe, he fell to his knees, only his palms keeping him upright. The others soon stumbled in behind him, heaving and collapsing onto the floor. Only then did you notice the smoke floating up from each of their backs. Patches of burnt, red skin sizzled on their knuckles and faces. Anything that had been exposed to the sun. 

"Baekhyun," Junmyeon gasped. 

"I already have it." Kyungsoo came into the parlor with bottles stacked in his arms. He quickly passed them around, waiting until the others were quenching their thirst before pulling the cork out of his own bottle and chugging the contents. 

With his bottle empty, Junmyeon tossed it to the side and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Red smears stained the ivory fabric. You shrank back in the chair as he turned towards you. 

"What hell were you thinking!" He growled. "I warned you about the wolves!" 

"Junmyeon, she's shaken up enough," Jongdae defended. Before your eyes, his burnt skin healed to be like new.

"She could have been killed!" 

Your head was pounding. He was… concerned about your life? The legends said that the sun was a vampire's deadliest enemy. It was why they thrived in the darkness. But they had all risked a final death to come after you. 

"Did you hear me scream?" you whispered. You could barely feel your own lips moving. All heads tuned to you. 

Yixing was the one to answer. "Yes. We all heard you." 

"Why were you out there?" Sehun asked aggressively.

You sucked in a sharp breath. There was no escaping the truth now. You stared at Jongdae. "I figured it out.” 

Baekhyun laughed. "At least we don't have to walk around delicately anymore." 

"When exactly did you do so?" Minseok mocked.

"Then you should remember what I said to you before was true. Harm would not come to you within these walls." Junmyeon crouched down next to the chair. His eyes... there was something behind the darkness that tugged at your still wildly beating heart. "I know you were running away. And if you're desperate to get away enough to get yourself killed, then the choice can be yours. We can send you on your way with every provision. Or," he cleared his throat, "you stay here. With us." 

A choice? He was giving you a choice?

Your gaze drifted over the faces that stared back at you. Even Kyungsoo refused to look away while he waited. There was almost a plea in his expression, a subtle beg. But was it to stay? Or for you to run as far away as possible? 

Junmeyon took your attention away when he picked up your wounded arm with delicate fingers. His pleading was much more clear. 

To leave would be the better choice. The more sane choice. But what would happen afterwards? You could claim being lost in the woods. With evidence of the carriage and the missing driver, what else could they believe? After a few days on bed rest, you would be back by your aunt's side, following her every whim. Including indulging her on a "perfectly adequate" suitor because you had no other option, no other path. That suitor who would then become your future. But you didn't want it. You refused to give in to it. 

Already within these few days, you were… changed in a way. They might not be human, but these men would forever be burned into your memory. Who could move you with music the way Chanyeol had? What silent strength could match the aura of Junmyeon? You had been promised that none of them would harm you. The chance for something extraordinary was right in front of you. The kind of chance you had only read about. It just had to be taken.

"I think… I think I want to stay."

*****

The moon became an ever changing friend. You hardly saw the sun anymore. Like the men you had given yourself over to, you lived under the stars. It was oddly beautiful. This time was often forgotten about by you and many others. The night was only a background to your time within your dreams. But now it was your entire world. 

Every evening, you awoke to the dying orange light of the day. Breakfast always waited for you outside the door. It was the rule that no one broke; none could enter your room without explicit permission from you. Those walls remained your safe haven when things grew too overwhelming. 

Despite your decision to stay, discovering that other creatures walked the earth required a step away once in a while. Especially now, with you aware of their true nature, the men were refusing to hold back. 

Dropping from the roof, running around with spectacular speed, and lifting objects that ten men couldn't hold. It was remarkable. Except for the diet and inability to walk in the sun, the… condition seemed more like a blessing.

"You're rather thoughtful this evening,” Jongdae commented. He walked beside you like he did every twilight. 

After you finished your breakfast, you met Jongae at the front doors to go on a walk around the manor grounds. Often others would join you as well. Junmyeon was the most frequent, though Yixing, Changed, and Jongin made many appearances over the past week and a half. Boundaries were constantly tested, but one word from you and they retreated.

"I guess you could say I am thoughtful tonight," you finally sighed. You hadn’t realized that you were being so obviously quiet. Funny, since you would have thought Jongdae would enjoy the silence. You typically had many questions or comments of your own to make. 

"Should I go steal a penny from Sehun?" 

You laughed. "I'd like to think my thoughts are worth more than a single penny.”

"They must be if you've become so skilled in deflecting from them." He crossed over to block your path. Gaze narrowed, he studied your carefully guarded expression. "What are you thinking about so hard? Regretting your decision to stay already?" 

"No," you insisted. "Not at all."

He raised an eyebrow that simply asked, "Then what?" 

"Do you always stay here?" you countered. "At the manor, I mean." 

"We travel," Jongdae answered with a nod. "Not too often. It’s a bit difficult, you see."

"But we like traveling north.” Minseok dropped from who-knew-where, landing with barely bent knees and hands folded behind his back. "In the winter, the night lasts longer. Junmyeon has a small hunting lodge up there. 

A hunting lodge? "Then why do you stay here?" 

Minsoek shrugged. "This manor is bigger." 

"Having nine of us in one household can be a bit volatile,” Jongdae added. He stepped aside to continue the stroll. "We need the room to separate so we don't level a building." 

Your foot caught on an invisible lump in the grass. "You could destroy a building while fighting?" 

Minseok snickered as he caught your stumble and helped steady your stance. His hand lingered at your waist until your sharpened glare made him remove it. "We haven’t crumbled a wall in a few years."

You scoffed at the casual tone. "What sort of fight caused that?" 

"I can't remember." Minseok leaned forward slightly to look at Jongdae for help. But he didn't seem to recall either. 

"Who knows what started it between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol had fought over something to the point of destroying a wall to crumble? It didn't feel plausible. Neither seemed like the hot-headed sort. You wanted to know the igniting incident so desperately. 

Both Jongdae and Minseok suddenly whipped their heads towards the front of the manor. 

"What is it?" you asked when neither offered an explanation. 

"Junmyeon's calling for us." Jongdae scooped you up into his arms without warning. At your confused expression, he explained, "We're not leaving you alone out here." Remember your last adventure in the woods lingered in the silence.

The short lived wind whipped at your hair that you still wore loose to cover your neck. As soon as he stopped running, you wiggled out of his arms to be back on your feet. Everyone else was already gathered just outside the door. Several eyed you and Jongdae with suspicious and annoyed glares. You took a step away from him for some separation. 

Clearing his throat, Junmyeon called everyone to attention. "We have to go hunting–real hunting. Now, normally, we all go together, but now that we have our guest," he nodded towards you, "some will have to stay behind with her until the first party… comes back." 

"If you all need to go,” you couldn't quite speak the word feed, "then I'll be alright. For a few hours, at least." You weren't sure how long this excursion would take.

Junmyeon's features softened. "No. We'll go in groups. Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, Minseok and I will go first. We shouldn't be gone long." He reached out and patted the top of your head before disappearing into the trees. Kyungsoo gave no goodbye as he followed suit. The last two playfully shoved each other while taking off. 

"Come." Yixing took hold of your hand and started pulling you inside. "I want to show you something."

"But–" You had wanted to ask Jongdae a question, but the traitor was already gone, off somewhere to do something he would never tell you about. So, you let Yixing take you into the manor and up the main staircase at the end of the hallway. At least he let you stay on your own feet instead of insisting on going at his speed. 

Going down an unfamiliar hallway, you were reminded how big this place was and how much you still had to explore. The men occupied most of your time, vying for your attention and pulling you this way and that so you didn’t have much time on your own. It was odd and overwhelming at times. 

During your seasons in town, you were hardly a well-sought after prize. There were prettier girls with grander dowries. You had accepted that fact. Now you were the center of a courting dance to which you knew none of the steps and possessed endless partners. 

Yixing paused in front of a door that looked identical to all the others. He kept his fingers tight around yours as he slowly turned the knob with his free hand. The door swung open. 

The gasp inhaled through your parted lips wasn't enough to convey your awe. 

Maps of all the places you'd heard of and dozens more you hadn't covered the walls like homemade wallpaper. Slipping out of Yixing's grip, you walked further into the study, spinning slowly around to take it all in. The maps were varying degrees of tan, some as light as his skin, others as dark as animal leather. 

Instead of bookshelves, doorless cabinets waist high lined three of the walls. Their squared shelves were stuffed full of parchment and ink and quills. A lone sketcher's desk sat in the middle, an unfinished drawing laying against the tilted surface. 

"What is this place?"

"It's my personal study," Yixing answered as he laid a hand on the edge of the desk. "Kyungsoo gave it to me after I had accidentally taken over one of the parlors." 

Your awe increased ten-fold. Your initial assumption was that he was a collector, not the original artist. "You drew all of these?" 

He nodded almost... shyly. "I did. I was a cartographer. Before." 

"Before?" You understood what he meant, but you didn't know how to ask for the story. 

Turning his eyes to the parchment, he pinched it between his fingers. "I didn't just love traveling. I loved capturing it on paper. I wanted to make these places into art, but not like every other painting. I wanted them to be perfect. Exact replicas as if you were staying at them from God’s point of view. And I wanted to be the best. I couldn't be, though. I wasn’t good enough." 

You moved closer to him, entranced in the story. "What happened?"

A rueful smile tightened at his lips. "I was given a chance to become perfect. What I didn't know was that I traded everyone knowing my maps for the talent to make it happen." Sorrow rolled from him like the tide warning of an oncoming storm. 

Feeling the pull to comfort him, you reached out and covered his fidgeting hand with your own steady fingers.

"People will be able to know your work some day," you whispered. "I’m sure of it." 

Perhaps you had been a bit too forward, a bit too open. 

Yixing moved gracefully forward to eliminate most of the space between you. A smooth thumb that once must have been calloused when it was human caressed the edge of your jaw. His flickering eyes made intentions obvious. 

Clearing your throat, you stepped out of the touch. "Why isn't this one finished?" You pointed to the drawing on the desk. It was an aerial view of the manor, with the top half of the parchment containing the beginning edges of the garden hedges. Disappointed, Yixing sighed and went along with your distraction. 

"I'm still working out the maze. It is intricate. Much more than I was prepared for." 

"Goodness." You were thankful that you hadn't wandered in there yet, especially on your own.

"Yixing.” 

Both of you turned towards the door to find Sehun standing under the frame. 

"Yes, Sehun?" Yixing said through somewhat gritted teeth. The young vampire wasn't phased. 

"I need to speak with you." 

"Fine." None of you moved. 

Sehun looked at you with a pointed glare.

You received the hint loud and clear. "I'll leave you, then.” 

With more relief than you cared to admit, you scurried out of the room and down the hallway. 

Around the corner, you pressed your back against the wall and forced yourself to take deep breaths that filled your lungs to capacity. Panic had been the response at Yixing's closeness. You didn't mean for that to be the response. You didn't want to be closed off to any of them. But you couldn't help it. Maybe it was merely the closeness of the situation. 

Giving yourself a small amount of grace, you pushed off the wall and made your way downstairs. So used to your time being absorbed by the men that you weren't sure what to do with yourself. Two of the ones that remained behind were currently occupied. As for the three others, they could have been anywhere. 

You wandered around the main floor with a fleeting hope that one would come to find you. Then you saw them. A row of grand doors evenly spaced along the north wall called you forward.

The grand ballroom took your breath away. Not so dissimilar to the one in your dream, though this one’s lack of warmth and light left you heartbroken. Memories of dancing figures and lively music haunted these walls. In the corner, you could imagine a small orchestra strumming their instruments in delight. 

You walked to the center where dozens of pairs used to twirl and bow and embrace each other in time with the melody. Ghostly laughter echoed in your ears. What had once been  bright and golden and full of life was dull, dark, and covered in cobwebs that swayed in the breeze of unknown origin. 

Glancing around, you confirmed that you were truly alone before closing your eyes, lifting your arms, and began a soft hum. 

You danced with an invisible partner in the fashion that your grandfather had taught you as a small child. It was more intimate than the choreographed dances currently popularized. You had always imagined your first ball like this, instead of the disappointment you really experienced. You had pictured a boy you didn’t know catching your eye. As the music was struck up, he laid a hand on your waist.

Just like now. 

Hm. Your imagination was running wild, even pretending the weight of a palm was there on your lower back. And now in your lifted left hand. 

No. That wasn’t your imagination. 

Your eyes snapped open. 

Jongin had taken the place of your imagined partner. He smiled down at you with a feline smirk as his hands tightened around you, refusing to let you slip away. There was no choice in leaving this musicless dance. You had stopped humming but he continued to whirl you around the marble floor. He controlled the dance, in charge of every step. He led with an expertise he shouldn’t have possessed–if he were a man of this age. 

In one final move, he slipped his arm fully around your waist, pulling you so close that no room remained between you. Without breaking the spin, he lifted you from the floor as if you were no more than a kitten and whirled you around like the heroine from your favorite novel.

When the spin came to a close, he set you back on your feet, but didn’t let go. Your lungs heaved from the exercise–and from the way your bodies pressed together. Each rise of your chest brought you even closer to Jongin. He kept your gaze like a stablehand trying to calm a wild horse. His right hand slipped from your fingers, softly tracing the delicate inside of your arm. The touch left behind a fire you couldn’t explain. A cold, simmering fire.

He cupped your jaw as his eyes drifted down to your lips. This was a different reaction to Yixing’s wandering gaze. Not panic, but something similar. 

Jongin held you in place as he leaned down, his lips pressing gently into the corner of yours. The thin breath in your lungs hitched. He lifted his lips only to find a new patch of skin. The delicate skin covering your pulse. Every muscle in your body froze. He kissed the skin softly. Surely, he could feel the race of your blood. 

“Whenever you need a partner,” he said in a hush against your neck, “just whisper my name.”

And then, he was gone. 

You stared off at the empty path left behind Jongin. The sheer hubris.

His name lingered on your lips, wondering if he would really come back like he said. But you kept the whisper inside and left the ballroom just the same. 

[elisacaleisa]

HELLO!

I made an interactive thread on Twitter to make yourself/sona/oc in REDACTEDVERSE! YEAH!

I wanted to do it the same was here too, but it's only 10 pictures per post. >:(

So tumblr version will have a link and text only, to have everything in one place, sorry! /lh

Scrolling further, there is Tumblr version!

Twitter link:

YOUR POWERS - BASED ON YOUR BIRTH MONTH

JANUARY - Elemental

FEBRUARY - Seer

MARCH - Psychokinetic

APRIL - Illusory

MAY - Dreamwalker

JUNE - Warder

JULY - Stealth

AUGUST - Vampire

SEPTEMBER - Energetic

OCTOBER - Telepath

NOVEMBER - Shifter

DECEMBER - Freelancer

---

YOUR SPECIFIC POWER - BASED ON YOUR BIRTH DAY:

(if elemental/energetic)

1-11 - Air Elemental, Electro Energetic

12-17 - Fire Elemental, Graviton Energetic

18-24 - Water Elemental, Magneto Energetic

25-31 - Earth Elemental, Sonal Energetic

---

YOUR SPECIFIC POWER - BASED ON YOUR BIRTH DAY:

(if shifter)

1-3 - Primate Mammals (Lemur, Monkey, etc)

4-7 - Reptiles (Lizard, Snake, etc)

8-11 - Hoofed (Deer, Horse, etc)

12-15 - Fish (Shark, Eel, etc + exception of Dolphin)

16-19 - Bird (Parrot, Crow, etc)

20-23 - Canine Mammal (Wolf, Dog, etc)

24-27 - Feline Mammal (Lion, Cat, etc)

28-30 - Rodent Mammal (Rabbit, Mouse, etc)

31 - Other Unmentioned Mammals (like Raccoon, Hedgehog, Bear, Skunk, etc)

---

YOUR HOMETOWN - BASED ON YOUR BATTERY PERCENT

0-15% - McKinley

16-30% - Kennedy

31-45% - Borden

46-60% - Dahlia

61-85% - Mont Blanc

86-100% - Duke

---

YOUR JOB - BASED ON YOUR FAVORITE COLOR:

(or the color of your shirt if multiple or no fav)

RED - 7/eleven

ORANGE - Academy Staff

YELLOW - Max's Rustic Pizza

GREEN - CloseKnit

BLUE - E.M.T.

PURPLE - Shaw Security

PINK - Vesta Distribution Company

BLACK/GRAY/WHITE - Department

---

BORN AS - BASED ON YOUR DOMINANT HAND:

RIGHT-HANDED - Magicborn

LEFT-HANDED - Humanborn

AMBIDEXTROUS - Free choice!

---

YOUR LOGO - BASED ON YOUR (SUN) ZODIAC SIGN's ELEMENT:

(the one on your birthday, most recognized zodiac sign)

AIR (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius) - Jewelry/Accesories (Earrings, Rings, etc)

WATER (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces) - Technology (Laptop, Game Console, etc)

EARTH (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) - Weapon (Crossbow, Sword, etc)

FIRE (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) - Home Decor (Mirror, Bookshelves, etc)

---

END OF SILLY FUNNY HAHA THREAD! HAVE FUN!

[another-lost-mc]

RAPHAEL x gn!Reader, 0.8k words, nsfw. Content warnings: Marking/hickies. Possessiveness if you squint. A/N: Inspired by The RAD Vampire Club! Devilgram story.

“This looks fantastic,” you told Raphael as you stretched out your arms in the costume he made for you. It fit you perfectly, and you were genuinely impressed by the craftsmanship of his work. You didn’t expect he would put so much care into an outfit you were only going to wear for one night.

You were surprised when he invited you to Purgatory Hall earlier that week to confirm your measurements. You offered your approximate measurements over the phone, but he insisted he wanted to verify the numbers himself.

“Is that really necessary? I don’t want to waste your time.”

“It’ll be a bigger waste of time if what I make for you doesn’t fit. Who took your measurements?”

“…I did?”

It was embarrassing to think about—the way you twisted in front of the mirror, jotting down your measurements for him and hoping the entire time that the tape wasn't too loose or crooked as you awkwardly measured yourself. You tried your best and hoped that whatever he made would fit, at least.

But then he sighed into the receiver, and you guessed he was imagining how you managed to achieve the numbers you gave him, too. “Come over after dinner and I’ll confirm your measurements myself.”

That’s how you ended up in his bedroom in Purgatory Hall, wearing only your undershirt and underwear, perched on a stepping stool he grabbed from the kitchen he shared with his dorm mates.

You expected him to take your measurements quickly in the sitting room, and maybe he planned on that, until you both realized Solomon was reading on the sofa. Raphael sensed your apprehension and led you straight past the sorcerer and into his room instead.

Raphael’s intense focus while he worked was nerve-wracking enough—you didn’t want to worry about Solomon leering at your half-naked body.

Raphael worked quietly but quickly, drawing the tape measure across your limbs and around your torso. He was respectful, not touching you more than necessary, and you didn't notice his eyes roaming freely over so much exposed skin. You were surprised how comfortable you felt with him in such an intimate position, but there was nothing intimate about this. He was professional about it, and you tried to be too.

He scratched out numbers on the sheet of paper he brought with him—the one with the original dimensions you gave him—and he corrected all of them. He snickered under his breath when he came across one you had measured very poorly.

“Hey, I tried my best!”

He smiled when you crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. “You did, but I want you to look your best even if it’s for a silly party. Let me finish this for you and you can be on your way.”

When Raphael met you at the venue to prepare for the festivities, he handed you a zipped-up clothing bag. You put on the outfit excitedly and stepped out of the dressing room for his approval. He gave you an approving once-over, visibly pleased by how you looked in the costume he tailored specially for you. You were delighted—it was comfortable enough to move around in freely, but fitted enough to be flattering on your body.

He stepped closer to you and after a moment of scrutiny, he pulled a loose thread off your shoulder. “You look like a respectable vampire now. Your unsuspecting victims won't stand a chance.”

You admired yourself in the full-length mirror when he walked away and started tidying his supplies. “Are you coming to the party too?”

His reflection in the mirror shook its head. “I’m not sure I understand the appeal of blood-sucking, even if it's only pretend.”

“I’d let you try, if you're curious,” you joked, looking over your outfit one more time as you smoothed down the front of your jacket.

Your eyes shot back up when you felt something—someone—at your back. Raphael had moved behind you suddenly, and his bright eyes caught your gaze in the mirror. He pushed down the collar of your shirt—gently, so he didn't ruin the lace trim—and bent his head.

His hair tickled the side of your face when his lips brushed against the side of your neck. He hummed when you gasped, and he pushed down a little firmer with his mouth and sucked. He was careful enough so that it didn’t hurt, but there was no mistaking the hint of teeth that scraped your skin before he lifted his head and stepped back again.

“Perhaps I’ll see you the party after all,” he murmured, licking his lips as he turned away. He was out the door, closing it behind him with a decisive click before you could even respond.

You were frozen in place, overwhelmed by the tingling sensation radiating from your neck and the erratic heartbeat hammering in your chest. You leaned forward and stared at your reflection in the mirror. There was an unmistakable mark on your neck now, blooming purple just above your collar where everyone else would see it.

Taglist: @l-d-8 @mithrakira @your-next-daydream @xpixie @tortibomb @rensphilia @4allthefours4 @a-hidden-gem @beelsjuicytitties @goldenglow149 @callmesaya @alexxncl @sirimirihiro @i-am-empress-irish @angelsdilf @todothedodo

Join the taglist here. | Obey Me! Masterlist

[whatshehassaid]

Also lil fun fact in s1… Louis reads a part of Daniel’s book where he’s talking about how recollection and memory can trick you: “I look at my daughter in the rear view mirror of my Buick sitting in her car seat… my editor tells me it’s 7 years before car seats become mandatory. My ex wife tells me I never had a Buick”

In the books Daniel is turned into a Vampire by Armand in 1985

In the show:

Louis: Alice is in her third trimester… she steps in gum on the corner of Rue Palatine and Servandoni.

Daniel: the old parlour trick…

Louis: she makes you scrape it off with a credit card..

Daniel: it’s not a credit card. I HAVE no credit, it’s a library card

Louis: She’s wearing that short purple dress you favor…

Daniel: I liked the way she lo- walked in it… she was CONFIDENT

Louis: You felt freer to hold her hand in Paris… *hint of sarcasm* I wonder why that is..

Daniel: hitting the garage door, Louis… all the crap… have at it

Louis: you worked SOOOO hard to get that table right in the corner so you could pull out the ring…

Daniel *scoffs*: the ring… that’s good..

Louis: just at the right moment to surprise her

Daniel: which I DID..

Louis: And what did she say when you finally asked her to marry you?

*Daniel has a flash of Armand in the 70s*

Louis: Danny. I’ll ask for a third time. What did ALICE say… when you finally asked her to marry you?

Armand *softly*: Louis perhaps we should…

Daniel *visibly upset* : She said no.

*Louis chuckles maliciously*

*long silence*

Armand *squirms on the couch and a sad uncomfortable expression comes over his face*: she wanted to say yes.

*Daniel’s eyes widen as he looks up at Armand*

Armand: she just didn’t trust you. You hadn’t given her a reason to.

Louis *still with a malicious tone*: do you want to know what she thinks of you now? IF she thinks of you now? *glances at Armand* we could do that

Armand: or we could simply return to the interview.

——

Season one Louis serves Daniel the dessert he had in Paris claiming he has a human meal once a week to hold onto the thread of humanity…

Daniel: this is the dessert I had after I proposed to my first wife… after I got my shit together. We were in Paris. Little cafe on the Rue Servandoni up the way from Saint Sulpice.

Louis: I know it. It’s a beautiful street.

Daniel *becoming nostalgic*: Alice…. Half of her eyebrow was blonde… like a mutt. She always dyed it back to brown…

Daniel *somewhat sadly*: I liked it when she left it alone….

*daniel closes his laptop stopping the recording of the interview*

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

touch

masterlist

summary: the first three times dean touched you

pairing : dean winchester x female reader

rating : R for language

word count : 1.3k

warnings : language, mentions of violence, nudity (kind of?), blood, injured reader

author’s note : worried dean has my whole heart omfg

the first time dean touched you was after he saved your ass by beheading a vampire. he held out his hand and you reluctantly accepted his help standing up. your thigh was throbbing after getting hit and you were grateful the stranger saved your life.

that was two weeks ago, you had been hunting with sam and dean since

the second time dean touched you was when he hugged you after he thought you were killed by the wendigo they’d been hunting. you didn’t know why you liked the hug so much, but you know he made you feel safe and wanted. you took the opportunity to hug him back with everything in you, taking in his scent and smiling.

the third time was different. you were badly hurt by the werewolf (that was now dead, thanks to sam) and you were seated in the bathroom. dean didn’t realize the monster got you - he thought it had missed your shoulder, when in reality you now had three deep gashes on your back, right shoulder. it stung like a bitch as you doused it in antiseptic and you bit down on the cloth you had shoved in your mouth to muffle the screams. you took a different cloth and dabbed the wound, reaching back with your left hand and using the mirror to see what you were doing.

“hey, y/n, we brought back burgers!” sam called. “dean’s parking baby, he’ll be up in a minute.” he knocked on the bathroom door. “you almost out?”

“yep, just fixing my hair.”

“okay, see you in a minute.”

you continued pressing the cloth against the torn skin, hissing with pain every couple seconds. when you were satisfied with the cleanliness of it, you grabbed some dental floss and threaded the needle, ready to stitch yourself up.

“y/n’s in there fixing her hair,” sam told dean before he reached for the door handle.

“well then she's got her clothes on,” he laughed and walked in. his smile instantly faded when he saw you and he closed the door quickly behind him. “shit, sweetheart, why didn’t you say something!”

“it’s not that bad, it’s just a scratch,” you shrugged. “shit!” the movement hurt your shoulder and you winced. dean hurried up to you and held your biceps gently. you were in sweatpants and an unclasped bra, your back exposed so the full extent of your injury could be seen.

“y/n, that’s not a fucking scratch,” dean furrowed his brows and looked at your torn up skin in the mirror. “that looks really painful, why didn’t you say anything on the way back to the motel?”

“didn’t wanna bother you, i knew you were hungry,” you looked away from him, embarrassed. “did you eat yet? you should go have a burger if-”

“let me patch you up, then we’ll eat dinner, okay?”

“no, i’m fine, i can do it myself,” you shook your head vigorously. “it’s really not bad, dean, i’m okay.”

“you’re right handed, how’re you gonna stitch up a wound like that with your left hand?”

“i’m ambidextrous?”

“no your not.”

“okay, i’m not, but i can still stitch myself up dean it’s not a big deal.”

“let me take a look?” he asked. you didn’t want to look at him, you knew one glance at those green eyes you’d give in and let him help. he gently turned your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “please?”

“mkay,” you whispered. you stood up and faced the mirror, letting dean get a good look at your damaged shoulder.

“i’m gonna patch you up, okay?” he looked into your eyes through the mirror, rubbing your left bicep gently. you nodded, resting on the counter before staring down at it. he grabbed the antiseptic and poured some on a cloth.

“i already did that,” you said.

“no offense, sweetheart, but you didn’t do a very good job,” he smiled a little after hearing you laugh quietly. “how’d you shower, by the way?”

“gym tape, gauze, and plastic wrap over the wound,” you said, matter-of-factly. “shit, give a girl a warning next time!”

“sorry,” dean mumbled, but continued to press the cloth onto the wound. “promise me next time you’re hurt you’ll tell me, please?” he whispered, moving your hair to the left side of your neck so he could clean the wound better.

“okay,” you muttered back, holding in your winces to look tough.

“mkay, antiseptic’s done, time for stitches,” he said.

you straightened up and sighed, watching as dean threaded the needle and grabbed the forceps. he handed you the cloth to bite down on then began stitching up your shoulder.

he muttered an apology every time you let out a cry of pain and muttered comforting words between said apologies.

“almost done, y/n, just another minute,” he said. he had his left hand below your neck and was gently stroking your skin with his thumb.

“mhm,” you hummed back. despite the pain you were in you liked being so close to dean. you weren’t used to such gentle touch (especially from a man) and you weren’t sure why you liked it so much. it might have been the warmth of dean’s hand on your back, the soft whispers of comfort, or the fact someone was showing you genuine kindness.

“and, done!” dean exclaimed. “i’m just gonna put some neosporin on it then some gauze, but the painful part’s over.”

“thank you, dean,” you smiled at him through the mirror before he did the same.

“no problem, sweetheart.”

he finished bandaging the wound and let you know when it was done. you thanked him again before reaching to re-hook your bra, hissing in pain at the movement.

“hey, don’t tear those stitches i just worked so hard on!” he said, gently moving your arm down to a more comfortable position. “may i?” you nodded and he hooked your bra for you, letting out a laugh.

“what’s so funny?” you asked, brows furrowed slightly.

“i’m usually unhooking the bra, don’t think i’ve ever helped a girl put one on,” he mumbled, still smiling.

“maybe you can unhook it later,” you whispered, instantly feeling stupid and praying he didn’t hear.

“the second your shoulder feels better, let me know,” he replied, you let out a breath of relief. he kissed the back of your head, letting you know he was done helping with your bra. you turned around to face him and looked up at his beautiful green eyes.

“thank you,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

“don’t mention it, you’d do the same for me.” he brushed your hair off the one shoulder, tucking a piece behind your ear. he noticed how you leaned into his touch and cupped your cheek with his hand. you closed you eyes and smiled, enjoying the feel of his calloused palm on your lightly-bruised cheek.

“mmh, feels nice,” you smiled when he put his other hand on your other cheek. you opened your eyes to see him leaning in, resting his forehead on yours for a second before kissing you gently. you felt like putty in his hands as you kissed back and gently gripped his forearms.

the perfect moment was disrupted by sam banging on the door, “if you don’t hurry up i’m gonna eat your food!”

“in a minute, sammy,” dean called back, rolling his eyes a little. he then turned back to you and smiled.

“he sure knows how to kill the mood,” you laugh quietly.

“mhm, not that killed,” dean whispered back, kissing you again. you both pulled away after a moment. “let’s eat, hm?”

“um, can you help me with my shirt?” you asked, pointing to the oversized ac/dc shirt that was hung on the towel rack behind him. “i don’t wanna tear these amazing stitches!”

“sure thing, sweetheart,” he laughed and grabbed the shirt. he helped you get it on before you left the bathroom so he could take a quick shower like he had intended to in the first place.

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Day 31: Costume

♤♡-Pairs: Kaveh x male!reader

☆☆-Warnings: male reader, college au, kissing, fingering (kaveh receiving), bathroom sex, nurse costume (kaveh), clothes ripping (kavehs tights), panties (kaveh)

A/N: Super early upload! But I hope yall enjoy and thank you for this amazing first kinktober! Happy Halloween 🎃 👻

WC: 1.7k

"Do I really have to wear this?" Kaveh groaned, eyes casting a disgusted glance towards the pile of white fabric in his hands. 

"You do. That's how bets work." Alhaitham added, lithe fingers working at the button of his cape. Kaveh looked to his other friends; eyes pleading. But they only gave him a sorrowful glance, agreeing with Alhaitham. "Ugh, but what if he's there…" He mumbled, fingers picking at a loose thread. "Then you'll thank me, because he'll want to fuc-"

"Ahh, no more." He shook his head rapidly back and forth. Hanging his head in defeat, he slowly trudged to the bathroom. Slipping on the costume, his face immediately erupted into hot, red heat as he casted a glance in the mirror. White fabric tied in front, just above his belly button. Intended to push up breasts that he didn't have, instead gave the same boob window he had with his normal attire. But now, his tummy was exposed too. His blonde happy trail, peeking just a bit above the band of the skirt. Oh the skirt-he immediately hid his face in his hands. It stopped above mid thigh and he was sure if he turned-yup, you could clearly see the bottom of his ass. Or you would, if Alhaitham hadn't taken pity on him and gave him some tights. This was humiliating. Especially if you saw him. Kaveh nibbled on his bottom lip. Maybe he should just stay-

A harsh knock came to the door. "Come on, we're gonna be late." Kaveh really didn't wanna go. 

Reluctantly, he opened the door and peeked out. All three of his friends waited by the door, faces absorbed in their phones. With a deep breath, he stepped out, all heads swiveled to his direction. Alhaitham gave a hum of approval. "He'll definitely fuc-"

"Stop!" He yelled, waving his hands in front of his face. "Let's just go," he pouted with his arms crossed over his chest.

…

Kaveh had never felt more embarrassed than he did right now. He was hiding from you, it was obvious. As soon as he arrived, you just had to be the first person he saw. Your hair slicked back with gel, plastic fangs tucked in your mouth as you wore a low-cut suit. Who knew he had a thing for vampires? Not that it mattered, as soon as he made eye contact with you, he ran away. And everytime after that. Currently, he had posted up in the bathroom. Staring angrily at himself for being so weak and nervous to talk to you. Or even look at you. It was no secret he'd had a crush on you for a while. Well, you didn't know. 

He needed to put his big boy pants on and face you! With a curt nod to himself in the mirror, he turned to open the door. Coming face to face with you, a beer in your hand that he accidentally made you spill. "Shit," you hissed, the cold liquid seeping into your shirt. 

"I.." kaveh choked, his throat felt dry as he stared at you. This wasn't how it was supposed to go! "I'll help! Paper towels? Um.." he looked around, eyes wavering as he tried to find something. "Don't worry bout it, an accident." You gave a sigh, stepping into the bathroom now, shutting the door. Kaveh blinked, watching as you shrugged off the top layer of your suit, removing the white button up underneath it. He gulped. "Want a picture?" Your eyes glanced at Kaveh's shocked expression before you chuckled. "I'm messing with you dude," your eyes drifted a little lower before coming back up. "Nice costume."

Someone open the ground and swallow him whole please. "T-thanks…" He shifted his feet. "Lost a bet," Kaveh murmured. "Yeah?" You questioned, using your distracting hands to wash the beer stain out of your shirt. "Thank whoever made that bet with you, for me." He blinked. Did he hear you right? 

"What?" You chuckled, giving up on your shirt and set it on the counter, turning to him. "I said, thank whoever made that bet with you." You looked him up and down. "To think I'd see you in a nurse outfit, a sexy one at that." Kaveh's cheeks felt hot, was this really happening? Were you really saying these things to him? 

You stepped closer, hands hovering at your sides. Looking like they itched to touch his body; they did. 

"I know you like me Kaveh." You sighed, a playful smile on your face. "Y-You do? How? I mean-" He rubbed at the back of his neck, accidentally showing more of his slim waist. You felt your cock stir in your slacks. He really did look just too damn hot right now. "It's not hard when you catch someone constantly having eyes glued to you." You stepped even closer, bodies almost touching. "You were so absorbed in it, you didn't even see me looking at you, did you?" 

He swallowed thickly; had he really missed it? Kaveh shook his head. "Thought so," your hands tentatively rested on his hips, causing him to suck in a breath. "Well, now you have no excuse. What do you say we have some fun, hm? It's well overdue, and I have to be honest. This costume?" You licked your lips. "Makes me hard."

Was it possible to feel even hotter? Kaveh pondered that as he felt his head nod, giving you the go ahead. Immediately, you surged forward, pressing your lips against his. And it was a mess of spit, tongues tangling with the other, and teeth knocking against each other. It was hot. Kaveh could already feel his dick spring to life, lifting the front of his skirt a bit. You groaned, hands slipping around to the back. Grabbing handfuls of his ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to make him squeak against your lips.

You chuckled, pulling back. "Sensitive aren't we? That's fucking hot." You lean back in, claiming his lips again. Kaveh found himself palming at your bare chest, seeking something to ground him from his foggy mind. Unable, still, to comprehend this was actually happening.

"Hop up," you murmur against his lips. Tucking your hands under his thighs, lifting him. Your hands spread across his backside, molding the flesh how you liked. "A shame you didn't wear any pretty panties with this." You mumbled, fingers tugging at the fabric of the tights. "Do you like these?" Kaveh heard you question. He shook his head, "N-Not really-ah!" His body flinched, the obscene sound of ripping fabric echoed in the bathroom. Did you…just rip his tights? Oh fuck, that was hot. "Oh?" You were pleasantly surprised to find, he was in fact, wearing panties. "Fuck-" you groaned, resting your forehead against his cheat. "You're killing me. I won't rip these, I wanna fuck you with them on." 

"Please.." he found himself saying almost immediately. Shivering when he saw how your eyes darkened with his neediness. "Don't worry, I will, gotta prep you first." With one hand around him still, you brought the other to his mouth. And you didn't even have to tell him, he immediately took your fingers into his pretty mouth. 

"God, you really are too fucking hot." Your dick strained painfully against your pants, leaking pre already. 

You pressed your fingers against his tongue while he swirled it around your digits. If he sucked fingers like this-how would he suck cock? The thought was enough to make you groan. As much as you wanted that though, you wanted to be inside him. Needed to be. You slipped your fingers out, sliding his panties to the side and slipping in a finger. His hole twitched, spasming around you as there was slight resistance. "Relax," you spoke softly against his lips. Thinking if you kissed him, maybe it'd help him relax. And you were right. Soon, you were able to get three fingers inside, his body grinding himself on your fingers.

His soft whimpers and whines going straight to your dick. You doubted it would take long for either of you.

"You ready baby?" He nodded his head almost immediately, hot breath puffed against your neck. You moved over towards the sink, slipping your fingers out and setting him on the ground. "Turn around for me. I want you to see. No distractions." He complied, turning towards the sink, laying his front on the counter. His ass pointed upwards as he flipped the back of his skirt up. You rubbed the front of your pants at the sight, "You really are gonna kill me." No more wasting time. You undid your pants, slipping them down your legs. Freeing your cock from its confinements, spitting abruptly into your hand. Stroking up and down its length a few times before slapping the tip against the flesh of his ass. 

His ass wiggled, his pretty mouth begging you to just put it in please. "Need to feel your cock inside me." He didn't have to tell you twice. Grasping the base of your dick, you slowly fed yourself into his greedy hole. Twitching and clenching around you. Even though you prepped him, you were still met with some resistance. You leaned forward, kissing up his back. "Fuck-relax baby, can't move, squeezing me too much." 

Eventually the resistance faded and you were fucking into him. Your balls, full and heavy, slapped against his ass. His blessed out face present in the mirror and you couldn't help but hiss. Tangling your hand in his hair, pulling back enough to make him arch. Allowing you to push deeper inside, the tip of your cock brushing against his prostate.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," Kaveh whined. Eyes became misty as the pleasure took over his body. Making his poor nipples harden and brush against the cold surface of the sink. "Gonna cum," he announced. His pretty eyes leaking tears that rolled down his cheeks, flushed a rosy pink. 

"Me too," you grunted, picking up speed. "With me, cum f'me, oh fuck fuck-" 

A flash of white burned behind your eyes as your hips stilled, spilling your sticky cum inside him. Kaveh's dick twitched, spraying his seed on the counter and his tummy. You fell, landing on his back as you panted heavily. 

…

"You owe me twenty bucks," Alhaitham pointed to Cyno. Sipping from his cup, eyes following you and Kaveh walking out of the bathroom.

Masterlist

Prev. ☆

[thequeenofneverland1]

Damon and Stefan Salvatore//// In the shallow of Katherine Pierce

Anonymous request: hi. Can you do where y/n is the twin of Elena but in reality she’s the daughter of katherine and the Salvatores likes her

Warnings:Emotional Distress, Threats of Violence:, Supernatural Themes, Family Dynamics, Romantic Tension and Self-Discovery.

growing up as Elena Gilbert’s twin, sharing every birthday, holiday, and milestone side-by-side. On the surface, you two were inseparable, sharing everything from a room to friends. But there was always something different about you, something unspoken that hovered in the background like a shadow. You couldn’t explain it, yet the feeling never left. It was as though some invisible thread tethered you to a part of yourself no one else could see.

You kept secrets, even from Elena. Small things, at first, hidden moments of intense emotion, instincts that flared up in ways you couldn’t explain. You were tougher, sharper, with a temper that burned quicker and brighter than hers. People noticed, joking that you must’ve inherited some kind of “Gilbert fire,” even if no one in your family was quite like you. Still, you brushed it off, thinking perhaps it was just part of being a twin, of having to share every part of yourself with someone else.

But as you grew older, whispers and rumors seemed to follow you in hushed tones. More than once, you caught adults exchanging glances, your name dropping like a slip of the tongue before they’d clear their throats and change the subject. Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of someone in the crowd, a stranger with piercing eyes and a smirk that felt oddly familiar, and feel an inexplicable pull, only for them to disappear a moment later.

Then, when you encounter Katherine for the first time, you’re struck by how similar you feel to her. The way she moves, the way she thinks and schemes, it feels like looking in a twisted mirror. The feeling unnerves you, a strange resonance you can’t ignore. She stares at you with a knowing gleam, as if she sees right through you, and it unsettles you in a way nothing else ever has. But why would Katherine Pierce, the infamous vampire, care so much about you?

Unbeknownst to anyone, even Katherine, she had a second child, one that was taken from her while she was still on the run from Klaus Mikaelson, hidden away as a twin to Elena by those who feared her power and lineage. You have her blood, her cunning, and perhaps her destiny. But for now, that truth lies buried deep, waiting to surface in ways that could change everything.

The day Elena brings Damon and Stefan to meet you is quiet and warm, one of those rare moments when Mystic Falls feels almost normal. You don’t have many expectations; after all, you’ve heard enough about them to feel prepared. But the moment you open the door and see them, you’re struck by a strange, inexplicable familiarity.

Damon’s eyes rake over you with a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of something he’s not used to admitting: intrigue, maybe even a kind of awe. You know Damon’s reputation, his devil-may-care attitude, but in this moment, he seems almost taken aback, as if seeing a ghost he’s crossed paths with before. Stefan, though more composed, is no less surprised. He stares at you with that quiet intensity, the kind that feels like he’s searching for something hidden just under the surface.

There’s a heartbeat of silence, an unspoken something filling the air. You meet Damon’s gaze, holding it just a little too long, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. You have a feeling you’ve just accepted a silent invitation into a game he plays with far too few worthy opponents. And Stefan, with his thoughtful, steady eyes, looks at you like he’s trying to piece together a memory that won’t quite come into focus.

Elena notices the looks. She steps between you and them, the tension sharpening her voice as she blurts out, “Okay, why are you two looking at her like that?”

Damon glances at Stefan with a mischievous glint in his eyes, raising his eyebrows as if to say, Did you notice that too? Stefan, on the other hand, shifts his focus back to Elena, as if deciding on how much to reveal.

“It’s just… strange,” Stefan says finally. “It’s like we’ve met her before.”

Elena rolls her eyes, folding her arms defensively. “You haven’t met her. This is my sister. Not some long-lost friend of yours.”

Damon, never one to back down from a chance to stir the pot, leans casually against the doorframe and smirks. “Relax, Elena. It’s just a bit… eerie. It’s like I’m seeing something familiar, but in a way I can’t put my finger on.” His gaze flickers to you again, that flirtatious gleam in his eye making it clear he’s more than willing to investigate the mystery further.

Your heart skips a beat, a mixture of irritation and intrigue taking hold. You’re used to getting looks, but this, this is different. You match his stare, feeling the subtle weight of his intensity, realizing that whatever unspoken history you may or may not share with him, he seems determined to uncover it.

Elena huffs, moving a step closer to you as if to shield you from whatever games they might be playing. “Well, you don’t need to figure it out. She’s not a part of whatever mess you’re dealing with.”

Damon’s smirk widens, his gaze darting back to you. “Oh, but something tells me she can handle a little mess. Can’t you?”

You give him a small, sly smile, letting him know you’re more than capable of handling whatever he’s thinking. Stefan clears his throat, shooting Damon a warning look, but you can sense that even he’s still trying to decipher the strange familiarity he feels around you.

It’s a strange, charged moment, one that leaves you wondering if this pull between you and the Salvatores is merely a quirk of shared history, or if there’s something deeper, something neither you nor they fully understand. For now, all you know is that you have their attention in a way you hadn’t expected, and part of you can’t help but be drawn into the mystery just as much as they are.

In the dimly lit corner of the Mystic Grill, Elena sat across from Caroline, swirling her drink distractedly as she tried to find the right words. She hadn’t been able to shake the strange, almost protective feeling she’d been harboring since the moment Damon and Stefan first laid eyes on you. There was something in their expressions, something that had nagged at her from the start.

Caroline tilted her head, picking up on Elena’s discomfort. “What’s up? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Elena let out a sigh, glancing around before leaning in. “It’s… it’s Y/N. Or, I guess, more like the way Damon and Stefan act around her.”

Caroline’s eyes widened, intrigued. “Oh? You think they have a thing for her?”

Elena bit her lip, unsure of how to explain. “I don’t know… it’s more complicated than that. Since that first day, the way they looked at her, almost like they’d met her before. Like they recognized something in her that they couldn’t shake.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s because she looks like you? I mean, you two are twins, after all.”

Elena shook her head, looking slightly frustrated. “Maybe… but it feels like more than that. Like they’re seeing something, or someone,they’ve lost. I’m worried they might be seeing Katherine in her.”

Caroline’s expression shifted to one of sympathy. “Elena, they’ve been through so much because of Katherine. But I don’t think they’d just start confusing the two of you. They know she’s your sister.”

Elena’s jaw tightened, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “It’s just… every time they’re around her, there’s this look, this intensity. I know they’re drawn to her, but I don’t want them to think that she’s Katherine. I want them to see her for who she really is.”

Caroline reached across the table, squeezing Elena’s hand reassuringly. “They know who Y/N is. She’s nothing like Katherine, and Damon and Stefan are smart enough to see that. They’re probably just a little… nostalgic, maybe? They’ve spent years haunted by memories of her, and seeing someone who reminds them of you, someone new, yet familiar, could stir up a lot.”

Elena nodded, though the worry in her eyes didn’t fully fade. “I just don’t want them to project their issues with Katherine onto her. Y/N deserves better than that. She’s not part of their past, she’s her own person.”

Caroline gave her a gentle smile, her voice firm. “And they’ll realize that, Elena. Besides, you’re not the only one watching out for her. They both care about you, and I don’t think they’d ever hurt her or use her as some replacement.”

Elena sighed, managing a small smile. “You’re right. I just… I just don’t want her getting caught up in all of this.”

Caroline nodded knowingly. “Trust me, you’re a great sister. And if Damon or Stefan start acting like idiots, we’ll set them straight.”

Elena chuckled, feeling some of the tension ease, knowing that no matter what, she had people looking out for her, and you

The Salvatore brothers returned to their grand, dimly lit boarding house, silence stretching between them. Each was lost in thought, still feeling the lingering effect of their encounter with you. Damon poured himself a glass of bourbon, his eyes distant as he swirled the amber liquid. Stefan, leaning against the doorway, finally broke the silence.

“She’s… she’s not like Elena,” Stefan murmured, almost to himself, though Damon heard every word.

Damon smirked, though his expression was more bitter than amused. “You noticed that too, huh?” He took a long sip, the warmth of the alcohol doing little to soften the twist of unease in his chest. “She’s got Katherine’s eyes, the same fire behind them. Like she knows more than she lets on.”

Stefan nodded, his mind drifting back to the way you’d looked at them, a flicker of recognition sparking in your gaze. It was the same feeling he used to get whenever Katherine looked his way: a sense that he was being seen, truly seen, with a level of intensity that went beyond the surface. The resemblance to Katherine was uncanny, not in looks alone, but in the subtleties of your expressions, the way your smile hinted at secrets neither brother could decipher.

“Did you… did you feel it too, Damon?” Stefan asked cautiously, his voice carrying an almost wistful tone. “Like we’ve met her before?” He knew it sounded absurd, but the connection felt strangely familiar, like your presence filled a void neither of them had realized was there.

Damon leaned back, exhaling sharply. “Yeah, but it’s more than that, Stefan. There’s something about her, like she’s the part of Katherine that got away, the part she kept hidden.” His jaw clenched as he recalled the nights he’d spent unraveling Katherine’s lies, searching for pieces of her that never quite fit together. Now, standing before you had felt like finding one of those missing pieces, resurrecting a part of him he thought had been buried with her.

“She isn’t Katherine,” Stefan reminded him, though the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. The intensity of Damon’s gaze as he spoke wasn’t lost on him. “But… there’s no denying the resemblance. It’s unsettling.”

Damon let out a humorless laugh. “You don’t think I know that? Believe me, I don’t need any reminders of who she isn’t.” He paused, swallowing his emotions. “But seeing her… it’s like being haunted by Katherine all over again.”

They both fell silent, wrestling with feelings neither could entirely pin down. The line between memory and reality was blurring, and neither could deny the strange attraction, the unspoken tension that had hung in the air from the moment they met you. You were Elena’s twin, yes, but something about you stirred in them a feeling both exhilarating and painful, an echo of the past they thought they had left behind.

Stefan finally spoke, his voice softer now. “We can’t let Elena know. She’s already suspicious, and if she finds out we’re… drawn to her sister, it’ll only hurt her. And… she doesn’t need to know that Y/n remind us of Katherine.” He met Damon’s gaze, a silent plea in his eyes.

Damon nodded, the usual cocky glint in his eyes dimmed by a seriousness Stefan rarely saw. “Agreed,” he said, though the words felt like a weight in his chest. “But let’s face it, Stefan. Whatever this is, it’s not going away. Not unless we get to the bottom of who she really is, and why we’re both feeling this way.”

The brothers exchanged a heavy glance, each recognizing the turmoil brewing between them. It was a pull neither wanted to confront, yet ignoring it felt impossible. The question now wasn’t just who you were, but what your arrival would mean for them, and for everything they thought they understood about love, loyalty, and the ghosts that refused to stay buried.

The arrival of the Mikaelsons sends a ripple through Mystic Falls, a new storm on the horizon. You’ve barely stepped out of the boarding house before you see them, all four of them, a striking and intimidating presence. Kol, Elijah, Klaus, and Rebekah stand together like something out of an old painting, a darkly elegant family bound by blood and the centuries that forged them. Their eyes scan the area, searching, and when they spot you, three sets of eyes light up with interest.

Kol is the first to approach, a wicked smile already playing on his lips as he watches you with an unmistakable spark. “Well, aren’t you a sight,” he says smoothly, his eyes drifting over you with an admiration that’s anything but subtle. “And here I thought Mystic Falls had grown boring.”

Elijah is more reserved but no less intrigued. He steps closer, his gaze thoughtful, his head tilted ever so slightly as if he’s studying a rare piece of art. “It’s rare to meet someone who carries themselves with such… poise,” he says, his tone polite yet filled with something deeper. He gives you a small, approving nod, and you can tell he’s the kind of man who’s drawn to people of depth and mystery, and it seems you’ve caught his attention.

Klaus is last to make his move, standing back a bit, his eyes dark and assessing. The way he looks at you is intense, almost possessive, as if he’s already decided that whatever’s drawn his interest here will soon belong to him. “You must be Elena’s twin,” he says with a smirk, his gaze practically pinning you in place. “Though, I must say, I expected something… softer.” His voice drips with challenge, and the gleam in his eye is as predatory as it is fascinated.

Before you can respond, Damon and Stefan appear at your side, their expressions tense. Damon steps forward, slipping an arm around your shoulders with a look of defiance. “Well, well,” he drawls, his voice edged with sarcasm, “look who decided to show up. What, Mystic Falls not deadly enough without you lot?”

Klaus’ smirk widens, and he meets Damon’s challenge head-on. “Relax, Damon. We’re only here to get reacquainted with an old friend.” His gaze flicks back to you, lingering with interest that he doesn’t bother to hide. “One we didn’t know we had.”

Kol chuckles, his eyes still fixed on you as he pointedly ignores Damon and Stefan. “Can’t say I blame them for hovering,” he murmurs, leaning a bit closer to you. “With looks like yours, I’d be protective too.”

Stefan shifts uncomfortably, a flicker of jealousy flashing across his face as he watches Kol get a little too close for comfort. “Maybe you should take a step back,” Stefan suggests, his tone controlled but firm.

Rebekah, who’s been watching the tension build with a smirk, finally speaks up, adding her own fuel to the fire. “Oh, don’t be so touchy,” she teases, glancing between Damon and Stefan with an amused glint in her eye. “It’s not our fault if she prefers better company.”

You can feel Damon’s grip on your shoulder tighten as he glares at the Originals, his jaw clenched as he looks between them. “I don’t think she’s in the market for new friends,” he says, his voice edged with a protectiveness you haven’t heard from him before. He throws a pointed look at Kol, then Klaus, his eyes flashing with warning.

But the Mikaelsons are undeterred, clearly enjoying the reaction they’re getting. Elijah, ever the diplomat, holds up a hand as if to diffuse the tension, though there’s a sly glint in his eye. “Let’s not be hasty,” he says, looking directly at you. “Perhaps she can make her own decisions.”

The moment he says it, you feel their eyes on you, Damon and Stefan on one side, Kol, Elijah, and Klaus on the other. The pull between them is palpable, and you realize with a strange sense of satisfaction that you hold all the cards here.

Damon’s lips curl in irritation, but he doesn’t let go of you, his arm still firmly around your shoulders. “If you think we’re just going to stand by while you try to—”

“To what?” Klaus cuts in smoothly, his voice low and laced with amusement. “Show her a better time? Give her a taste of freedom, perhaps? Because something tells me she might like that.” His gaze never wavers from yours, an unspoken invitation in his eyes.

The tension between the Salvatores and the Mikaelsons is electric, and you can practically feel the jealousy radiating off of Damon and Stefan as the Originals blatantly express their interest in you. Damon leans in, speaking low in your ear, “Don’t let them fool you. They’ll drag you into their twisted little games and spit you out when they’re done.”

But part of you is tempted, intrigued by the promise of something unknown and dangerous. You’ve always been drawn to things that lie outside the lines, and the Mikaelsons, especially Kol and Klaus, seem more than willing to play along. You smile at Damon, giving him a look that says you can handle yourself, and then meet Kol’s gaze with a spark in your eye.

The Originals might have come to town to stir up trouble, but they didn’t expect to find someone who could stir them up just as much. As you hold their gaze, you sense that this is only the beginning of a rivalry that’s bound to get more intense, and you’re more than ready to be in the middle of it.

The following evening, you found yourself at the Salvatore boarding house, standing in the dimly lit parlor with an expression that was equal parts confusion and frustration. After everything you’d witnessed at the gathering, the cold stares, the thinly veiled jealousy, and the sharp tension between the Salvatores and the Mikaelsons, you felt you couldn’t stay silent any longer. You needed answers.

Stefan and Damon stood before you, Damon leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, wearing his usual smirk, though tonight it seemed forced. Stefan was watching you, his brow furrowed, clearly sensing your frustration.

“Okay,” you began, folding your arms. “What was that back there? You two were acting like absolute jerks.”

Damon scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you. “Jerks? Us? I’d say we were just… looking out for you,” he replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He tried to brush it off with a smirk, but you weren’t buying it.

“Looking out for me?” you repeated, voice thick with disbelief. “It didn’t feel like that. It felt like you were trying to scare them off.” You looked between the two of them, your gaze intense. “Why, Damon? Why did you feel the need to interfere?”

Stefan sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking like he wanted to step in and explain, but Damon spoke first.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” Damon replied, his tone sharper than he intended. “The Mikaelsons, they’re not exactly known for their warm and fuzzy reputations. Klaus, Elijah, Kol, they don’t care about anyone but themselves.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” you shot back, frustration growing. “I can handle myself, Damon. I don’t need you two stepping in like… like some overprotective bodyguards.” You paused, meeting Stefan’s gaze, who looked down as if struggling to put his feelings into words. “What is really going on here? Because this isn’t just about keeping me ‘safe.’ This feels… personal.”

Stefan shifted, glancing at Damon before meeting your eyes. “You’re right,” he admitted softly. “Maybe it is personal. But not in the way you think.”

You waited, crossing your arms, silently urging him to continue.

“Seeing you with them, it brought back memories,” Stefan continued, his voice tight. “Memories of Katherine. The way you looked at them… it reminded us of things we thought we’d buried.”

“Katherine,” you murmured, the name feeling strange on your tongue. The infamous vampire you’d heard countless stories about, the one who had left a mark on everyone in Mystic Falls, including the Salvatore brothers. “You think I’m like her?”

Damon’s gaze softened slightly, the cocky veneer slipping as he studied you. “It’s not just that you’re like her. It’s that… you remind us of her. There’s this part of you, this fire, this strength, and the Originals, they’re drawn to it. Just like they were to her.” He clenched his jaw, as if the words were a bitter pill he was struggling to swallow. “And maybe we don’t want to see that happen again.”

The weight of his confession settled over you, and you looked between them, realizing the depth of what they were saying. It wasn’t just jealousy, it was fear, an old wound reopening, and they were terrified of losing someone else to the same darkness that had once pulled them both in.

You exhaled, trying to find the right words. “Damon, Stefan… I’m not Katherine. I get that she hurt you both in ways I can’t even imagine. But that doesn’t mean I’m her.” Your voice softened as you continued, “And the Mikaelsons, yes, they’re different, maybe even dangerous, but that’s my choice to make. Not yours.”

Stefan’s expression softened, a trace of regret appearing in his eyes. “We know that. It’s just… difficult. Seeing you with them, it brought up feelings we didn’t realize we still had. It’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth.”

You took a step closer, searching their faces. “Then be honest with me. Is that all this is, some unresolved ghost of Katherine? Or is there something else?”

Damon’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, clearly wrestling with something he couldn’t bring himself to say. But Stefan, his voice low and filled with honesty, spoke up.

“It’s more than that,” he admitted, his gaze steady. “It’s about you. You’re not just Elena’s twin to us, or some reminder of the past. You’ve… become important to us in a way we didn’t expect. And maybe that’s why seeing you with them was so hard.” He took a deep breath, his eyes full of unspoken words. “Because we care about you,more than we probably should.”

Damon shifted, his usual bravado fading as he finally met your gaze. “He’s right,” he said quietly, a rare sincerity in his voice. “Look, I don’t do this whole ‘feelings’ thing, but… yeah, you matter. And maybe that scares me more than I’d like to admit.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy and electric, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The fierce protectiveness, the jealousy, the vulnerability, they had all been signs, masked behind layers of bravado and denial.

After a moment, you took a deep breath, your gaze softening as you looked at them. “I understand now. And maybe… maybe I feel something too,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you can protect me from everything. I need to be able to make my own choices, even if they involve the Mikaelsons.”

Damon sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, we get it. We’ll back off… a little. But don’t expect us to stay quiet if those Originals start playing games.”

Stefan nodded, giving you a small smile. “We trust you. And we’ll be here, no matter what you decide.”

With that, an unspoken understanding settled between you, a recognition of the complex feelings swirling between you all. And as you left that night, you knew that whatever lay ahead, with the Salvatore brothers, the Mikaelsons, or the ghosts of the past, you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

After the heated conversation, the atmosphere in the boarding house has softened slightly. The tension between you and the Salvatores seems to have loosened its grip, and they’re no longer brimming with protective anger. Instead, Damon is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, studying you with his usual half-smirk, while Stefan is seated on the couch, still watching you with that cautious yet gentle look. They might still be worried, but you’ve made your point clear, and for now, that’s enough.

You take a deep breath, realizing that maybe this is the perfect time to lighten the mood and remind them, and yourself, that life doesn’t have to be all danger and drama. A glint of excitement shines in your eyes as you turn to face them both.

“So,” you start, a playful smile spreading across your face. “Speaking of needing you two… I have a favor to ask.”

Damon raises an eyebrow, looking at you curiously. “A favor, huh? Haven’t we done enough heroic, life-saving duties for the day?”

“Oh, relax, Damon,” you say with a laugh. “I’m not asking you to save my life or anything.” You pause, glancing at Stefan, who’s watching you with a small, intrigued smile. “I wanted to ask if you’d go to prom with me.”

Both of them look momentarily stunned. Prom probably isn’t something they’d expected you to bring up, especially not in the middle of this entire Mikaelson drama. But as the surprise fades, you can see a hint of something else in their expressions, something warm, something that speaks of a life they’ve nearly forgotten.

Damon recovers first, his smirk growing into a full-blown grin. “Prom, huh? I haven’t been to one of those in… well, let’s just say it’s been a while. Are you really asking us?”

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile as you cross your arms. “Yes, you two. I mean, technically, it’s supposed to be a date thing, but seeing as I’m not exactly swimming in options that don’t involve ancient, overly charming Originals, I figured I’d bring my two favorite guys along.” You give them a playful nudge. “Come on, are you in?”

Stefan chuckles, leaning back on the couch with an expression that’s somewhere between nostalgia and amusement. “I never pictured myself going to another prom, but… if you’re asking, how could I say no?” There’s something soft in his tone, a sincerity that warms you. He’s been through so much darkness that the thought of a simple, carefree night must sound almost like a distant dream.

Damon, however, seems less sentimental and more intrigued. He steps closer, eyeing you with that familiar glint of mischief. “So, let me get this straight. You want both of us to be your dates to prom? You realize that’s going to turn a few heads, don’t you?”

You laugh, nodding. “Oh, I’m counting on it. I mean, if I’m going to prom, I may as well go all out. And besides…” You hesitate, a flicker of honesty slipping through. “After everything that’s been going on, I kind of just want one normal night. And I couldn’t think of two people I’d rather spend it with.”

For a moment, the lighthearted tone shifts, and there’s a silence that feels like understanding, like they realize what you’re really asking. It’s not just a night at prom, it’s a chance to escape the weight of the supernatural world, to remember what it’s like to feel young and carefree.

Stefan’s expression softens, and he gives you a gentle smile. “Then we’re in. We’ll make it a night to remember.”

Damon chuckles, but there’s a glimmer of something real in his eyes as he nods in agreement. “Fine, we’re in. But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.” He gives you a sly smile. “I’ll make sure to get us a limo, maybe even some flowers. A real prom experience.”

You raise an eyebrow, grinning. “Flowers, Damon? Are you actually saying you’ll go all out?”

“Hey,” he protests, feigning offense, “if I’m going to be one of your dates, I’ve got to bring my A-game. Besides,” he adds with a smirk, “I think I might enjoy this whole ‘normal life’ thing for a change. Plus, it’ll be fun to watch everyone’s reaction when you show up with not one, but two dates.”

You can’t help but laugh, already picturing the scandalized looks, the whispers. It’s a tempting thought, but more than that, you feel a warmth growing in your chest at the idea of a night with Damon and Stefan by your side, where, just for a few hours, you could all forget the supernatural chaos.

Stefan’s expression shifts as he stands, his tone quieter but full of genuine excitement. “It’s a good idea, Y/N. After everything, I think we all need this.”

“Agreed,” Damon says, his usual sarcasm replaced by something softer. “So, prom it is. I hope you’re ready to be the center of attention because something tells me this night’s going to make a splash.”

You nod, feeling a surge of excitement. For the first time in a long while, you feel a flicker of that simple thrill, that feeling of looking forward to something without any hidden dangers or secrets lurking around the corner. The thought of going to prom with the Salvatores, of having an evening where you can just be, it’s exactly what you need.

“Then it’s a date,” you say with a grin, looking between Damon and Stefan.

Damon raises his glass in a mock toast, his smirk widening. “To prom. And to making everyone at Mystic Falls High question exactly how you managed to score two dates.”

Stefan laughs, clinking his glass against Damon’s, a relaxed smile on his face as he glances at you. “And here’s to you, Y/N. For knowing how to keep us on our toes.”

Your heart warmed at the sincerity in his words. For a moment, the weight of Mystic Falls, the dangers, the past, the uncertainties, melted away. This felt real, uncomplicated by secrets and rivalries. Just you and the two people who, despite the chaos, had come to mean so much.

When the night of prom arrived, you felt an excited nervousness settle in as you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the elegant gown you’d chosen. It was a deep, rich color, one that brought out the warmth in your eyes and made you feel almost like a character from an old romance novel. As you looked at your reflection, you could hardly believe that tonight was finally here, that you were about to share a moment like this with Damon and Stefan.

In the hours leading up to prom, the Salvatore boarding house buzzed with an energy usually reserved for battles, not ballroom dances. But tonight was different. Tonight, Damon and Stefan were putting in effort that went far beyond the usual suit-and-tie routine. They were getting ready for prom with you, a night that had come to mean far more than either of them initially realized.

Damon stood in front of the mirror, his tailored black suit fitting him perfectly. He smoothed his lapel, inspecting himself with a critical eye, his usual cocky grin absent as he actually considered his appearance. The suit had been specially selected for the night, a sleek, modern cut that hugged his frame just right, exuding a devil-may-care charm that was so quintessentially Damon.

“Looking a bit serious there, aren’t we?” Stefan’s voice came from across the room. He was meticulously brushing his hair, his suit equally tailored to perfection, a classic, timeless look that spoke to his sense of elegance and quiet confidence.

Damon smirked, brushing his hand over his jacket. “Can’t help it, little brother. Tonight’s a big night.” His voice carried a hint of excitement masked under his usual sarcasm, though Stefan wasn’t fooled.

“Big night, or big ego?” Stefan countered with a grin, adjusting his cufflinks. His suit was a deep charcoal black, accentuating his calm, refined aura. He’d chosen it specifically to match your dress after overhearing you mention the color once. Stefan ran a hand through his hair one last time, making sure each strand was in place.

“Say what you will,” Damon replied, ignoring the jab as he spritzed some cologne on his wrist, dabbing it against his neck. “But I’m just making sure I’m at my best tonight. We have competition.” He shot a look at Stefan in the mirror, referencing the lingering threat of the Mikaelsons, who had made their interest in you known a little too clearly for the Salvatore brothers’ liking.

Stefan rolled his eyes, his tone turning more serious. “Right, because a few sprays of cologne are going to keep the Originals away.” He tightened his tie with a practiced ease, still watching Damon with a bemused expression.

But Damon was already unscrewing the cap of his cologne again, this time going in for another spritz… and then another. “I’m just being thorough,” he shrugged, giving himself a liberal amount, until the scent filled the entire room in a thick, woodsy cloud.

Stefan coughed, waving a hand to clear the air. “Thorough? Damon, you’re basically choking the room at this point,” he complained, though his tone was amused. “Do you actually want her to smell anything else tonight?”

Damon shrugged, unbothered, his smirk widening. “What? She likes it. And it’s not like I’m risking smelling like Old Spice and regret like some people.” He shot Stefan a teasing look.

Stefan gave an exasperated sigh, but his eyes held a glint of humor. “Alright, alright. Let’s just try to leave her some oxygen to breathe tonight.”

Ignoring his brother’s complaints, Damon checked himself out in the mirror one last time, his gaze slightly softer as he thought about seeing you. “She deserves a proper prom night,” he murmured, more to himself than to Stefan. For a second, a look of genuine anticipation flickered in his eyes, something vulnerable and uncharacteristic, a glimpse of his softer side. “One she’ll remember.”

Stefan watched him for a moment, his own expression softening. “Agreed.”

The truth was, neither of them would admit it, but they were both nervous. The idea of a regular night where they could just enjoy your company, no threats, no looming dangers, was something they both hadn’t realized they craved until now. They wanted this night to be special for you, and, perhaps secretly, for themselves, too.

Stefan brushed his hair one last time, giving his reflection a final, approving nod. Damon adjusted his collar, straightening the lapel and flashing one last, self-assured grin in the mirror.

“Shall we?” Damon gestured toward the stairs, but as they both walked toward the door, Stefan couldn’t help but stop, catching a whiff of Damon’s overwhelming cologne. He raised an eyebrow, giving Damon a smirk.

“If she faints tonight, it won’t be from excitement,” he said dryly.

Damon laughed, waving him off. “Oh, please. She’ll love it. Besides, no one will be able to ignore my charm when I walk into that room.”

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and you opened it to find the Salvatore brothers standing there, both dressed in sharp, tailored suits. They looked every bit the part of classic gentlemen, yet each in their own way. Stefan with his calm, reassuring smile and Damon with his roguish smirk, his gaze lingering on you with open admiration.

“You look… incredible,” Stefan said softly, his eyes alight with warmth as he took in your appearance.

Damon stepped forward, his eyes glinting with his usual mischief, but there was a sincerity there that made your heart skip. “Well, princess, if I’d known you’d clean up this well, I would’ve asked you out sooner.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress your smile. “Thank you. You both look… well, let’s just say the tuxes suit you.”

As they each offered you an arm, you slipped yours through theirs, feeling a thrill of excitement as you walked out of your house with the two of them by your side. Arriving at the prom with both Stefan and Damon drew some curious glances, whispers trailing behind you. But you ignored it all, your focus on the magic of the night and the two people who’d made it feel so special.

As the night went on, the three of you laughed, danced, and shared stories, the usual weight of Mystic Falls lifted, if only for a few hours. You found yourself captivated by Damon’s sharp wit, his playful remarks making you laugh more than you had in ages, while Stefan’s gentle kindness made you feel safe, his quiet strength grounding you in a way that felt natural and right.

When a slow song began, Damon gave Stefan a quick nod and took your hand, leading you to the dance floor. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, his intense blue eyes locking onto yours as the two of you swayed in rhythm. For a moment, the world shrank to just the two of you, and you could feel the connection between you, a pull, a shared understanding, deeper than either of you could deny.

After the song ended, Damon reluctantly stepped back, giving Stefan a turn. Stefan’s touch was soft, his hand resting gently on your back as he guided you through the next song. There was a gentleness in his gaze, a tenderness that made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you hadn’t before. As he held you, his eyes never left yours, and you could sense that he, too, felt something he couldn’t quite put into words.

When the music finally stopped, the three of you lingered on the dance floor, sharing a quiet, meaningful moment. Damon’s smirk softened as he glanced between you and Stefan, a flicker of genuine contentment in his expression.

“I’ll admit it,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “This was a pretty good idea.”

Stefan chuckled, nodding. “Agreed. I’m glad you asked us.”

You smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness as you looked between the two of them. “Thank you… for making this night unforgettable.”

And as the three of you stood there, bathed in the glow of the twinkling lights, you knew that this was more than just a prom night. It was a memory, a rare and precious moment of peace and joy in a world filled with shadows. Whatever the future held, you knew this night would always be a reminder of the bond you shared, and the feelings that had quietly taken root between you and the Salvatores, feelings that promised to grow, even amid the turmoil of Mystic Falls.

The music at the Mystic Falls High gym is loud, pulsing with a beat that reverberates through the room, blending with the cheerful shouts and laughter of the students on the dance floor. The air is filled with the scents of perfume, cologne, and the faint aroma of punch. Damon and Stefan stand at the edge of the room, keeping a watchful eye on you as you move through the crowd in your elegant dress, the color complimenting your skin and the lights reflecting in your eyes. For the first time in what feels like forever, you’re smiling, carefree, sharing a moment with friends, soaking in the thrill of the night.

You glanced around, your instincts screaming that something was wrong. A figure in the shadows near the entrance caught your eye, his silhouette tall and ominous. Mikael. You knew the stories, heard the tales of his ruthless pursuit of the Originals, but he had never set his sights on you, until now.

Before Damon or Stefan could notice, you slipped quietly out the side door, hoping that maybe you could lure him away from the prom, away from everyone you cared about. But as soon as you stepped outside, you could feel Mikael’s presence, looming and heavy, like a predator stalking its prey. You took a deep breath, moving quickly down the empty school hallway, hearing the faintest echo of his footsteps behind you.

The announcement for prom royalty echoes over the speakers, and the crowd’s cheers swell as your name is called. “And this year’s prom Queen is… Y/N Gilbert!” The room erupts into applause, and heads turn, waiting for you to step forward.

But you don’t move. Damon’s playful smirk drops as he scans the crowd, his brows knitting in concern when he doesn’t see you. Stefan is quick to follow suit, his eyes darting around the gym, searching for any sign of you.

“Where did she go?” Damon mutters, the hint of worry creeping into his tone as he starts to push through the crowd, Stefan close behind.

“She was right here a minute ago,” Stefan’s brow furrowed, his eyes darting through the crowd

Damon didn’t wait another second. He pulled out his phone, ready to call you, when suddenly, it buzzed in his hand. Your name flashed on the screen, and he immediately pressed the answer button.

“Y/N? Where are you?” Damon’s voice was edged with worry.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps as you whispered into the phone, “Damon… Mikael is here. He’s… he’s chasing me. I had to leave the prom—I didn’t want him hurting anyone else.”

The weight of your words hung heavy, and Stefan’s eyes widened as he picked up on the conversation. He moved closer, trying to listen, his face contorted with worry and determination.

“Where are you?” Damon’s tone sharpened, the protective side of him igniting at the mention of Mikael’s name.

“I… I think I’m near the science wing. I’m trying to stay ahead of him, but he’s… fast.”

Stefan took the phone from Damon, his voice calm but urgent as he spoke. “Stay where you are, Y/N. We’re coming to get you. Don’t try to face him alone.”

You swallowed hard, glancing over your shoulder as Mikael’s silhouette emerged at the end of the hallway, his cold eyes locked onto you. “I’ll try. Just… hurry.”

With that, you ended the call, your heart pounding as you backed up, searching for an escape route. But Mikael’s predatory gaze never left you, his every step deliberate as he stalked toward you.

Damon and Stefan didn’t waste a second. They pushed through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances as they headed for the exit. Damon’s jaw was clenched, his eyes blazing with determination. “If he lays a hand on her…”

Stefan placed a steadying hand on Damon’s shoulder, his own face grim. “We’ll get to her first.”

They moved quickly through the dimly lit corridors, following the faint sound of your heartbeat, a skill both brothers had perfected over the years. The closer they got, the louder your heartbeat became, each rapid thump a painful reminder of the danger you were facing.

Meanwhile, you darted around the corner, your breathing shallow as you tried to stay quiet. But Mikael was relentless, his pace unwavering as he followed the trail of your scent. Every door you passed, every hallway you ducked into, seemed to only draw him closer.

“Do you really think you can outrun me?” Mikael’s voice echoed down the corridor, cold and taunting. “You may look like her, but you are not Katherine. You’re weaker, more… vulnerable.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you clutched your phone tightly, hoping that Damon and Stefan were close. You could feel your strength waning, the adrenaline beginning to fade as the reality of your situation set in. But you knew you couldn’t let him see your fear.

You turned to face him, standing tall despite the tremor in your hands. “I’m not afraid of you, Mikael.”

He chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Brave words for someone so… fragile. I’ve taken down creatures far stronger than you.”

Damon and Stefan moved swiftly through the winding corridors of Mystic Falls High, their steps purposeful and their expressions set with determination. You were out there, facing Mikael alone, and every second counted. Nothing mattered more than reaching you. Their thoughts were focused solely on getting to you before Mikael had a chance to harm you.

But as they turned a corner in the empty hallway, they came face-to-face with none other than Klaus, Elijah, and Kol. The Mikaelson brothers stood there, blocking their path, each wearing an expression that ranged from mild curiosity to amusement.

“Where are you two rushing off to in such a hurry?” Klaus asked, his voice light but laced with intrigue. “Don’t tell me there’s trouble brewing at the Mystic Falls High prom.”

Damon shot him a dark look, jaw clenched. “We don’t have time for this, Klaus. Get out of our way.”

Kol smirked, stepping closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What’s the urgency, boys? You seem… tense. Care to share?”

Stefan cast a quick glance down the hall, clearly itching to move past them. “This isn’t any of your business. We need to go.”

But Elijah, with his usual composed demeanor, raised an eyebrow. “If this concerns Mystic Falls and involves my father, I’d say it is our business. What’s going on?”

Damon’s patience snapped. “Mikael’s after Y/N. She’s out there, alone, and we’re not wasting another second talking about it.”

Klaus’s smile faded instantly, replaced by a look of concern, and something else that flickered briefly in his eyes, something dark and protective. He exchanged a quick glance with his brothers, and for once, the usual rivalry between the Salvatores and the Mikaelsons seemed to fade.

“If Mikael’s after Y/N,” Klaus said, his voice low and dangerous, “then you’ll need all the help you can get. She’s valuable to us, too.”

Damon sneered, clearly unconvinced by the sudden show of camaraderie. “Right, because you care so much. Spare us the act, Klaus.”

But Elijah stepped forward, his gaze earnest. “This isn’t an act. Mikael’s vendetta is reckless and cruel, and if Y/N’s caught in his crossfire, it affects us all. Let us help.”

For a tense moment, Damon and Stefan stood there, sizing up the Originals. They knew the Mikaelsons had their own motives, but this wasn’t the time to argue. You were in danger, and any delay only gave Mikael more time to close in on you.

Finally, Stefan gave a quick nod. “Fine. But stay out of our way.”

Without waiting for a response, Damon and Stefan turned and resumed their sprint, and the Mikaelsons followed, their footsteps falling in sync as they raced through the school, united in a rare truce for the sake of protecting you.

As they approached the science wing, Damon’s ears picked up on a faint, familiar heartbeat, yours. It was rapid, but strong, and it propelled him forward even faster. When they rounded the corner, they spotted you at the end of the hall, trapped between Mikael and a row of lockers, his looming figure casting a shadow over you.

In an instant, the Salvatores and the Mikaelsons moved as one. Damon and Stefan surged forward, drawing Mikael’s attention away from you, while Elijah and Klaus moved to your side, each taking a protective stance in front of you.

Mikael turned, his expression twisting with disdain as he faced the five men now blocking his path. “Well, isn’t this a touching little reunion,” he sneered. “The Salvatore brothers and my wayward children, all coming together for a mortalgirl.”

Damon’s eyes blazed, his voice a deadly growl. “Call her that again, and you’ll regret it.”

Klaus smirked, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze as he added, “You always did underestimate the people we care about, Father. But tonight, you’re going to regret it.”

Mikael’s face darkened, but before he could respond, Kol lunged forward with supernatural speed, striking the first blow. The others followed suit, surrounding Mikael in a whirlwind of force, each blow fierce and unyielding. Damon and Stefan fought side by side with the Mikaelsons, their combined strength holding Mikael at bay, pushing him back with every strike.

Meanwhile, Elijah turned to you, his voice gentle despite the chaos. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, still catching your breath. “No… but thank you.”

He nodded, a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Stay behind us. We won’t let him near you again.”

Klaus threw a look over his shoulder, his voice laced with unexpected concern. “Get her out of here, Elijah. We’ll handle this.”

But you stepped forward, determination flaring in your eyes. “I’m not leaving any of you to face him alone. He came here for me, and I won’t run.”

Damon, catching the exchange, shot you a quick look, his expression both exasperated and protective. “Stubborn as ever, aren’t you?” he muttered, though there was a hint of admiration in his voice.

Finally, with one final, powerful blow from Klaus, Mikael staggered back, his eyes blazing with anger. He took a moment to assess the line of his enemies, his gaze moving from the Salvatores to the Mikaelsons, before he gave a cold, bitter laugh.

“You think this is over?” he sneered, locking eyes with each of you. “This girl is a weakness, a liability. She’ll be the end of you all.”

With that, Mikael disappeared into the shadows, his promise lingering ominously in the air.

As silence fell, Damon turned to you, his shoulders relaxing as he took in the sight of you, safe and unharmed. He moved toward you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Next time, don’t run off without us. Got it?”

You managed a shaky smile. “Got it.”

Stefan gave you a gentle smile, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “We’re glad you’re okay.”

Klaus watched the exchange, his expression thoughtful, though he quickly masked it with his usual cool demeanor. “Looks like we’re all a bit protective, aren’t we?”

Damon glanced at Klaus, the usual animosity softened, if only for the moment. “This doesn’t mean we’re friends, Klaus. But… thanks.”

Klaus smirked, giving a nod. “Trust me, Salvatore, it’s a one-time alliance. But you’re welcome.”

With that, the Mikaelsons turned, disappearing down the hall, leaving you and the Salvatores in a rare, quiet moment. Stefan pulled you close, and Damon wrapped his arm around you, a silent promise of protection.

As you walked out of the school, flanked by the Salvatores, you felt a sense of gratitude and belonging. No matter what threats loomed, you knew you weren’t alone, and with Damon and Stefan by your side, you could face anything.

The night was finally quiet as you stood in the empty school parking lot with Damon and Stefan by your side, each of them visibly relieved that you were safe. After everything that had happened, you felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude and affection for them, and without a second thought, you pulled both of them into a warm, thankful hug.

Damon’s arms wrapped around you first, holding you protectively, while Stefan smiled softly, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. For a moment, everything felt right, a rare moment of peace in Mystic Falls. But just as you closed your eyes, letting the safety of their embrace sink in, a voice cut through the silence, sending a chill down your spine.

As you walked out of the school with Damon and Stefan on either side, a sense of calm finally settled over you. The night had been intense, terrifying even, but you had made it through with them by your side. Their presence grounded you, and the silent comfort they offered was all you needed. You came to a stop, turning to face both of them, and a small smile spread across your face.

“Thank you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around both of them in a warm embrace. It was a moment you had needed, to feel safe, supported, and understood. Damon rested his chin on your head, his usual smirk replaced by a rare, soft expression, while Stefan’s arms wrapped protectively around you.

But the moment was short-lived.

A familiar voice, smooth and taunting, cut through the quiet, sending a chill down your spine. “Well, isn’t this touching?”

You froze, your heart thudding as you slowly turned to see Katherine Pierce standing a few feet away, her lips curled into a smug smile as she took in the scene before her.

Damon and Stefan’s relaxed postures vanished instantly. They stepped in front of you, shielding you from Katherine as their gazes hardened. Damon crossed his arms, his tone sharp and suspicious. “Katherine. What are you doing back in town?”

Stefan’s eyes narrowed, his stance protective. “Last I heard, you had no reason to be here.”

Katherine ignored them, her eyes locking onto you with a look that was both intense and unnervingly affectionate. She took a step closer, her gaze appraising. “I came back for my daughter,” she said, her voice smooth but carrying a weight of finality. “And I’m not leaving without her.”

Your breath caught in your throat, her words settling heavily as the truth began to dawn on you. Daughter. The word echoed in your mind, sharp and disorienting. You glanced between Damon and Stefan, your shock mirrored in their expressions as they exchanged a stunned look.

Damon was the first to break the silence, his voice thick with disbelief and anger. “Wait. Your daughter? Since when do you have a daughter?”

Katherine’s smirk only deepened. “Oh, come now, Damon. Did you think my life began and ended with you two? There’s so much you don’t know.”

You took a shaky step forward, your eyes never leaving Katherine’s. “What… are you talking about?”

Katherine’s gaze softened, though there was a glint of something almost predatory in her eyes as she looked at you. “You’re my blood, Y/N. My own flesh and blood. You may have thought Elena was your only family, but there’s more to the story than anyone told you.”

Stefan’s voice was cold, his protective side flaring as he stepped closer to you. “If this is some twisted game, Katherine, it ends now. She’s been through enough tonight.”

Katherine held her hands up in mock innocence, a hint of amusement in her gaze. “Oh, don’t worry, Stefan. I don’t intend to hurt her. Quite the opposite, in fact. I want her to come with me, to leave this dull little town behind and be a part of something bigger.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed, a mix of anger and suspicion clouding his expression. “After everything you’ve put us through, you expect us to just hand her over to you?”

Katherine let out a low chuckle. “I don’t expect anything from you, Damon. But Y/N deserves to know the truth. She deserves to know who she really is.”

Your heart pounded as you stared at Katherine, every instinct telling you to be wary, yet something in her gaze drew you in. There was a strange familiarity in her face, a resemblance you had always ignored, but now couldn’t deny. The way her eyes sparkled, the way her smirk mirrored your own… it was like seeing pieces of yourself in someone else.

But confusion and hurt welled up within you, and you shook your head, taking a step back. “Why now? Why would you show up now, after all these years, and claim to be my mother?”

Katherine’s expression softened, but there was still a calculating edge to her gaze. “Because, my dear, I’ve kept my distance to protect you. But things have changed.“

Damon clenched his fists, stepping between you and Katherine once more, his voice filled with a dark warning. “If you think we’ll let you just waltz in and drag her into your mess, you’re delusional. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Stefan’s eyes darkened, his protective instincts kicking in as he placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “She has a life here, Katherine. Friends, people who care about her. You can’t just claim her like a prize and expect her to follow you.”

Katherine arched an eyebrow, her tone sharp. “Oh, but I can. Because I am her mother, and I’ve done everything in my power to keep her hidden from the dangers that haunt my life. Unlike you, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”

You swallowed hard, emotions swirling inside you, fear, anger, disbelief, and something you couldn’t quite place. A strange curiosity that tugged at the edges of your mind. You looked at Damon and Stefan, their faces set with determination, a silent promise that they wouldn’t let Katherine take you without a fight. But part of you couldn’t help but wonder if there was truth to Katherine’s words.

“What if… what if she’s telling the truth?” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

Stefan looked down at you, his expression softening as he saw the confusion in your eyes. “Y/N, whatever she’s saying, you don’t have to go with her. You don’t owe her anything.”

Damon’s gaze flickered with a protective intensity as he nodded in agreement. “She’s lied more times than I can count. She’s only ever looked out for herself.”

But Katherine’s voice broke through, filled with conviction. “You may not trust me, but you can’t deny the truth of who you are. Y/N, you’re stronger than you know, and I’m the only one who can help you tap into that power. I can teach you things these two never could.”

The offer hung in the air, and Katherine’s gaze never wavered as she held her hand out to you, an invitation and a challenge. “Come with me, Y/N. Let me show you what you’re truly capable of.”

You stared at her outstretched hand, a part of you tempted by the mystery she promised to reveal. But as you glanced at Damon and Stefan, standing resolutely by your side, their loyalty and love a constant reminder of the life you had built here, you felt torn.

With a shaky breath, you looked Katherine in the eye, your voice steadier than you felt. “Maybe you are my mother. Maybe there’s a part of me that wants to know more… but I’m not going anywhere with you. I belong here, with people who care about me.”

Damon placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his voice full of quiet pride. “She made her choice, Katherine. And it’s not you.”

Katherine’s face hardened, her gaze flicking between the three of you. “Fine,” she spat, her voice laced with venom. “But don’t think this is over. You may feel safe now, but one day, you’ll need me. And when that day comes, don’t expect the same kindness I’m offering now.”

With a final, piercing look, Katherine spun on her heel, disappearing into the shadows, leaving a cold silence in her wake.

You stood there, your mind still racing, and Stefan wrapped his arm around you, his warmth a balm against the lingering chill Katherine left behind. “You don’t have to face this alone, Y/N,” he murmured. “We’re here. Always.”

Damon gave you a reassuring smile, his arm slinging protectively around your shoulders. “And if Katherine comes back? She’ll have to go through us first.”

As the Salvatores led you into your house, you could barely hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. The events of the night, the encounter with Mikael, the terrifying chase, and Katherine’s bombshell revelation, had left you feeling raw and exposed. Damon kept a gentle hand on your back as you walked through the door, while Stefan lingered beside you, offering silent support.

Once inside, you caught a glimpse of Elena waiting in the living room. She rose to her feet the moment she saw you, concern etched across her face, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her. Without a word, you brushed past her, tears gathering in your eyes as you hurried up the stairs. You heard her call your name, but you just couldn’t deal with her questions or confusion right now. All you wanted was a moment alone to process the whirlwind of emotions tearing through you.

Elena’s face fell as she watched you disappear upstairs, her brow furrowing in confusion. She turned her gaze toward Damon and Stefan, who remained in the entryway, both of them looking grim and exhausted. She crossed her arms, an angry spark flaring in her eyes. “Alright,” she demanded, her voice sharp. “What happened? Why is my sister, no, my twin, crying?”

Damon sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, clearly in no mood for another confrontation. “Elena, it’s been a long night. Maybe we can talk about this in the morning.”

But Elena wasn’t having it. She planted herself firmly in front of them, blocking their path as her gaze darted between the two brothers. “No. I want answers. You two were supposed to protect her, and now she’s up there crying her heart out! What did you do?”

Stefan’s jaw tightened, his usual calm demeanor wavering as he glanced up the stairs, clearly worried about you. He looked back at Elena, his tone soft but steady. “It wasn’t us, Elena. Katherine showed up tonight.”

Elena blinked, taken aback, and for a moment, her angry expression faltered. “Katherine?” She let out an exasperated sigh. “What does she have to do with any of this?”

Damon’s eyes darkened, his expression guarded. “She’s the reason Y/N was crying. Katherine… she told her something. Something that none of us saw coming.”

Elena rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “What, that she has some new plan to ruin our lives? Or that she’s out to hurt us all again?” She crossed her arms tighter, an edge of skepticism in her voice.

Stefan took a step closer, his expression serious. “No, Elena. She told Y/N that she’s her mother.”

Elena’s mouth dropped open, and then she let out a short, incredulous laugh. “What? You can’t be serious. That’s just… Katherine being Katherine. She’s playing one of her twisted games, and you two actually believe her?”

Damon crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “We don’t know for sure, but it hit Y/N hard. Katherine told her she came back specifically because Mikael was after her, and that the only reason she stayed away this long was to protect her.”

Elena scoffed, rolling her eyes again. “And you actually think that’s true? Katherine only looks out for herself. She’s lied to all of us more times than I can count. This is just another manipulation tactic to get under Y/N’s skin, and clearly, it worked.”

Stefan looked at her, a flicker of frustration in his usually composed expression. “It’s not that simple, Elena. Katherine seemed… different. She was cold, but there was something else in her eyes when she looked at Y/N. Something real. And Y/N feels it too, even if she doesn’t know what to make of it.”

Elena’s eyes blazed with anger as she shook her head, disbelief twisting her features. “So, let me get this straight. Katherine shows up, spins some ridiculous story about being Y/N’s mother, and you two just… believe her? She’s doing this to mess with her head, to make her doubt herself, and you’re playing right into it.”

Damon’s face hardened, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “Elena, believe what you want, but you didn’t see the way Y/N reacted. She’s not just upset, she’s questioning everything about her life right now. Katherine got to her in a way none of us expected, and if there’s even a chance that she’s telling the truth, then Y/N has the right to know.”

Elena let out a frustrated noise, pacing back and forth. “She has a family, me, and she’s letting Katherine, of all people, get inside her head. It’s exactly what Katherine wants! You two were supposed to protect her from people like her, not indulge in her twisted mind games.”

Stefan’s patience seemed to wear thin as he stepped closer to Elena, his tone firm. “We’re trying to protect her, Elena. But this isn’t just some lie we can brush off. For Y/N, this is about her identity. Whether it’s true or not, she deserves the space to figure it out without us dismissing her feelings.”

Elena’s expression hardened, and she shot them both an accusatory glare. “So, what, you’re just going to let Katherine manipulate her, twist her around until she doesn’t know who she is? I thought you cared about her.”

Damon’s eyes flared with anger, his voice sharp. “We do care, Elena. That’s why we’re letting her make her own choices. She’s strong, stronger than you’re giving her credit for. This isn’t about controlling her; it’s about giving her the support she needs.”

Elena scoffed, disbelief still evident in her tone. “Right. Support. By letting Katherine just walk into her life and saying that My twin is her daughter.”

Stefan shook his head, his voice calm but unyielding. “Elena, if you want to help, then be there for her when she’s ready to talk. She needs her family right now, and that includes you. But we can’t ignore the possibility that there’s more to her story than we know.”

Elena opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything, a quiet sound drifted down from the stairs, a muffled sob, barely audible but enough to pierce through the tense silence in the room.

All three of them paused, their gazes turning toward the stairs. The anger in Elena’s expression softened, replaced by a flicker of worry as she listened to the sound of your crying. A moment passed, and she let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping slightly as she seemed to grapple with her frustration and concern.

Damon glanced at her, his tone softening. “She’s up there, questioning everything she thought she knew. We’re not asking you to believe Katherine, we’re just asking you to be there for her, to understand what she’s going through.”

Elena looked at him, her expression conflicted, but finally nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Fine. I’ll… try. But I don’t trust Katherine, and neither should any of you.”

Stefan gave her a small, reassuring nod. “None of us trust her, Elena. But right now, Y/N needs us to support her. We’ll deal with Katherine later.”

With a final, wary look, Elena relented, letting the tension slip from her posture. Damon and Stefan exchanged a relieved glance, and with a quiet sigh, they moved toward the stairs to check on you, hoping that when the time came, all of you could face the truth together, whatever it turned out to be.