#writing in the documentary is [viago voice] so. much. fun!

[nandorsaccent]

‧₊˚✩ if this is the end, i want a boyfriend (pt. i) ‧₊˚✩

pairings: viago x gn!human!reader

rating: sfw, pg if you ignore everything in the warnings, pg-13 if you don’t, it's all fluff babes

warnings: floating around the idea of murder, mentions of vampire food, reader is a walking exclamation mark, lana del rey lyrics for title

word count for this chapter: 1,179

“I try to make it a really nice night for the people since it is their last night alive,” Viago explained into the camera after knocking on your front door. “So, I’m going to take this human out on a date, which was their idea, actually. Usually, I spend some time at the human’s house, maybe play them a song, and just give them a good time in the comfort of their own home before I kill them, but this one wanted to go out.” He gave a nervous smile to the lens as the knob to the front door turned. “I think it’s going to be a really fun night.”

“Viago!” you said happily when you opened the door, greeting him with a hug.

His eyes widened in surprise for a moment before returning the embrace. He couldn’t help but turn his head away from you to surreptitiously bare his teeth. You smelled so good that he wanted to eat you right then, but he was determined to be a gentleman and give you one last lovely night.

When you pulled away, he got to notice your appearance. You were all done up, beaming and undoubtedly proud of the effort that you put into your looks. Though your smile was bright and joyful, there was a little sense of nervousness in your eyes that he understood himself. He must have gotten a little too caught up in your beauty, because he didn’t notice your wide eyes and inquisitive frown until you were directly asking him about the cameras.

“It’s for a documentary,” he answered quickly, biting his lip.

You furrowed your brows before laughing amicably.

“A documentary!” you exclaimed, evidently quite amused. “How neat!"

To everyone’s surprise, you introduced yourself to each cameraperson, boom operator, and lighting technician, shaking hands with all of them. Viago couldn’t help the fondness in his eyes as he watched you with your vibrancy until you placed your arm in his and told him to lead the way to the late-night cafe you had both chosen for the night.

The evening air was cool and perfect for a stroll. You lived a little bit outside of Wellington, where the light pollution wasn’t quite as bad as inside of the city. You pointed out constellations and stars to him as you walked.

Admittedly, he was watching you more than the sky. Your enthusiasm was infectious. He quickly found that he wasn’t at all immune to the way you glowed.

“That’s Venus,” you explained, “but most people confuse it for a star. Oh, and Mars and Mercury!”

Likewise, you were entirely captivated by his idiosyncrasies. His accent was charming, and he was quite possibly the most darling person you had ever met. He told you about his roommates, scowling when he mentioned that Deacon hadn’t done his chores in years.

“No way,” you said. “Five years?”

“I know right?” Viago replied. “Deacon is a really cool dude, but kind of the too-cool-for-rules type.”

“How do you even have the patience for that?” you questioned. “Back in university, I had a flatmate who never did his own dishes. I couldn’t take it. I kicked him out after three months.”

“Yes, well. Deacon seems to enjoy testing my patience,” he admitted.

“Have you tried just getting paper plates?” you suggested.

He stopped and blinked at you, astonished with the revelation. “No, I guess we haven’t.”

“How about your other roommates? What are they like?” you ask.

“Vladislav is…” He hums, looking for the right word. “Intense, and old-fashioned. Petyr has been around longer than dirt.”

“They sound interesting. Maybe I’ll get to meet them one day,” you mused. His eyes widened. You rushed to backtrack. “Oh my– I’m sorry. Was that too much?”

That’s when you found that Viago had this way of giggling that had your nerves disappear and your heart absolutely melt. You could’ve gotten a toothache with how sweet the sight and sound of it was.

“No, you’re not too much,” he said.

By the time you reached your house, your feet hurt and your stamina was a bit drained, but you were beaming wide.

“I don’t want this night to end,” you confessed with a pout, hands still in his. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off– he was deliriously tempting and you were entirely confident that you wouldn’t be able to reject him if he offered to come inside. “But it has to.”

“I want to see you again,” he admitted.

You stepped into his space, dangling your arms around his neck and running one elegant hand through his dark hair. You stayed there for a moment, appreciating his beauty, using the hand that wasn’t in his hair to run your thumb over his bottom lip. He tilted his head down, his mouth almost touching your neck.

Instead, you tugged at his hair to keep his mouth right where it had been and masked how much it killed you to reject him with a teasing grin. If his lips ended up on your neck, you would absolutely die and your will would be demolished.

“I’m off work Thursday night,” you told him. “Come by around seven?”

He did that thing again– that giddy, crinkled up nose smile. Feeling your patience with yourself run too thin, you kissed him on the cheek and bolted inside.

———

After Viago left, a camera crew requested an interview with you.

“How do I feel about Viago?” you asked, repeating their question back to them.

You shook your head and hid your blushing face in your hands before deciding that hiding it wasn’t enough. You reached for a pillow on your couch, smushed your face into it, and squealed like a little kid. The question was just too much to answer. Everything was too much– the way he made you feel, the excitement of seeing him Wednesday night, how badly you wished to kiss him, the self-pride you felt for being able to control yourself and respect your own boundaries. Everything.

Especially the way he said You’re not too much. He could’ve said that you wanting to meet his roommates wasn’t too much, but no– he said you weren’t too much. You were so used to people finding you to be too much that his little reassurance (which he probably didn’t even realize that he said) played over and over in your head.

“Why didn’t you invite him in?” the interviewer asked.

Your eyes peeked out from behind the pillow and sighed, ready to give a more thoughtful response.

“I have a pretty atrocious romantic history,” you admitted. “That’s why I need to take things slow and not rush headfirst into this. Viago is…” You shook your head and smiled, eyes looking down at the thread you were toying with poking out of the pillow. “He’s just wonderful. I don’t want to mess things up.”

———

“The human? Yeah, I’m definitely going to kill them,” he admitted to the camera lens. He smiled bashfully. “Tonight was nice, though. I think they had a good time.”