Nat

Isadora Capri x vampire!Reader

(English is not my first language) (Part 2) (NSFW) (Mentions of blood) (Blood consumption) (Vampire×Werewolf) (Soulmates explained) (Prohibited for people under 18 years of age) (Denial of instinct) (Denial of feeling) (Verbal violence) (Physical restraint – Full Moon)

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Still in the morning, around 11:36, Y/N had rushed to the infirmary. She had the awkwardness of explaining that she'd hurt herself with her own fangs—which wasn't uncommon for vampires with fang retraction issues or intense emotions.— The nurse said she'd be fine, that it must have been hunger combined with constant stress, and gave her some medication to calm her down further..which didn't really work, but it was worth a try.

After the..incident in the music room made Y/N end up retreating to her room, she called Ajax and had him come get her—with him making a little complaint at first but nothing a little healthy threat about cutting the snakes out of his hair couldn't solve—the artificial blood served at Nevermore...ok, it was just real blood labeled fake, it was the vampires' custom to smuggle blood from the Jericho hospital with a large sum of money for some nurses and some basic threats. No one really believes that vampires would sustain themselves with fake blood, right?

Instead of dwelling on the strange event Y/N didn't want to remember—a clear lie, she was in denial and knew it—she decided to skip afternoon classes and did what she wanted to do in the morning: sleep until dinner. Who, honestly, thought it would be a good idea to have vampires wake up early? It wasn't Mrs. Weems.

Y/N ended up having to "smuggle" a funeral home coffin into the school because, technically, they were kind of banned for student safety; something about suffocating to death..whatever, it's not like she has to worry.

It was a long, relaxing, invigorating afternoon, delightfully spent as a lazy afternoon.

Y/N was a very lazy vampire when she wanted to be, and when she woke up from her long — and, it's important to note, well-deserved — nap, she ended up checking the time; it was 5:30 in the afternoon, dinner would soon be served. With time on her side, Y/N decided to drink most of the blood bags in the room's refrigerator — exclusive to blood, Ajax was cold-blooded and, therefore, because he couldn't regulate his own temperature, he preferred to stay away from cold environments.

You know, it was even fun to avoid a subject; when you avoid it, it never comes to you... at least that's what Y/N thought for a while, while she was sitting on the lid of the closed coffin, staring out the window and watching the sunset — they were windows with glass film against sunlight, blocking about 75% to 80% of the sunlight, normally they would be covered by blackout curtains but, because it was a late sunset which, because it was winter, made the sunset come much earlier, it ended up not being necessary to use the curtains.

Yes, Y/N ate a lot before going down to dinner. Why? Because she just wanted to mingle with other vampires, and for very specific reasons, she wanted to avoid the werewolves. It was the first full moon of the month, and the first blood moon in 60 years that happened to fall on the first full moon of the month. The vampires would gather in the forest clearing to perform a ritual to discover their soulmates.

It's something unique, something that's been happening for thousands of years. Vampires are creatures that age slowly and need lifelong partners, companionship as eternal as their souls.

When Y/N went down to dinner, she ended up joining a group of vampires and, by miscalculation, ended up with a very specific field of view of the werewolves' table. What kind of vision? Isadora Capri. An absurd miscalculation from the very person Y/N was trying to avoid. Why? Should Y/N remind them that she was LICKED? That's weird. Okay, Y/N ended up getting turned on when Mrs. Capri ended up licking her blood and Isadora ended up scratching her tongue on her fangs, making Y/N ingest some of her blood...it was...an irritating...experience.

Y/N was in denial about it, she was truly in denial about everything and anything about Isadora. The night before, Isadora had gone to talk to Y/N — and yes, Y/N was remembering it every moment as if she could guess what the hell Isadora wanted with her, what she wanted to say to her, as if she could read her mind but...she couldn't, obviously. — Y/N felt Mrs. Capri strange, agitated, as if she had just discovered something that would change her life forever. Isadora was acting strange today too, but in a different way...it must have been the blood moon. She said that werewolves became needy for partners, protective, territorial, possessive, and even more aggressive and impulsive when they were under the influence of the blood moon.

Y/N tried to ignore, tried to ignore the looks Isadora was fixing on her among the vampires. Y/N tried at all costs not to look up to only see Isadora with her eyes fixed on her, Mrs. Capri's lightness had disappeared along with the sun going down and the moon gones up. Was it ironic to say that this sent a tremor through Y/N's belly? Maybe...but it did...she'd felt strange ever since she'd tasted Isadora's blood. Deep down, she found herself trying to remember the taste, fantasizing about the sinking of fangs into the side of Isadora's neck and the sinking of teeth, the strong bite, the flowing of blood and...okay, maybe she was describing a common vampire fetish? Let's look on the bright side...it was common...right?

It was somewhere between the time dinner was over, when Isadora was taking the werewolf students to their rooms — so they could be properly restrained for their lack of training and, as their first blood moon...and hers...it was best to keep them away. — and Y/N had a vampire girl putting her arm around her shoulder and showing her fangs, saying something dryly and darkly; it was during this moment that Y/N heard Isadora growl at the vampire and, for safety reasons — and perhaps a lack of self-respect and a genuine fear of being expelled for neglecting her new position as assistant to the music teacher — Y/N followed Isadora to help her with whatever was needed and pretended that nothing had happened that morning.

Y/N was in a dilemma: hate and ignore Isadora or cling to her and stop pretending she didn't love her... because yes, she loved her and felt it. Was the fluid exchange—blood sharing—an early version of the ritual? Maybe. Y/N would probably lose that stupid ritual that never worked for her. The last two times she tried SO hard, she searched until she was almost fried at sunrise and never found a partner... but would this be different? She doubted, there was skepticism and age-old frustration involved, so—for her—such denial was justifiable.

It wasn't like she wanted to fuck her own teacher..

Y/N felt the moment the vampires stepped into the forest, felt a dull ringing in her ears like a call—and ignored it. She was helping to restrain and lock up the last werewolf when Isadora gave her a sharper look, her composure more rigid than usual.

— You didn't say you were dating — The werewolf placed her hands in front of her body, her fingers pressing against each other, connecting her palms as her eyes stared at the vampire locking the last door from the outside.

— And I'm not. — Y/N frowned slightly, her eyes still focused on turning the key slot one last, third time, and straightening the key and removing it, Y/N took the pile of keys by the long, wide ring.

— It didn't look like that when you had a vampire grabbing you. — Isadora arched her eyebrows in a look of irony.

— You didn't look like a teacher during dinner either... you looked like a jealous girlfriend seeing her own wife socializing and getting jealous of her breathing around another woman.

And it was there, right there, in that conversation that went from a small point to a snowball, that Y/N ended up in her current situation: Isadora Capri, half-transformed, tied to the music room with iron chains—never silver—and a gag in her mouth, scratching the floor and whimpering, trying to pull the chains that held her to the wall and trying to get to Y/N.

It was strange to see Isadora like that — having Isadora whimpering, grunting, trying to force her body forward, on her knees, wanting to drag herself to her feet...yes, Y/N felt like she was in some weird erotic dream...Which she would never deny, not even if she had to break her fangs or have to kiss a werewolf and get covered in his sperm to try to fake the possibility of being able to procreate her cubs.

Isadora tried to grunt something, she was trying to chew the gag with her fangs, trying to reach Y/N — Y/N was watching Isadora and, perhaps out of weakness, because she felt that...it was just this once. No one would get hurt, no one would remember; so, why not?

When Y/N noticed, she was already within reach of the werewolf who was grabbing her legs, even with her wrists tied to the hooks fixed to the wall, she hugged Y/N's ears, tried to purr while she stuck her snout against one of Y/N's thighs smelling your scent.

— Calm down, Wolf Girl. I'm here.— Y/N's hand ended up on top of the teacher's disheveled locks, her fingers digging into the strands and beginning a gentle stroke, massaging the werewolf's scalp, who was clinging to Y/N as if she depended on it.

— my beautiful and sweet little wolf..— Y/N's eyes began to darken slowly as the veins around her eyes stood out, her fangs were on display, Y/N held Isadora by the shoulders and pushed her away slightly, falling to her knees in front of the redhead and bringing her hands to the cloth gag, pulling the fabric and removing it from her werewolf's mouth — I need blood.. yours.

— Do you understand that, dear? — Y/N slowly pushed Isadora gently, bringing her hands to the side of her neck, moving up the sides of her head and going to the top of her hair, her fingers passing through the wolf ears at the top — Do you hear me?

Y/N slowly tilted her head as she heard Isadora's low whimpers as she whimpered Y/N's name in supplication, trying to grab her, pulling herself and murmuring "please..." as if she needed oxygen.

— I need blood. —Y/N grabbed the back of Isadora's hair, arching the teacher's body, the vampire took the opportunity to place her face on the side of her neck. — warm...— Her lips brushed against the soft skin, her tongue moistening her lips, which advanced in a local kiss before her tongue came and went straight up to Isadora's pocket spot. — Red..

She crawled up to the line of Isadora's jaw, who moaned at the feat, panting softly. Y/N let her lips wrap around the werewolf's earlobe, sucking it and then giving it a light bite, pulling it between her teeth and releasing. She leaned in a little more, her lips almost touching the semi-transformed werewolf's ear. — Warm, red, blood.

Isadora wasn't even able to react to the attack her neck took when she received a mega side bite that pushed her to the ground and had Y/N's body mounted on her hips.

Isadora let out a surprised moan – something hoarse between pain and pleasure, something strong and intoxicating enough to confuse her brain and make the werewolf dig her nails into the vampire's thighs, tearing the fabric of the jeans and managing to sink her claws into the vampire's pale skin.

It was around two in the morning that things got even more out of hand. Clothes had been ripped, chains had been ripped off, and Y/N was using the chain around her neck as a sort of guide for Isadora to follow exactly what she wanted. Oh, they made a huge mess indeed:

The piano was the scene of intense oral sex; Y/N was sitting on the closed piano, Isadora was placed on the piano bench and, with her knees open, Y/N held Isadora's chin and guided her between her legs, pulling the leash down, trapping Isadora in that space as she also passed her thighs over her shoulders and wrapped her heels around her shoulder blades, only allowing Isadora to breathe between pauses, letting her breathe between one tremor or another of Y/N who ended up weakening or softening on top of the piano according to the approaching orgasm.

Another episode was when they ended up rolling on the floor and Y/N ended up with her thighs between Isadora's, her hands resting on her abdomen and her hips moving in a friction that made both of them moan and scream.

There were so many bites, scratches, bruises, and other types of bruising—which actually drew blood—that it might even be worrying to outsiders. Well...who wouldn't find it disturbing that a vampire student had her back scratched so badly it was bleeding? Much of that blood was consumed by both parties participating in that brilliant scene that shocked even them in the morning, when they woke up naked, bruised, panting and so close to each other that it looked like a honeymoon scene.

Neither of them would talk about the time Isadora pushed Y/N so hard that they broke the shelf of decorative instruments. Y/N ended up with her mouth covered, she was turned so that her back was to Isadora, earning a hard slap on the ass and a knee shoved between her legs, forcing her to spread her thighs wide and hold on to the wall while Isadora stuck two fingers in her and bit her shoulder, licked the line of sweat that ran down the side of her neck, fucking her so roughly that she made the shards of the shelf groan with the impacts that led to the next thrusts.

Isadora will never comment, not even to herself, how exciting the moment she and Y/N kissed was, when Y/N's fingers buried themselves in the back of Isadora's curls and her nails dug into her scalp, her lips took Isadora's and Isadora could feel Y/N's tongue going so deep and exploring with such fervor that it made her weak in the knees and dizzy, but what really made her go crazy was when Y/N sucked her tongue — Ah, at that part Isadora almost declared a marriage and mating proposal.. Even though one of the proposals was being met at the time..

And neither of them would comment on how foul-mouthed they were, how rude they were, and how crazy they were. they both deserved each other and they knew it. Y/N tried to deny it with hatred for werewolves, making rude and inappropriate comments; and Isadora tried to deny it to herself, trying to maintain her demeanor as a teacher and a good professional. They tried, now if they get succeeded...

I absolutely loved this idea! I'm going to make it as long as I can <3

Isadora Capri x Vampire!Reader

I Hate You Werewolf's

(English is not my first language) (Soulmates not yet directly mentioned!) (Part 1) (Alpha!Isadora Capri) (Reader has problems with werewolves.) (Denial of feelings)

In that day everything changed.

What day are we talking about? That damn day that ruined everything.

(headcanons)

(English is not my first language)

She's an anxious person. It's quite noticeable that she talks a lot with her hands and is quite fixated on occupying her fingers with movements in the air, fiddling with rings, necklaces, and clothing fabrics; she even plays with her own curls to keep her fingers occupied with something! Insanely anxious. She always thinks more than six times before doing anything and revises her decision three more times just to be safe.

Isadora hates bright colors and always prefers pastel colors that are more comfortable on the eyes.

Yellow lights, this is one of her sensory comfort passions: Yellow lights in the bedroom and living room. She needs them – White lights are always so bright and cold, they hurt her eyes, especially when they're sensitive to the changing phases of the moon.

Clothing made of cotton or soft fabrics, she rarely wears rough fabrics and always values comfort and lightness. She always wears light, loose-fitting skirts and blouses.

Jeans are high heels that she rarely wears, she would only wear them when she went somewhere that either didn't match her usual skirts and leather boots or wasn't allowed. She gets shy when she wears jeans and, if she dates, she would probably be super shy – but in a disguised way – around her partners since the pants end up giving her better curves and emphasizing her hips.

Isadora is a bit turned on by the idea of her partner sucking her fingers. Running her thumb over their lips and sticking her finger in their mouth? Fucking that throat is her dream.

Isadora needs to be chained up on full moon nights when her heat cycle synchronizes with the moon phase. She goes wild! She even asks her partner to chain her up and lock her in the bedroom for the rest of the night. Which always ends with her in the bedroom, trapped and regretful, crying out for her partner's attention and to be fucked by them.

She sings in the car. Always. No reservations. Does the car have a radio? Well, she'll sing along. No radio? No problem, she'll become the car's playlist.

She loves spending the night watching drama and almost always ends up either crying.

She's addicted to coffee. Isadora always has a bottle of bitter coffee nearby and almost always drinks large quantities when she has to give a presentation or prepare an orchestra, and ends up completely immersed in the rhythm of rehearsals.

Isadora probably goes to therapy and has a diagnosis of generalized anxiety, OCD and high-level first-degree autism, which would explain her rigidity when it comes to socializing, her anxiety, her hyperfocus on music and the way she describes music as if it were the air she breathes.

She probably also has synesthesia and ends up seeing colors or activating other senses when she plays music or sings, which is why it drives her passion even more.

Isadora hates loud noises when she's in the music room. She prioritizes music and harmony when she's playing or composing music; that's why the music room is her refuge, and it's never unusual to find her spending part of the night in the music room playing the piano.

Piano is her favorite instrument – just like her own voice – she loves to sing and play the piano, so it ends up always being a natural constant to see her singing or playing the piano.

Isadora loves to take care of everything and everyone and sometimes takes on too many responsibilities unnecessarily; she is intense and therefore needs a partner who will often take control for a few moments and help her relax or help her reject responsibilities so that they don't weigh too heavily on her mental health.

Isadora greatly appreciates caring, and if she were being cared for, she would probably be completely unresponsive and embarrassed, surprised, as it was new to have someone care so much about her that they would care for her. This role reversal takes her completely by surprise, and it takes her a while to get used to it.

(Isadora Capri × F!reader)

(Part 2)

(NSFW)

(English is not my first language) (Part 2) (Werewolf!reader) (Student!reader) (first heat) (Not recommended for those under 18!)

Early that afternoon everything started well, Y/N remembered: She had entered the room shortly after speaking to Enid.

In her room, she began to clean up the mess she usually left for after school: some clothes on the bed, a pair of sneakers in a place they shouldn't be, making the bed, sweeping the room, checking the dirty clothes basket to send to the school laundry. She even cleaned the windows and busied herself with the cobwebs outside!

Being roommates with Enid and Wenesday—who was currently in the hospital, unfortunately...but Wenesday must have been loving the concept of near-death, perhaps—wasn't necessarily a good thing. Enid was a very clean person on her half of the dorm, that was a fact; but Wenesday wasn't exactly a very sensible person and left cobwebs on her balcony and part of the bedroom ceiling—those that Enid made a point of keeping. She would never touch Wenesday's things without her friend present, not even under oath of death.

It was kind of funny how Y/N cared so much about cleaning to hide the fact that, slowly and for some reason, her body was getting worse in... symptoms.

First came the apparent fever: Her body began to sweat profusely, she had to take a long cold shower twice.

Second came the tremors: muscle spasms in her lower back, the inside of her thighs, a tremor in her cervix, her back spasming and making her arch up out of nowhere as she lay down in bed.

Third came the racing heart: her heart suddenly raced in the middle of that afternoon, shortly after she had finished half of her chores.

From the fourth onwards, things went downhill a lot: She could barely stand the third cold shower she had to take. She had to fill the tub to the brim, and when she got in, it was the same as a hot bath. Her mouth tasted so strangely sweet on her tongue, an aching pulse between her legs that seemed to be calling out to her, her breasts fully erect, and her heart racing along with an overwhelming sense of frustration and need.

She never needed someone as much as she did now. Y/N needed Isadora Capri now.

And that's how she ended up in this situation: sprawled on the bed, naked, one hand between her legs, rubbing herself against her palm, trying to ride her own palm for more friction. Trying for more intense friction as her hips moved back and forth, nearly crushing her own palm with her clearly noisy attempts to release herself. The room was filled with needy, frustrated moans, loudly calling out Isadora's name.

Y/N couldn't hear it, but there was a line of werewolves – from her pack – at the door to her room, trying to scratch the door and open it, but they were scared away with a growl.

The growl.

Y/N knew that growl, but it was huskier, stronger, more territorial than she could have ever heard before this whole mess.

It was Miss. Capri, Y/N was sure.

"Oh, shit!" That's what she thought as she forced herself to roll out of bed, grab her loose blouse—which was lying on the floor—and put it on, running to the door and opening it. Was it as quick as she expected? No, it wasn't. Her legs were trembling, wet as jelly. Y/N hoped Miss Capri hadn't heard those moans, that she hadn't heard anything and only knew what Enid had said: That Y/N was sick, needed Miss Capri's advice, and urgently.

But the sight Y/N was met with wasn't what she expected, not at first. When she opened the door, she was met with Isadora Capri, her hair a little disheveled, her face flushed, and her breathing labored. She was staring at the door as if she were about to pounce on prey but was holding back with all her might. Her hands—oh, those hands—were clenched into fists, Isadora's arms were crossed, and she shook her head slightly before taking a deep breath and clearing her throat in a small, hoarse noise, trying to regain her composure.

— Y/N, Enid Sinclair called me. She said you needed me. — Capri began by making a small gesture with her fingers in the air, then she moved one of her shoulders slightly and took a deep breath through her mouth, her eyes going down the werewolf's body and, for seconds,Y/N thought she was going to be devoured right there

— Mrs.Capri..— Y/N's voice came out in a thinner whisper than she initially intended.

Isadora's jaw tightened, her eyes rising to Y/N's. The teacher stared at the girl for a few moments, then forced herself to take another deep breath, as if the air were a more pleasant poison to inhale than anything else she was feeling. — Can I come in?

— Always. — Y/N made way for her by moving her body to the side, freeing Isadora to pass by her, removing her overcoat from her shoulders and folding it over her other arm, then folding it again she rested the coat on the bed, half crumpled and messy.

— You..— Isadora stopped mid-sentence, her eyes fixed on the bed for a moment and then she suddenly inhaled more deeply — Sit on the bed. Do you have a thermometer?

— Thermometer? Body? — Y/N closed the door and locked it, taking just a few steps to pass Isadora and, with effort and a quick swallow, sat up in bed and pretended to be natural.

— Yes, body thermometer. — The teacher confirmed, but when she was about to continue, she stopped and fixed her eyes on Y/N's thighs for a moment — You..Y/n, you..ahm..— Isadora looked away and cleared her throat — Okay, forget the thermometer. I can smell it. I felt that smell from downstairs.

— Smell? — Y/N sat up straighter in bed, pulling the hem of her shirt down to cover her thighs — what kind of..?

— You're in heat, Y/N.— Isadora ran her hand through her red curls and, for a moment, seemed to be considering an idea that seemed very deliciously pleasurable to her, but she was in internal conflict so she quickly turned away from it. — The first, judging by the confusion, lack of preparation and... intensity.

Heat.

Heat.

"I'm in heat." Y/N thought that first, but then came the further observation "it seems I'm not the only one."

— You must have felt a... huge need for the touch and presence of... someone. — Isadora began, trying to maintain her counselor's composure as her hands began to gesticulate and she clung to any point in the room except the sight of Y/N on the bed. — It's totally normal to feel so desperate, it's natural to feel very... hot and... — Isadora cleared her throat. — Needy.

— Very hot..— Y/N shifted a little in bed, inhaling Isadora's perfume.— Are you okay, Mrs. Capri? You seems..agitated.

— Did I? — Isadora looked at Y/N quickly and that was her undoing: the sight. Seeing Y/N practically melted on the bed, with her hips wet, her thighs bent and open, her eyes half-closed staring at Isadora fixedly and that sly tone of voice with her body arched back just waiting for her... Fucking delicious sight.

She growled in a hoarse sound and bit her lower lip trying to hold herself back once again but this time it didn't work.

Isadora practically grabbed Y/N's thighs when in a quick movement she inserted herself between her legs, pushing her knees further apart and fitting Isadora into that space. The werewolf's hands ran along the sides of Y/N's hips, the latter seeming too drunk on her own hormones – and Isadora's scent – too much to react without making soft, low moans, her hands gripping the teacher's shoulders as she dug her nails into the sides of her thighs and pulled her in a rough drag to the edge of the bed, supporting Y/N's hips with Isadora's groin.

In a quicker motion, Isadora flipped Y/N onto her stomach and grabbed her hips, lifting them upwards. The hem of her shirt quickly slid down to reveal her lack of panties, making the older werewolf purr at the sight.

Isadora's right hand went from the hip to the younger wolf's lower back, massaging her lower back with her palm and slowly bringing her hand to the flesh of her right buttock, grabbing the flesh and scratching it with her newly released claws.

Y/N only reacted with heavy sighs, her mind clouded, her eyes fixed on nothingness, her eyelids slowly closing. It was an internal implosion of pleasure. Her toes curled in a slow opening and closing, and when she felt Isadora's nails dig into her flesh, the werewolf couldn't contain the shrill moan that escaped her as her body jerked forward slightly, burying her face in the pillow while half of her body arched upward.

— It seems someone understood the instinctual positions better than I expected..— Isadora's voice dropped an octave. Slowly letting her claws retract, Isadora's fingers descended further into Y/N's wet folds and, with two fingers, began to slowly tease the werewolf's entrance with her fingertips.

Isadora let out a light nasal giggle as she heard a series of sly grunts from Y/N. — Shit, if I knew it would be like this...— Isadora murmured as her free arm wrapped around the kitten's waist and her two fingers intertwined, and with them positioned, Isadora penetrated Y/N without warning. Y/N arched her body, and the louder moan that came was surprising even to her. Isadora just bit her lip and bent over, her torso fitting into the curve of Y/N's back and her chest placing itself on the student's back.

With her face buried in the side of Y/N's neck, Isadora began to move her wrists in a strong, rough thrust, moving her hips in unison to slam against Y/N's, creating friction with her body against the other girl's. It was a dirty position, and Isadora knew it; she knew she was going too far, but now it was too late to resist.

Her hips sped up their movements as the thought came to Isadora's mind: to bite and mark Y/N.

Capri had never been the out-of-control or rough type, but damn, she could never control herself with something so intense and good. That smell, that body, her fingers being squeezed by flesh that was both moist and wet, warm and receptive, welcoming, tight, suffocating, so deliciously tight and soft that it made Isadora slowly lose more and more of her self-control, and before she knew it, she was already moaning between grunts that sounded angry but were just excitement bordering on intense rage of...shit, this was too good.

Isadora's fangs were already out, her moans already mixing with Y/N's, who was currently biting the pillow, her face pressed against the mattress. Y/N's body was so wet, so surrendered, it felt like she had melted into a hole that only served for Isadora to fill. Fuck, Isadora didn't even notice when she pulled away from Y/N body, just to grab Y/N's hair and wrap it around her fist. Isadora's hips pushed and held Y/N's raised in the air. Isadora slowly pulled Y/N's hair and made her arch back as Isadora inserted a third finger and went deeper, curling her fingers and starting to thrust into that spongy, soft spot she'd found during that little play. The sequence of moans that came from both of them from then on was too pornographic, so much so that Isadora ended up pressing herself against Y/N's body again—the one still arched over—and ended up biting her neck harder, and this time, for real.

Hours passed between the two of them in that room and one of the main consequences was that the headboard broke and another was that they both ended up with so many marks that no makeup could hide those marks better than a blouse with a very thick and high collar.

(Isadora Capri x reader)

(English is not my first language) (Werewolf!reader) (first heat) (Student!reader) (part 1)

It was a quiet morning in Nevermore, but ever since Wenesday had been rushed out of Willon Hill and admitted to the hospital, everything had been a bit... weird, more than usual.

Vampires were more wary of werewolves, some Gorgons were petrifying crows and other small animals – nothing that would hurt them, of course – but they released them into closed rooms and when they returned to their normal form they ended up scaring the poor thing that was inside. The mermaids? They were even more... them. Y/N was more lost than usual. Normally, at this time, she would be in Miss. Capri's music class, she was part of the school orchestra, transverse flute. She would be practicing, playing, and being corrected, listened to by the beautiful music teacher—obviously Y/n wouldn't complain about being corrected by her—but to her dismay, the teacher had temporarily suspended classes for personal reasons. Y/N didn't blame her, Miss. Capri was in Willon Hill when that Frankenstein zombie escaped, and the Hyde.

"Poor Miss. Capri..." was one of Y/N's thoughts, the other competing with it was "Poor me without her." It was, indeed, cruel of her to think such a thing; maybe Miss Capri must be traumatized, perhaps even too scared to come to school. Y/N hadn't been thinking straight since last night when a strange heat began to build in her body, in her belly, in her heart racing in the dead of night, and a throbbing pressure between her legs. May all the gods forgive her, but she was agitated, her mind racing, and full of confused, racing thoughts. She felt needier than she had in her entire life.

Y/N was focusing her eyes on the phone screen, which had already turned off due to the lack of action, the lack of movement and the lack of concentration of her mind on always returning to Miss Capri.

Capri.

Capri..

Miss. Capri..

Isadora Capri.

That name had been echoing in Y/N's mind since she opened her eyes, and until that moment, all her thoughts had been on – Isadora Capri. – Miss Capri.

It was like a curse. What the hell was happening to her? Y/N was sure she was going crazy. She missed Miss Capri's scent, her voice, the sight of her fingers moving in the air as if drawing musical notes. Y/N was crazy, truly crazy. That pressure in her belly, that throbbing between her legs, that damn thing was already hurting, it was so painful, her senses seemed to go from hypersensitive to hyper-depressed in the blink of an eye. She needed to talk to Miss Capri seriously about what was going on or she would go crazy.

— Y/N, are you okay? — Enid’s voice pulled Y/N out of her thoughts, making her turn to the werewolf beside her. — You’ve been staring at your phone screen for about fifteen minutes, and you’re standing still like a statue, and you’re hyperventilating. — Enid pursed her lips and tilted her head. — And… — she cleared her throat and murmured. — You smell good..but not like perfume..I mean, like, too good, you know? This is..weird. Have you thought about going home? You don’t look well.

Okay, now Y/N was really worried. Why? Enid was worse than anyone else there. Since Wenesday had been admitted, there hadn't been anyone more shaken, tearful, and on edge than Enid; and if she was saying Y/N looked bad...then Y/N must have been a pitiful mess to be around.

— I.. I'm just a little tired, Enid.. — Y/N murmured and her eyes turned to the screen of the switched off phone, she put it away.

— A little? You were mumbling Mrs. Capri's name when I got close...it was pretty weird. Do you...want me to call her? It sounds like you need some advice...and maybe a doctor...or two.

— You're funny, huh. Ha-ha-ha, I was sick laughing — Y/N rolled her eyes, straightening her body and turning back to the patio — I just...woke up feeling weird.

— Did you just wake up feeling weird? You're completely weird... and look, that's me saying it... me. — Enid looked down at herself — Those pants definitely don't go with that blouse. Damn, what was I thinking? Oh yeah... Wenesday — Enid's expression fell briefly before she shook her head and cleared her throat — Okay! Look, I'll call Mrs. Capri and you and she can talk and she'll... fix whatever's wrong with you, but until then... please don't get out of bed... or go near another werewolf. That smell of yours is strangely attractive, like... ants with candy.

Y/N frowned at Enid's final words, nodding slightly before waving away absently. She wanted to be fully focused on Enid's words, but she wasn't. She stopped listening 100% when she heard the words "Mrs. Capri," "call her," "take care of you" in a single sentence.

Something in Y/N's body worsened when she heard that name spoken aloud. Something stirred in a tingling, a louder pulse, a surge of adrenaline.

Enid made a gagging sound and held her nose, letting out a "shit!" in a jumping voice and turning away.

— What? What happened?! — Y/N moved further away from Enid as if she had been the one to receive the shock that Enid had apparently just received.

— You, out of nowhere, started smelling five times stronger! — Enid exclaimed in a somewhat desperate tone as she waved her hands in the midst of the sudden nervousness that she definitely didn't want to explain why it arose.

Enid practically ran out and, in a half-shouting voice, exclaimed from a distance during the rush, "I'm going to call her! Go to your room!"

Y/N stood still, her eyes watching her friend walk away. This was getting a little complicated and she was even more confused. What was going on? But she obeyed. She turned around, took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, and left for her room in the dorms.

_____

(english is not my first language)

You could have said at first that it was an accident, that it was a small, miserable accident to be in her music room, but it wasn't. In fact, you were there for exactly that reason – because something, in that immense darkness, was playing the most beautiful music you had ever heard in your entire existence and you were old as hell.

You couldn't lie – how could you? It was hypnosis in musical form, giving you a sensory explosion that made your ears perk up, hyperstimulated. – You saw, with your scarlet eyes, staring into the air, sniffing that woody perfume that insisted on being in the air of that damned music room.

Heaven couldn't possibly be this; you were certain you weren't in heaven—with obvious caveats, you had a heavenly melody drawing you closer to a red-haired figure with nimble fingers, making your breath, the one you technically didn't need, catch and hold. You didn't even notice you were holding your breath as your steps continued toward the heart of the room, that damned piano.

For the hell of it, okay, now you were convinced that God existed and that he, for some reason you couldn't explain, chose you, the guide of the Nevermore vampires, to stand before him. Was God a woman? You didn't know, you weren't sure, and you couldn't even remember the last time you'd had such a serious and overwhelming doubt as you did now.

No one had told you, in all your millennia, that vampires could be stopped by angels – and what a beautiful angel.

The music stopped—you only realized you'd interrupted the room's harmony when your abdomen hit a stand where a violin was on display. It fell, causing your angel to turn around in shock, eyes wide with sudden fear. Your hands rose, and you, surrendered to the angel with red curls, released the breath you'd been holding until then.

— I'm sorry — you murmured in a broken, weak, tiny voice, feeling pathetic with that tone of pure charm. — I didn't mean to interrupt you, miss. — Your eyes went to the violin on the floor and soon, with your cheeks shining with a blush you didn't even know vampires were capable of, you picked up the violin and placed it back on the stand.

Your throat made a strange sound, and you tried to clear your throat to compose yourself. It was strange, indeed, the small detail that only now had you realized your fangs had come out. You usually kept them retracted, but they had come out of nowhere now.

— Oh, no, is everything okay, miss..? — Your angel's voice made your vampire eyes turn to her and then, finally, you saw her face and, to say the least, you almost fell to your knees at that sight.

— Y/N..

Your angel – No, Goddess of Music – nodded slowly and her fingers danced in the air as she made a sign as if to introduce herself.

— Miss Capri, Werewolf Counselor and Music Teacher.

Werewolf.

You almost fell to your knees for a werewolf. Oh, what a pathetic thing...that you didn't regret doing.

So this is love?

A pathetic thing?

— You're staring — Isadora said suddenly, snapping you out of yours reverie, which was pathetic to say the least, more pathetic than love letters.

— I am? — You paused, then quickly nodded in sudden embarrassment that rose in the pit of your stomach. — I am! I mean...— Your eyes shifted to the other side and you shook your head. — Your music is--gods, your music is beautiful. You are beautiful--the music!

This drew a laugh and a confused grimace from Isadora, now whether this was good or bad you no longer understood — I think you're the first shy vampire I've ever met... that's cute..and weird, but cute.

— Oh, great, two in the morning and I'm being called weird by a werewolf. My life couldn't be better. — you muttered, rolling your eyes to yourself, and then turned to Isadora.

— Oh, don't say that. I was going with the flow of the music, letting it control me... it was my fault for not noticing such a cute vampire watching me — Isadora gave a sideways smile that made you feel like you were going to faint at any moment. — Is everything okay? You are red

— Ahm..ahnram. — You nodded quickly and laughed, a strange, choked laugh — well, uhm..I..I'm going..do you teach..classes in the morning?

Isadora slowly frowned, her eyebrows knitting together and then arching, and her fingers twitched slightly before one hand continued to interlock the fingers of the other hand.

— My classes start at eight in the morning and end at four in the afternoon.

— Are you free for dinner in the... forest? It's a full moon... I can help you hunt something and we can go for a walk — You put your hands behind your body in a small nervous gesture, mirroring her habit of moving her hands

— I..— Isadora pursed her lips slightly then curved her lips into a slight smile and nodded — Yeah, It seems like a cool thing to me. — She paused and then her face became confused as if she had just cleared a doubt from her mind that she had only just realized she had — I'm sorry but you teach..?

— Literature. Only for vampires. — You quickly say, a little nervously, more because of her presence than insecurity. — Vampires don't have much interest in other subjects, and literature is always good for remembering old times... moments from our human lives, you know? Most come from a time when romanticism, realism, and other literary genres were created... it's like coming home.

— You let words control you then. — Isadora muttered the observation aloud, leaving you confused for a moment. Her hands now did their own dance in the air, gesturing, as if they were drawing the thoughts on their own, and with each word a new gesture, a new movement of the fingers, was renewed. — I'm like that with music. You are with words, literature, and pages. You let this..beautiful chaos out; you let the words, the story and the moments completely overwhelm you and let them come out in something pure and beautiful..but for some reason, you're here looking at me with those big eyes and panting like a cat caught in the rain.