SHARKBOY305

Gerard's chest ached as he heard the distant music play, echoing out into the cool night air and into the starry abyss of the sky. He was stationed on duty at the front gates of the castle tonight, thoughts of his lover dancing with another plaguing his mind as he patrolled.

Little did he know, you had been organising a way to get away for a while, slipping your servants some extra coin to create a diversion.

You snuck through the corridors of the castle, barely avoiding the other guards as you slipped around to the front of the castle, using your navy suit to your advantage, hiding out in some shrubbery as the other guard on duty passed you by.

“Psst. Sir Gerard.” Your voice was quiet, and you hoped to everything above that he could hear you.

Thankfully, his helmet turned your way, and he slowly took it off, pulling the chainmail coif down around his neck, unsure if he heard anything.

“Sir Gerard!” You whispered a little louder, and you smiled in delight as his eyes focused on you

“Your highness…” Butterflies of excitement filled your stomach as you stepped out, Gerard rushing over to you, abandoning his helmet on the ground. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m here to see you.” The bush rustled as you stepped out into the moonlight, Gerard’s hands immediately finding your waist, his expression one of surprise.

You took no time in pressing your lips to his, running your fingers through his short, black hair. He kissed you back fiercely, pulling you closer and smiling against your mouth.

After a moment, you pulled away, pressing your forehead to his, chuckling.

“I couldn’t stand not seeing you tonight…” Voice low and whispery, a truth you weren’t afraid to speak aloud.

“How- How did you manage to get away?” Gerard asked, still in disbelief as he drew back to stare at your face.

He did that a lot.

“I may or may not have made a deal with the servants.” You said slyly. “I owe them for this.”

His smile stretched wider as he laughed, shaking his head, drawing you back in for another tender kiss, his soft lips melting into yours for what felt like forever.

Distant gravel crunching underneath boots dragged both of your attentions away from each other. Gerard quickly pulled you over to the castle walls, hiding you behind a pillar, then returned to his post, slipping his coif back over his head, grabbing his helmet from the ground, and pulling it down over his face.

“Way,” Commander Griswell spoke sternly. “The prince is missing from the ballroom. You are to report back to me if you catch sight of him. Up to his usual antics, I assume.”

Shit.

“Of course, Sir.” You barely peeked around the corner to see the commander storming off around the other side of the castle, and you had to clutch your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing too loud.

Gerard looked back at you, slipping his helmet and coif off again and clutching his chest in relief. You walked over to him with a stupidly cheerful grin on your face while he shook his head.

“You need to go back.”

“But I just got here.” You complained, draping your arms over his shoulders, swaying slightly. “And I don’t want to dance with anyone else…”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” He hummed, his hands holding your waist by default.

“One dance, Gerard. Just one.” He knew better than to argue with you, especially not when you were frowning. “Please?”

A beat of contemplation passed by.

“Fine, one dance, then you have to go.” He relented, swaying with you as he pulled you closer.

You looked deep into his hazel eyes, a satisfied look surely plastered on your face. Gerard blushed in the faint luminescence, never being able to stare into your eyes for too long without getting shy.

The two of you held each other under the moon, the music playing softly in the background.

“What do I do with you, sweet prince?” Gerard sighed into your shoulder rhetorically, his armour clinking as he moved.

“That is the question, huh.” You teased, relaxing further into his hold.

All the sneaking around you two had been doing took a toll on both of you. Hiding away in corners, sneaking off in the middle of the night, catching glances of each other as you moved around the castle.

There was nothing more that you yearned for than his heart, and he the same.

To make it known that the prince and a knight were engaging in such relations, though, would call for confinement for you, and most likely the loss of Gerard’s position.

But for now, as the cold night air spun you around in each other's arms, you both savoured what you could, for you knew the opportunity would arise soon again.

The song ended, and you drew back, a mournful feeling crushing your chest as his soft face contorted into one of upset.

Only, he'd been out of sight for much too long.

With thin and pale fingers, he lifted up his shirt to reveal his thin frame. The truth was, he couldn't afford to hide away anymore. The lack of blood was taking a toll on his health and appearance.

His hazel eyes were sunken and his cheekbones and jaw jutted out unnaturally, his movements labored and forced. Using the last of his strength, one night he goes into town. Usually, there were a few passersby under the yellow street lights, wandering aimlessly or off to alleyways for something to shoot up their arm.

This night, there was no one but him.

Gerard saw the man, warming himself up on a street corner; he was fighting the cold November night. He seemed antsy, looking for someone to pick him up maybe. Gerard's footsteps clicked on the concrete beneath them, drawing so close to the man that he couldn't help but turn his head.

He couldn't exactly make out the strange figure's face under the lamplight. When it was finally illuminated in full, he knew exactly what kind of creature he was facing.

A breath to let out a scream or a cry for help, but it was in vain. A cold, clammy hand was clapped over the man's face, forcing him into silence.

.........

The man wakes up in a cold sweat. The dank stone basement had a musk to it that always seemed to linger in his nose. Or maybe it was his own body. He couldn't tell anymore.

Days blurred together. It was easy to lose track of time when you can't see the sun. He couldn't even remember what he was doing before he was taken. And honestly? He didn't seem to care anymore.

Gerard fed him well. Well enough to maintain his weight and keep the blood flowing just for the vampire. He wouldn't do that if he didn't care, right? The throbbing wounds on his neck and shoulders always dulled at the sight of Gerard.

The basement door creaked open, and his heart rate soared. Gerard's silhouette was at the top of the stairs smiling down at him.

"...Hey there, pretty boy." He cooed mockingly to him. He didn't seem to notice the sarcasm.

"Hi," He swallows, almost choking on his words as he stared up at him. Gerard was visibly healthier now that he had a consistent food source (him), color in his cheeks and a slight pudginess. He watched as the vampire descends the old stairs, smirking softly.

"Come here," Gerard teases, looking down at him with false sympathy. "Those marks are so pretty on you."

His heart pounds so hard, he's not sure that Gerard can't hear it.

It was his feeding time now. So, he stands up and trudges in front of him, unable to maintain eye contact. His eyes flick over to the side as he presents himself to Gerard.

"Very good," Gerard chuckles, observing his pitiful face for a moment before grabbing his shoulders (very gently, he notices), leaning in to smell his hot blood through his skin.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you like this," Gerard places a teasing lick over the most recent wound. He doesn't reply. He can't, anyway, as Gerard sinks his teeth into his soft skin with no warning.

He can't help but let out a soft cry at the piercing of his skin. He can feel his fangs sink in deeper with every sip of blood he takes. The loss of blood makes him dizzy and sway within Gerard's grasp.

Instead of gently letting him fall to the ground like he would any other time, his hand lays firm against the lower most part of the man's back, the other traveling to the back of his neck. To the lightheaded and woozy version of the man, it seemed like a much needed tender embrace.

Suddenly, his stomach drops and his head starts to swirl. His vision twists into fuzzy black and white. He's going to pass out soon.

Gerard notices him beginning to fall limp. The vampire is well fed now: a flushed color in his cheeks and blood dribbling down his chin. As he backs away, he looks down at his pale, yet handsome face.

The man's eyes crack open to see his satisfied smirk. His brain isn't functioning right from the mixture of pain and blood loss... But enough strength remains in him to reach up, ever so slowly, and tug Gerard closer back to the holes in his neck.

"More? I guess you do like this, don't you?" Gerard whispers before plunging his teeth back into his skin, a small groan escaping both of them

Okay, but imagine. Both Frank and Matt knowing you always get a little flustered seeing them in their ‘nightlife’ outfits. One or both makes a comment about the punisher or daredevil swooping you off your feet, just to see you think about it, a little too much. 

They keep an eye on you, especially on nights where one or both are feeling stressed, more on edge than usual. On these nights you won’t be surprised to find yourself pinned against a wall by The Punisher, or finding Daredevil standing in a dark corner. 

You can just feel them watching you sometimes. In the beginning it was strange and off-putting, but communication has made it almost flirting, or even foreplay. 

I feel like it's kind of a known fact that Matt can be a flirt if he wants to, especially as daredevil. It makes him feel more confident, in a way, so he will do the chin tilt on multiple occasions. 

Frank has pinned you against walls on multiple occasions, as the punisher and not, but you’ll always pull the “is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?”. It's a 50/50 chance what reaction you’ll get. 

Sometimes he just huffs at you with a barely there smirk, and other times he flips you around and bends you over. 

Matt seems more the type to melt out of the shadows to touch and grab, to tease you until your legs shake, and just... melt away again until you’ve calmed down, so he can do it again. 

They both have a tendency to get a little extra rough when they’re not Matt and Frank, but daredevil and the punisher. It’s a different mentality, even if they won’t admit it. 

Matt can be meaner, his voice rougher, and his grip tighter. He will normally use your own body's reaction against you in a teasing way, like commenting on how fast your heart is racing. But as daredevil he goes in detail. Like commenting about how your muscles are tightening, or how he can smell your tears building. 

Frank just gets rougher in all ways when he's still in punisher mode. You’ll find yourself grabbed, twisted, and bent in ways he normally doesn’t. It's not unusual to be covered in hickeys and his handprints.  

Frank may even add a gun or knife to the bedroom, if you guys have agreed to it. It always makes Matt extra alert and antsy, smelling blood, but if it's the right time and setting, it’ll make him lose his mind if the cards are played right. 

It's not always rough and wild though. They both have times where they just need to feel their lovers are alive and present. 

There might be times where Matt feels extra vulnerable, so he hides behind the daredevil helmet so he clings to you and Frank, his mouth hanging open and panting, silent tears running down his face as he just wants to feel it, to be loved and seen as worth loving. 

Frank is similar, except he has no helmet to hide behind. But when you’ve known him long enough, you can tell by the furrow of his brow and the clench of his jaw. You'll see it the moment he steps in the room, and Matt can hear it from the tension in his muscles. 

During those times, Frank may just need to cling to you two, in complete silence. You and Matt know to start talking to him, about how much you love him and how important he is, when Franks shoulders loosen up. 

You being a completely normal guy is all the appeal, but I think Frank and Matt might find it a little attractive if you played the hero, or criminal, every now and then. 

You guys all know there's no way you’d actually outsmart them or overpower them, so it’s all pretending, but it’s hot anyways. 

So, sometimes you’ll put on the ‘criminal’ fit you’ve made, and you’ll go commit a ‘crime’. It's nothing real, but it makes them both all hot and bothered, especially if the outfit you wear shows off just the right assets. 

Or you’ll put some fantasy where you’ve ‘kidnapped’ daredevil and the punisher, and you’re trying to get information from them in your ‘villainous’ ways. 

Those fantasies go one of two ways. Either you as the villain ‘win’ and they stay tied up and you get to tease and ride them as you please. 

Or the two ‘work together’ to break free and ‘take care’ of the villain that captured them. During those moments it's all punisher and daredevil, there's no Matt and Frank, unless you safeword, of course. 

Klaus Mikaelson

Klaus's ego takes a severe beating. The first few times Y/N takes charge, Klaus is a snarling mess of defiance. He'll test boundaries, push back, and attempt to wrest control back with brute force and manipulative words. He’s not used to not getting exactly what he wants, when he wants it.

The biting remarks sharpen. Klaus’s wit becomes a weapon, aimed to dissect Y/N’s decisions, his character, anything to assert his superiority. It’s a defence mechanism, a veiled attempt to regain the upper hand by making Y/N question himself.

He secretly thrives on the chase. Beneath the bluster, Klaus finds a twisted form of pleasure in Y/N’s dominance. The power plays become a game, a high-stakes match where the reward is… well, Klaus is still figuring that out. He loves the chase, the challenge of trying to outwit someone stronger-willed than himself.

The possessiveness dials up to eleven. Klaus has always been possessive, but Y/N’s dominance ignites a protectiveness that borders on obsessive. Anyone who even looks at Y/N the wrong way risks triggering a rage that hasn't been seen in centuries.

He craves Y/N’s approval. Despite fighting it tooth and nail, Klaus becomes desperate for Y/N’s acknowledgement. A simple nod of approval, a fleeting compliment, sends a thrill through him that he desperately tries to hide. He likes being rewarded.

The vulnerability slips through the cracks. In moments of intimacy, the carefully constructed walls crumble. He'll cling to Y/N with a desperation that belies his immortal façade, revealing the scared, lonely boy he tries so hard to bury. He will never admit to this.

The first few times Y/N tries to give Klaus a command, or exert dominance in the bedroom, Klaus would push back. He'd smirk, raise an eyebrow, and deliberately do the opposite, all while gauging Y/N's reaction

Klaus’s ego is as fragile as it is massive. Y/N using praise to manipulate Klaus would work wonders. A well-placed compliment about his intelligence after a particularly difficult negotiation, or a whispered appreciation for his artistic talent during a shared moment alone, would soften him. It’s not that Klaus needs validation, but he likes his strengths to be recognized, admired.

In the bedroom, Klaus discovers a paradoxical enjoyment in Y/N's dominance. The controlled roughness, the explicit commands, the feeling of someone else dictating his pleasure—it's a new sensation that both unnerves and excites him. He'd never admit it openly, but he craves the intensity.

Elijah Mikaelson

Elijah is initially wary. Control is his shield, his carefully constructed world. dominant Y/N intrigues him, but also triggers a deep-seated instinct to protect himself. He tests the boundaries. Respect is paramount; any hint of cruelty is an immediate deal-breaker.

Conversation becomes a delicate dance. Elijah finds himself drawn to Y/N’s assertiveness, yet subtly guiding the narrative. The push and pull of intellectual sparring becomes foreplay in itself. He appreciates a mind as sharp as his own, even if that mind seeks to command him.

The bedroom is where Elijah truly begins to unravel. He discovers a surprising release in relinquishing control, in submitting to Y/N's assured touch and guidance. The weight of centuries, the burden of family, momentarily lifts as he allows himself to be led.

Elijah's submission is never absolute. He still retains a quiet power, a subtle influence that Y/N acknowledges and often finds alluring.

He has safe words, carefully chosen to reflect his personality. It’s a reminder that he's still in control of the situation.

Aftercare is essential. Elijah needs reassurance, a return to the equilibrium of their relationship. Pillow talk is a chance to reconnect

Elijah enjoys being praised, especially when it acknowledges his intelligence and restraint. Y/N's words of approval validate his decision to submit, confirming that it wasn't a weakness but a conscious choice.

He struggles with the idea that some might see his submission as unbecoming of an Original. This internal conflict leads to moments of withdrawal, periods where he reasserts his control in other areas of his life to compensate.

Elijah secretly craves the moments when Y/N calls him "good boy". It’s a chink in his armour, a vulnerability he allows only Y/N to see.

Kol mikaelson

Kol adores the chase but finds a different kind of thrill in a partner who isn't shy about taking the reins. He's used to everyone being a little afraid of him, so Y/N's confidence is a potent aphrodisiac.

He feigns annoyance when Y/N issues a command, rolling his eyes and muttering about micromanagement, but the smirk playing on his lips betrays his true feelings. He loves to be told what to do.

During sex, Kol is a whirlwind of teeth, sharp words, and impulsive movements. But with Y/N in charge, he yields, whimpering in pleasure as he's restrained, dominated, and brought to the edge.

Surrender doesn't come naturally. He'll test Y/N, pushing boundaries to see how far he can go before his lover asserts his dominance. It's a game, and Kol is fascinated by the rules.

He thrives on praise and validation. When Y/N acknowledges his compliance, Kol practically glows. The feeling of being both desired and controlled is intoxicating.

Aftercare is vital. Kol needs to be reminded that his submissive behaviour is a choice, that he's still powerful and valued. Cuddles, reassurance, and maybe a little light biting are all essential.

He's a brat. He'll deliberately disobey small orders just to provoke a reaction from Y/N. He loves seeing the fire in his eyes and then being promptly brought back in line.

Kol secretly enjoys being called "good boy," even though he'd never admit it. It's degrading in the best possible way, especially when Y/N says it with a possessiveness.

He gets off on Y/N's jealousy. Kol will flirt shamelessly with others, knowing it drives his boyfriend wild. Then he delights in being punished for his transgression.

In public, Kol is his usual flamboyant self. Only behind closed doors does he fully relinquish control, transforming into the eager submissive he keeps hidden from the world.