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neighbourshouse · 7 months

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Quality Time (WWDITS)

Nadja x Female Reader

Summary: Nadja wants to know more about you. (Fluff)

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, insecurity.

Authors note: Hi Hi Hi this is my first ever fanfiction.

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5:30 PM; The vampires wouldn’t be up for a while as the sun was still out and not to set for another hour.

Guillermo gets up around the same time you do, not interacting with each other as you both find solace in the quiet you two only seem to get in the daytime. Usually, you are awake around 12:30, getting ready as you wish and cleaning the house up before the vampires rise for the night. However, today you let yourself sleep in a bit later. Last night ran too long and the house was tidy(ish).

You kept your room dark- if there was one thing you did have in common with the vampires, you enjoyed the night. The room lit with warm-toned lamps, you stood in front of your mirror in a t-shirt, underwear, and socks, looking at yourself.

You have never really liked your body, a constant insecurity mainly while living with individuals who were quite attractive. You were especially bugged by your appearance today, looking at the shape of your hips and the curves of your legs. The t-shirt you wore was purposely large enough to hide your torso and release emphasis on your breasts.

You watched yourself for a few minutes, eventually turning to put on jeans and a hoodie.

“Why do you look at yourself like that? Also, why is there fabric up your ass??” Nadja was sitting on your bed, watching you. She squinted her eyes as her gaze roamed all over your body.

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN SITTING THERE?” you yelled, rushing over to the end of your bed where your pants lay. You quickly pulled them on, frantically zipping them up. At least now you were fully dressed.

“are you going to answer my questions?” She stated.

“NO, I’m not gonna answer actually. why are you up?? you should still be asleep!”

“I awoke early and was bored. What do you expect me to do? Clean the house?” She smirked as if the cameras were there.

“You could have at least knocked”

“ok well, I didn’t and I’m here now.”

There was a pause. You looked at her, brows slightly furrowed. For once you could see slight concern glint across her eyes. It made your gaze soften. You shouldn’t be rude, she is your Mistress after all.

You threw on your hoodie and sat next to her on the bed.

“Sooo…what’s up?” You asked, a little more care in your voice.

As Nadja and Laszlo’s familiar, they only ever really ordered you around. However, both were oddly protective over you for some unknown reason, especially Nadja. She even was the one who insisted you have a proper bedroom; Unlike Guillermo who unfortunately got the space under the stairs.

Nadja and you were the only women in the house. It was hard for you, so you could only imagine how polarizing and alone it must be for her. You know, being a vampire and all on top.

I mean, to tell the truth, you really liked Nadja, like, really liked her- but you could never say anything. You found her beautiful and her oddness was something you could connect with. At the least, you wanted to be her friend but she always seemed to stray away from you or demand things in front of the others. So this interaction was a first.

“I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to talk to you?… I feel a little bad, you’ve been with us for a while now and- I’ve not even bothered to get to know you.” Her eyes shifted downwards into her lap. You squinted and began to inspect her from afar. What the fuck is going on?

“Are you ok? Should I wake the others and get help?”

“No no, I’m fine, like I said I just….”

She looked at you. Was that a bit of sadness?

“Nadja, do you want someone to talk to?” You smiled slightly, trying to get her to look at you.

Her head lifted and she began to smile back- this still seemed too genuine for Nadja.

“I think I do. I also didn’t realise- how sort of interesting you are? I’ve never been in here.” She flicked her eyes around the room, taking in the posters on your walls and the knick-knacks and books on your shelves.

“Thank you…” you trailed off not really knowing what to say next.

Her eyes met yours again.

“y/n, I really do want to know more about you.” You blushed at her words.

“well…what exactly do you want to know?” You said slowly, she began to smile again. Gosh her smile is so pretty. She is so pretty.

“Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? Who are your parents? What was your childhood like? what is your favourite colour? What is your darkest secret?-“ She began to ramble on with different questions, you grabbed her hand to make her stop for a moment. She froze, looking down at the contact. Scared, you retracted your arm quickly as she looked at you.

‘oh shit, you done fucked it-’ you thought.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ apologies started to spew out of you.

“No no! it’s ok! I’m just not- used to that kind of thing.” She looked focused as her brain processed what had just happened.

You felt unsure of what to do, so, you let yourself fall back onto your bed. She looked at you nervously, playing with her hands.

Finally, she laid down next to you, both staring at the ceiling on your backs.

Another moment of quiet.

“My Favourite colour is red.” You practically whispered, turning your head to look at her. She turned to you and smiled. Nadja seemed so excited yet calm in manner.

“So is mine.” Her grin was spread from ear to ear.

“Are you sure you really want to know about me?” The question seemed to dissipate into thin air as Nadja looked at you sternly.

“Of course I do.” She softened her gaze but her answer felt like an order.

With that, you began to tell her about where you were from and what life as a mortal has been like for you. You told her about your friends and the adventures you’ve been on and your family. Her sudden interest in your life made you feel good.

What felt like minutes was really 2 hours. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. The sun had long set, it now being 7:30 PM. Nadja lay on her stomach, kicking her feet like a schoolgirl.

“Oh shit- it’s 7:30 already?? Nadja I gotta get to my chores and start helping out-” You started to get up but she pushed you back down with a firm hand.

“Nonsense! I am your Mistress and I say tonight your job is to hang out with me.” She could tell you were slightly puzzled and shocked.

“Bubs it is okkkkkk. You are mine, I get to decide what you do.” Her words made your stomach flutter and your cheeks flush.

“Ok…but what about-“

“Nuh-uh, the others are fine. Like I said, your only task tonight is to be with me.”

A bit of thought and you couldn’t deny her, you smiled, Nadja had been waiting for that. She began to smile back as well.

The thought of talking further about yourself felt exhausting, and at this, you realised you didn’t know a whole lot about Nadja. Obviously, you knew she was a vampire from Antipaxos that was 500 years old, and that she had a husband (Laszlo) and enjoyed pleasure and killing. But what else?

“Nadja?…”

“Yes my darling angel.” She was so trained on you.

“I wanna know more about you.” She stopped kicking her feet. A mixture of disbelief and sorrow crossed her face. You were unsure if you should have said that.

“What- what do you mean?” She tilted her head.

“I mean like- what are your interests? Passions? Beliefs?” As much as you would like to know her answers, you didn’t want to upset Nadja.

She went quiet for a moment.

“No one has ever asked me that before.” She looked at you with wide, sad eyes. It kind of scared you.

“I mean- if you don’t want to tell me or have the others know or just like want to end the convo here thats-“

She now cut you off by grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it. It was your turn to freeze.

“I do want you to know. I just…I just feel like it’s been hundreds of years since anyone has bothered to ask…” Your heart ached. Bits of pain felt like it trickled from her hand to yours like blood down her sleeve.

“Well, I don’t understand why they wouldn’t. You are so interesting and intelligent and cool and prett-“ You stopped yourself. Nadja raised an eyebrow at you.

“No please, go on.” She smirked now grasping your hand a little tighter.

“No, it’s ok!” You squeaked, it hurt a bit but you didn’t mind. You were more scared of her knowing what you felt.

Nadja let go of your hand.

“Well…I guess I really haven’t told anyone mu-“

Just then there is a knock at the door.

“Nadja darling, I know you’re in there. I and the boys need help wi-“

“LASZLO FUCK OFF! I’m busy with y/n tonight so you’ll have to find HELP ELSEWHERE!”

You hear Laszlo sigh on the other side of the door. He knew not to fight her on this. Walking away he calls to the others, “Welp, we are royally fucked.”

You laugh which draws Nadja’s attention back to you. She grins again.

“Do you think we should go and help them?” you questioned.

“No, they’re fineeeee. Where were we…”

And with that, Nadja talked her heart away. And you absorbed every single word.

#nadja x reader #nadja of antipaxos #what we do in the shadows #laszlo cravensworth #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #colin robinson #nadja wwdits #nandor #guillermo #the guide #laszlo #nadja doll #nadja x y/n

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐚𝐝𝐣𝐚 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mentions of death, sexual things, blood, overall vampire things etc etc

↳ song: super good—leningrad

masterlist!

• The two of you gossip all day long

• Vampire, human, familiar, it doesn't matter. Nadja is finally happy to have one person in the house that she can sit and bitch with all day

• She insists on doing silly human things together all the time, like having a sleepover—even though technically she sleeps durring the day—painting nails and talking about crushes

• "Okay okay I'll go first! I have a crush on—" Nadja paused, grinning excitedly before whispering her answer, "—Laszlo!!"

• "I know Nadj." You smiled. "You're married to him. And these walls aren't very thin. Me and Guillermo can hear you two going at it twenty four seven—"

• "Whatever. Now tell me if there's anyone you'd like to be bound to forever in the act of the matr-a-moany. Boy? Girl? Goat? Come on, do as this generation says and spill!"

• If you're a vampire, the two of you would be able hang out a lot more

• But if you're a human, things can get a little difficult here and there. Trying to visit Nadja while her husband and housemate actively try to make a meal out of you isn't the best grounds for a stable friendship

• She makes sure to remind everyone that you're off limits though

• "Laszlo, no! They are not food! They are my best human friend, my little adorable dollie, and you are not to touch them! And don't you even fucking think about it Colin Robinson! Back the fuck away!"

• "I wasn't even doing anything—"

• "Shut the fuck up Colin Robinson!!"

• For a vampire that has only ever set down roots with two other people, three if you include Guillermo (which she doesn't), you're very lucky that she decided you were worth her time. Which sounds rude and pretentious as fuck, but it's just the way a vampire of her age sees it

• Even Laszlo comes around to you in the end. And concidering he can't suck or fuck you, that's a very big feat! Nadja informs you that you should be proud—which is met with a nervous smile and a confused thank you

#wwdits #wwdits x y/n #wwdits x you #wwdits x reader #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows x reader #what we do in the shadows x you #what we do in the shadows x y/n #nadja of antipaxos #nadja #nadja x reader #nadja x you #nadja x y/n #request #headcanons

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just-a-little-cellist · 9 months

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WWDITS Preference: When You're Sad/Depressed

(A/N: I've felt my depression flaring up lately (doesn't help that I can't watch the new WWDITS season yet lmao) so this is, as usual, totally self-indulgent. hope you enjoy, and feel free to request more stuff like this :D)

(Includes Nadja, Laszlo and Nandor x gender neutral reader)

Nadja:

When she notices that you're feeling out of sorts, Nadja is surprisingly compassionate. While not particularly good at talking things through with you, she does try - at the very least she'll let you rant if you need to - and will loudly assure you that to think lowly of yourself at all is ridiculous, I mean, look at you! You're wonderful! Once you're done talking she takes it upon herself to organize a movie night in an effort to cheer you up. Hearing her enthusiastically sing along to the Mamma Mia soundtrack is at worst a good distraction, and at best it'll get you smiling and singing along too.

(It also goes without saying that if a person has caused your sadness, she'll hunt them down without a second thought.)

Laszlo:

Not that he'd do it for anyone else, but Laszlo will immediately sit down to have a conversation with you if he notices you feeling depressed. It hurts him to see you so deflated and he won't stand for it. He will offer advice and affirmations as you talk, and reassures you that you can always confide in him in future if it'll prevent you feeling this way (and, like Nadja, will kill for you if a person caused this).

The same day, he'll compose a song for you on the piano and requests that you sit beside him while he plays it to you for the first time. He'll play that song to you in future whenever you feel down as a reminder of how much he cares for you.

Nandor:

When Nandor sees that you're feeling depressed, he's very empathetic. He's been through his fair share of it, after all. His methods of helping aim more towards taking your mind off of things and making you smile. He'll take you out somewhere if you feel up to it, dance with you at home if you want to stay in (honestly I'd kill to slow dance with Nandor), and gives you plenty of physical affection.

Everything that he does, he watches your face carefully until he sees you smile and then beams at you like you're his entire world. He will not stop until he's sure that you feel loved and wanted, and on particularly bad days he will go to the lengths of making a glitter portrait for you.

#wwdits #what we do in the shadows x reader #what we do in the shadows #wwdits x reader #nadja of antipaxos #nadja wwdits #nadja x reader #laszlo cravensworth #wwdits laszlo #laszlo x reader #nandor the relentless #nandor wwdits #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless x reader #wwdits headcanon #wwdits headcanons #nadja hcs #laszlo hcs #nandor hcs

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laszlossweetcheese · 9 months

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more poly nadja laszlo and reader pls?? 😖😖

Your wish is my command <3

We'll Take Care of You

Nadja x Laszlo x Reader

Summary: Nadja and Laszlo help reader relax after a rough day.

Warnings: mega fluff!!

“Goddamn it!” You huff, slamming the door to the house as you enter. You storm up to your room, tears of frustration welling in your eyes. You don’t even stop to say hi to Guillermo on your way to your room, too heated and too close to crying to do so.

Today was absolutely awful. First, you overslept for work and got chewed out by your boss in front of several of your coworkers. Then came the various difficult customers you had to deal with throughout the day, only adding insult to injury. One customer in particular had you remake her coffee three times before screaming at you about your incompetence, nearly pushing you to quit. The cherry on top was when you tripped and fell hard onto the uneven concrete of the sidewalk on your way home. The sting of the scrape on your knee wasn’t what led you to collapse onto your bed and sob, however. The day had just thrown way too many hurdles at you and you were /so tired/.

Only a few minutes of crying had passed before there was a gentle knock at your door. “Darling…? We can hear you crying in there, is everything okay?” Nadja calls out softly from the other side.

You sniffle and try to pull yourself together, sitting up and wiping the tears from your flushed cheeks. “I-I’m fine!” You call out, though your trembling voice doesn’t do much to make you sound convincing.

“We’re coming in,” Laszlo calls out, and the door gently opens to reveal your two lovers with worried expressions.

“Oh, my sweet darling baby! What happened?” Nadja coos, hurrying over to you. She takes your face into her hands gently, wiping your tears away gently.

“Who are we killing?” Laszlo asks angrily, convinced someone had hurt you and needed to be taken care of.

“No one, I’m fine! I just…god, I had such a shit day,” you sigh, another soft sob making your chest heave. You explain the trials of the day, your tears finally slowing to a stop as you talk.

The vampires listen to you vent, listening intently the whole time. Each of them took a seat on either side of you, comforting you with gentle touches. Nadja kept caressing your cheeks while Laszlo placed a reassuring hand on your thigh.

“I’d say that does sound like a shit day,” Laszlo says, sharing a look with Nadja. They nod to each other and you wonder what they’re thinking.

“Don’t you worry, sweetie! We are going to take care of you, okay? You deserve some relaxation,” Nadja says with a sweet smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead and making you smile.

“Thanks guys. I already feel much better just talking about it,” you admit, giving Laszlo’s hand a gentle squeeze as you lean into Nadja.

They help you to your feet and lead you to the bathroom, starting a hot bath as you watch. With candles lit and the tub full, the vampires help you undress, giving you soft kisses as they go. You melt into their touches, your heart swelling with affection for them both. You sigh happily as you sink into the hot water, your body already starting to relax. They join you in the tub, with Laszlo at your back and Nadja facing you.

“Just relax, darling. We’ve got you,” Laszlo murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You let your eyes close and lean back against his chest, a relaxed smile on your face.

Nadja lathers up a loofah with a sweet smelling body wash and begins scrubbing your body down gently, starting with your arms. She massages your tense muscles as she goes, taking her time and making sure to get every inch of you that she can.

As Nadja lifts up each of your legs out of the water to scrub them down as well, Laszlo gets to work with the shampoo. His fingers rhythmically massage it into your scalp, eliciting another content sigh from you. You could cry from the sweetness of their touch and how careful they were being with you.

Once you’re clean, they take their time rinsing you off, letting you stay in the hot water for as long as they can. Eventually, the water begins to go cold and they help you out, your body feeling like jello. Nadja catches you as your knees threaten to buckle beneath you, holding you up as Laszlo wraps a fluffy towel around you. Once you’ve all dried off enough, you get comfortable in your bed, a vampire on either side of you.

“You don’t have to keep going to that awful place you know,” Nadja says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Collin handles the money just fine! You don’t have to work.”

You sigh, giving her a gentle smile. “I know…I just like having a little money of my own. I love being your familiar and would love to stay home with you, but I like having something to do outside of the house when you’re sleeping. Even when it’s stressful.” “Just don’t push yourself too hard, my sweet. We hate seeing you cry,” Laszlo says, pressing a kiss to your other cheek.

“We really do hate to see you in pain, my love. But we also want you to do what makes you happy!” Nadja agrees, resting her head on your chest and nuzzling closer to you.

You smile, running your fingers through her hair and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What if I only work part time from now on?” You suggest, looking over at Laszlo. “That way I’m not as stressed but I can keep working and you two don’t have to worry about me so much.”

“Can I also kill your boss for yelling at you?” Laszlo asks, earning a laugh from you.

“No, you can’t kill my boss…yet. He gets another strike and then he’s all yours,” you decide, giving Laszlo a quick kiss. You let out a breath as you get comfortable with your lovers, all of you entangled in each other’s arms.

“Thank you again,” you whisper, your eyes closing as you start to drift off. “For everything.” With that, you drift off, comforted by your lovers’ embrace.

#what we do in the shadows #laszlo x reader #nadja x reader #laszlo cravensworth #nadja of antipaxos #laszlo x nadja x reader #wwdits #fanfic #fluff #comfort

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lottieslesbiancurtains · 9 days

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nadja of antipaxos x f!vamp!reader

(nadja is still married to laszlo, reader is nadja’s gf)

• she’s not big on fluffy PDA, so moments where it’s just the two of you and bonding over something is like a warm hug for the both of you

• she definitely sired you! the second she saw you she couldn’t keep her fangs away, she couldn’t resist you

• she LOVES having another girl around the house! she also loves the fact that you happen to be her gf too teehee

• ranting about laszlo is lowkey a daily occurrence. she’ll rant, say how much she loves you both, and then you’ll fuck!

• it’s canon that she sires powerful offspring (jenna being able to TURN INVISIBLE??) so you definitely have some cool vampire power that she loves showing off like “hey this is my girlfriend, i sired her. she’s so powerful! we r gonna kiss now”

• you’re ALWAYS defending her to the boys, we all know she’s the most powerful vampire in that house, sometimes she just needs another voice echoing her opinions and that’s okay!

• helping her run nadjas and helping her with the math on how much money is a little too much to launder (bc she’s 500+ years old and “math ain’t like it used to be honey”)

• helping her with corsets! laszlo was NO help.

• sometimes you feel a little guilty about yours and nadjas relationship. sometimes you feel second to laszlo and other times you feel like you’re separating them. but nadja is CONSTANTLY reassuring you that isn’t the case (and so is laszlo!)

• being besties w guillermo and/or laszlo (i don’t make the rules)

• insults your outfits (in a jokey way hehe) bc her fashion sense is superior

nsfw!

• SWITCHHHH but MAJOR dom. LOVES being in control. tbh she loves being in control of everything in her life but ESPECIALLY during sex

• she loves undressing you slowly, gently.

• major boobs woman

• the strap is like her favourite thing ever. constantly talking about how she doesn’t know what she did without it.

• encourages you to sleep with other people too (only if you’re comfy) because she’s very confident in that you will always love her and come back to her

• HICKEYSSSS. guillermo once made a joke about you ‘sleeping with a vampire’ and then realised…!

• did i say she loves boobs? because she LOVES them.

• overstimulation is a MAJOR kink of hers

• ^ so is quickies lols

#nadja x reader #nadja of antipaxos #nadja of antipaxos x reader #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nadja what we do in the shadows #nadja wwdits

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celestialmilfs · 10 months

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Feast

Character: Nadja of Antipaxos Word Count: 6,079 Warnings: Blood, Vampire-typical violence, death Rating: M (for violence -- no smut today) Description: Watching the dying woman’s slowly rising chest with your hands upturned on your thighs, you vaguely feel like you’ve been sat at an altar of worship, to take part in communion of a different kind – the kind that Nadja beside you knows as well as a dead man’s flesh on her tongue. -- There's no worse (or better) day to work a night shift than when Nadja of Antipaxos arrives in London. She is bound to be angry, and very, very hungry. A/N: Happy season 5 countdown!! Here’s a bit of Nadja to ease the wait.

The cigarette tastes bitter and stale as you take a drag and blow out a puff of smoke. You quit a year ago. And then again, two months later. One more time, at the end of June. It never did quite stick.

“You alright, mate?”

One of your co-workers, a man in his late fifties dressed in grimy company overalls and a worn blue cap comes to stand beside you. He seems to be enjoying his smoke significantly more than you.

You never did remember his name. Cal? Cap? Cam? It definitely started with a C.

“Yeah,” you say. “Just savoring it.” You gesture at the dirty midnight streets of Hackney. Nothing quite like working the nights to figure a new place out, to find the heart of it.

Someone pukes a few corners down, and you throw out the remaining half of your cigarette, no longer interested.

Cam laughs. “Nice night for sure. You been here long?”

“Arrived a month back.” You breathe in the stinging air, savoring the bite of Cam’s cigarette smoke.

“London’s all right.” Cam leans his hand over the paint can acting as an ashtray and flicks his cigarette. The burnt remains fall like little snowflakes. “It’s not like films or nothing, but it’s all right. Could be worse.”

“Oh, yeah?” you ask him just as a man, presumably the same one who emptied his stomach just moments ago, stumbles into view and passes you by, careening first towards you, and then back into the opposing wall. You can smell the piss on him all the way from here. “What qualifies as worse?”

Cam coughs and smiles for the first time. His teeth are yellow, and one of them is chipped.

“Let’s just leave it at that, eh?” he says, drains the rest of his cigarette, and throws the remains into the can. He clears his throat wetly, and spits a ball of phlegm into the gutter.

“Time to go?” you ask. He nods quietly, and you follow him back inside.

The warehouse is massive compared to any you’d worked in before. Black splotches crawl from floor to ceiling in a mixture of shadows and spilled engine oil. Yellow support beams reach all the way to the top, stained and worn from holding the place up since the day it was built. The walls are solid concrete, save for the huge shutter doors that open into the chilly night like windows into a different dimension.

The place is bustling — people swarm it like bees loading and unloading, shouting for assistance or barking orders, driving heavy, wheezing trucks and whizzing by on forklifts. The noise is immense.

“There you are!” A gruff male voice calls a few feet away, muffled by the crowd. Your head whips in his direction as he pushes past a group of men with clipboards and hardhats.

Your boss, Tomas, is hard to forget — thick, wild eyebrows constantly bent in disappointment, gaunt cheeks covered in greying stubble, and the constant, pungent stench of sweat poorly disguised by cheap cologne. He’s huffing heavily by the time he reaches you. “Where the fuck have you been, eh?”

Sorry,” you say, tongue thick and dry in your mouth as you try to speak. “I didn’t know we’d already—”

“Bull-fucking-shit, I say.” His hands are for once out of his pockets, and he points his dirt-stained finger towards a Barrington Freight truck that had just entered the building. “Get to work or you’re out — both of you.”

Without another word, you scurry to the truck with Cam on your tail. Cam, who is entirely unbothered by getting chewed out by the boss. He digs something out of his teeth with his little finger and shakes his head as he approaches.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says and pulls you out of the way as the truck’s rear doors swing open. He pats your shoulder, much like you imagine a father would. “He pulls that shit every time you take a break. You get used to it.”

You glance back at Tomas, currently busy shouting at a truck driver with so much force you can see spit all the way from here.

“Come on,” Cam says. He climbs inside the cargo space and then offers you a hand that you gratefully take.

Multiple hours pass by in chunks of wrapping and piling and driving and avoiding the wrathful eye of Tomas. It’s monotonous work, work that will remind you of its price the following morning when you roll out of bed only to realize that your back is permanently bent in the shape of an S. But it pays the bills. Parts of them, anyway.

The truck empties slowly, and it seems to be matching up with your lunch break quite nicely. You can’t say you look that forward to fifteen minutes in the front seat of your car with a sandwich and a water bottle, but it’s still a little bit of breathing room.

Just a little further.

There are two crates left, both of them shoddily thrown together and just a bit taller than you, and if you weren’t a little bit superstitious, you might have even said they look like coffins.

You go to push one of them towards the forklift, currently operated by Cam, but stop as soon as you’re close enough to put your hands on the fractured surface.

The edge of the lid is slightly open, the nails still trying to keep it shut completely bent out of shape. Some of them are missing altogether. A thin crack runs down from the corner of the lid and ends right in the middle.

“Hey, Cam?” You chance a quick glance at him, just to make sure his half-open eyes are looking at you. “What do we do about this?”

He doesn’t ask what this is, doesn’t say anything at all, and instead clambers into the truck, absentmindedly scratching at the bald patch hidden beneath his cap.

“Ah, shit,” he says and wipes his forehead. “We gotta check for damage, make sure the goods are still good. If everything’s okay we just seal it back up and let it find its owner like any other package. Got it?”

“Got it.”

You don’t know if he’s talking protocol or if he’s pulling this out of his ass to cover for you, but you appreciate it all the same. Cam looks around for a moment and then hops back out of the truck. He returns with a banged up crowbar, nicked and stained by countless doors and boxes. Maybe even a burglary, who knows.

He turns around, looks both ways, and closes the rear doors behind him.

“You got a light?” he asks, and you quickly fish your phone from your pocket to guide him with its flashlight.

Cam dips the crowbar under the lid of the strange crate and places his foot carefully at the other end.

“Cover your ears,” he says, and you do as you’re told.

The wood cracks as the lid breaks into two. You watch the broken piece ricochet off the wall and clatter to the floor, right by your feet.

“What the fuck?” Cam whispers. He takes a cautious step back, the crowbar held tightly in his hands, pointed toward the crate like a knife.

You frown from your position a few feet away. When he doesn’t say anything further, you approach him, steps loud and heavy, heart fluttering with curiosity and a healthy dose of fear. You’ve known Cam for all of five hours, but you get the feeling that he usually doesn’t rattle easily.

You look inside the crate, and breath runs from you like a pheasant in the burning woods.

A corpse. Inside an obsidian coffin with a broken lid lies a beautiful woman, perfectly preserved. Her nose is straight and sharp, and the curve of it leads down to thick lips, painted dark crimson. Her skin is dry and cracked around her knuckles, and there are splinters under her long nails. Black hair cascades down her shoulders onto her preposterously detailed dress — an incredibly well-kept antique by the looks of it. Early 19th century, maybe? If it weren’t for the dried mascara on her cheeks, she might as well be a porcelain doll, posed and painted to perfection.

“Do you mind?”

Something shuffles beneath the wood, and small childlike hands reach for the splintered edge. Some far off place in your brain wants to warn her to not touch it, but you’ve long since lost contact with your mouth.

A doll nearly identical to the dead woman crawls into sight, its face twisted in frustration.

“Well, what are you staring at?” it asks. “How about a little help?”

You scream and lose your footing as you try to back away. Pain flares in your spine as your back hits steel. Your phone falls from your hand but the light stays on to coldly illuminate the insanity in front of you. By your side, Cam is like a statue of stone, with the crowbar now pointed at the little doll.

Beneath it, the woman creaks to life. A thin layer of dust billows forth as her hand rises slowly, reaching for Cam. Cam, who’s offered her a helping hand in return.

You can’t look away. You’ve never been the type.

The woman’s fingers curl around Cam’s wrist and she snatches a grown man off his feet like he’s made of thin air. A snarl tears from her throat when she opens her mouth and crushes his throat between her jaws. He doesn’t even have time to scream before his neck snaps, the crack soft compared to the moist crunch of the woman’s teeth — fangs sinking into him. The second he is dead, she pulls her head back, and slowly, as if she’s savoring the feeling, she rips off a piece of flesh and suckles it, her cheeks hollowing, and then spits it across the cargo space. In a flash, she’s back at Cam’s neck to nuzzle the spraying arteries, the mangled flesh, the red bone – almost like in prayer, like this is a holy gift sent from the gods and the only thing she can do is accept.

She licks his exposed jugular, dips her jaw into the crevasse of his destroyed throat, and drinks.

Cam empties of fluid in seconds, and his husk of a body falls to the floor with a hollow thud.

The woman lets go with a thin gasp. She wipes her eyes, wipes her mouth. Her hair is soaked, as is her entire face, and she leaves a dripping trail as she climbs out of the crate, red handprints sharp against its pale wood.

She smacks her lips and coughs, mouth downturned in disgust.

“Oh, ugh,” she says. “Anemia.” She blows a raspberry and shakes her head. “Fuck me.”

“Been there, done that,” the doll says, its plastic face dyed a deep, dark red. “You made a hell of a mess, there.”

The woman turns to the doll and makes a face — apparently one of offense, because the doll flips her off in return.

“You try doing this shit,” the woman says, and kicks Cam’s body to emphasize her point. A twitch shakes you from head to toe. “I haven’t gone this hungry since I had to flee the country in 1857.”

The doll imitates her voice mockingly, and the woman curses potently in return. She grabs a bunch of her soaked hair and twists it; a small puddle of blood forms by Cam’s corpse.

“Wait,” the doll says. “What about that one?”

She points at you with a tiny pale hand, and all heat escapes your body. Your fingers feel like blocks of ice as you try to crawl toward the rear doors. Pressure builds in your throat and your mouth opens in an involuntary, instinctual scream of terror, but before a single squeak escapes, the woman rushes you at unprecedented speed and slams your back to the floor. Air explodes from your lungs, and if it wasn’t for the woman’s hand firmly over your mouth, you’d be left gasping.

“I’m not sure,” she says. You whimper and try to free yourself, but her grip is like iron. You can only watch her, desperate, like a pleading mouse in the claws of a hawk.

She purses her lips and looks at you like yesterday’s leftovers. “I’m still a little hungry. But I don’t know if I want to finish this one so quickly.”

A hoarse wail slips past your lips despite the woman’s best attempts at keeping you quiet.

“Let’s take it with us, then,” the doll says, flipping its hair. “I’m down for some fun.”

“Maybe.” The woman turns your head from side to side, appraising. She lowers her face to your neck and your pulse picks up. Your breath quickens. Panic makes lights up inside of you like a flash fire. The woman drags her nose up your neck and places a sloppy kiss on your jaw, as if your fear only enhances her hunt. “I could go for a little snack, still.”

Tears burn your eyes and fall down your temples. The woman catches one, brushes it into your skin and then puts the finger in her mouth, her tongue peeking out to savor your fear.

“Don’t worry, little morsel,” she says, and boops your nose with her manicured nail. “You’re going to a good cause.”

You try to shriek past her hand but her hold only grows stronger as she bends over you and, despite your thrashing limbs, your punches and kicks and scratching fingernails, she plunges her teeth into the side of your neck.

It stings, sharp as a needle, and then the rest of her teeth dig in, like a vice lined with rows of broken glass. What follows is the strangest of sensations. You’ve had hickies from past lovers, even been bitten by your best friend’s niece, but it’s nothing like this feeling of being drained, emptied like pulling guts out of a fish.

Your fingers claw at her face out of pure instinct, nothing more. She swats you away like a fly and continues, uninterested in your distress.

Your flailing weakens when your limbs grow heavy, like they’ve been replaced with brick. The woman’s hair is in your face, thick and wet and suffocating, and the only thing you can see is neverending black, like staring into a dead void.

You begin to grow still, only twitching when the woman’s teeth dig deeper for just a few more drops.

Wood cracks behind you. The woman pulls back with a deep breath, heady and broken, and turns to look at the commotion along with you.

The other crate, the identical one; its lid is in shambles on the floor, and a man climbs out.

He is short, with a stubbled chin and a pale brown coat, stained with sweat. You smell something acrid as he comes closer, pushing his cracked glasses up his nose.

“H—Help,” you whine through a mouthful of blood. You can barely lift your arm to reach for him. “Please.”

The man looks at you, looks at the woman, and curses in Spanish.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he says to the woman.

Darkness finally claims you.

—

You awaken, every muscle in your body sore and aching, in a beautifully decorated living room.

It is dimly lit with candles of wildly different shape and size, freely leaking wax onto the floor, the mantle of the fireplace and the coffee table. The walls are old and wooden, decorated with portraits of the people who must live here: a rich-looking family, blond except for the youngest son and the dog. Beside the paintings are thick curtains, their beautiful silk stapled shut to keep out the sun.

The sun.

How long has it been? What even happened?

You sit up with a groan, your head immediately protesting via a sharp blast of pain behind your eyes. The world flashes to white, then to black, and then finally fades back into view. Another pain bursts forth, this time on your neck, and you cover the spot with your hand, only to be met with a thick layer of bandaging.

You breathe in as deep as you can, and your throat burns, seethes like fire reduced to coals.

Thirsty.

So, so thirsty.

You swallow several times, but it brings forth the taste of vomit and inflames the pain in your mouth — in your teeth. Your canines ache like you’ve badly chipped them, but when you feel the tips with your tongue, they’re unharmed, if a little sore. And much sharper than you remember.

Something tickles the corner of your eye and you gently rub your lower eyelid. Whatever it is flakes off onto your finger. You blink away the spots in your vision and try to inspect the stain despite the dim lighting.

Blood. Long since dried, but impossible not to recognize.

You knead your whole cheek with the flesh of your palm and manage to scrape off a long stain that runs down from the corner of your eye to the top of your upper lip. Strangely, you can’t find the source of it. There’s no cut – you can’t even feel a bruise.

Something clatters in the distance, beyond a door to your right. You strain your ears for more, for footsteps or muffled words, but can’t hear anything but the ringing in your ears.

As gently as you can, you set your feet down on the carpet, soft and plush, and probably worth more than your yearly salary. You test your legs, put a little bit of weight on both of them. A twinge of pain, an echo of severe strain, as if you’d just fought off an intense fever, but other than that, you manage to stand up fine with the assistance of a decorative floor lamp.

You place your palm against the wall, firm and steady, and take a step, just to test the waters. Though your knees wobble and every moment of it hurts, you manage to get moving.

The doorknob is old and made of brass. Your heart is in your throat as you turn it, only to meet no objection. It turns smooth as butter, and the door clicks open, inviting you further.

Beyond, you arrive into a dining room. A massive table stands in the middle of the room, laden with plates and trays of food, all of it half-eaten, like the occupants had stood and left in the middle of dinner. Their forks are still buried in potatoes and steak.

The smell is a crooked kind of heavenly. You know meat, remember it. Your uncle standing at the grill, turning sausages; shepherd’s pie right out of the oven; chicken wings, covered in barbecue sauce. But the smell is off, as if you’d forgotten the fine details of it and could only sense a hazy memory.

Your nose leads you to the spot at the head of the table, furthest from the door you entered. The veal on this plate is half-pink, the way you’d never eaten it.

You don’t need a fork or a knife. You take hold of the nearest chair for support, snatch the meat from the plate with your bare hands and take a bite.

It goes down quickly, and you expect the satisfaction of a meal well prepared, but instead your stomach cramps and you heave, overtaken by nausea. The meager morsel comes up to stain the hardwood floor along with a splash of stomach acid, burning your esophagus like molten magma.

You stare at the mess, brows furrowed and your mouth open, drool still dripping off your lower lip.

Thirst strikes you as if you’re stranded at sea and you pick up a glass, half-full of wine. Usually, it’s not your drink of choice, but at this point you would drink gasoline straight from the pump if you could.

Your fingers tremble and the glass is at your lips, but your stomach turns — enough for you to gag and let the glass slip from your hand to shatter against the floor.

The sound, at least, is satisfying.

Another door to your right opens. You try to hide behind the chair, but your vision fills with dark spots again, and you sway, eyes barely open as you stare at the man standing in the doorway.

It comes back, then. Maybe it’s his cracked glasses, or the smell of viscera enveloping him, but you remember nevertheless.

A late night shift.

A crate.

Cam.

Sick burns the back of your throat all over again as you remember his bloodied corpse on the floor of the truck, staring at you with pale blue eyes, red-rimmed and frightened.

You finally fall to your knees, unable to keep yourself standing a second longer.

The side of your neck burns, and this time you tear at the bandage until it shreds to pieces. There, right where you remember the woman’s cold lips, is a bumpy scar in the shape of her teeth. It’s not as rough as you imagined it would be.

“That’ll be gone in a week or two,” the man says, nonchalantly. “You’ll be good as new.”

He sounds almost derisive. Like you aren’t worth his time. Like you’re beneath him.

A growl rises from your throat, deep and guttural. The tremble in your larynx is simultaneously foreign, like suddenly breathing fire, and as natural as breathing.

“You,” you croak, your shaking finger pointing at his out-of-season sweater. He looks mildly amused, and not even vaguely threatened.

“Oh, boy,” he says.

You leap over the table, dishes and decorations alike crashing to the floor as you clear the room in one single jump without an inch of wind-up. The man doesn’t even take a step back. You snarl and circle him, taking in his scent, the sweet ambrosia staining his plastic apron.

“Where am I?” you ask him. “What did you do to me?”

“I just wanted to take a bath,” he mutters to himself in a voice that should be far too quiet for you to hear. He reaches for his pocket slowly. Whatever weapon he has, you will not give him the chance to draw it.

You leap again with the full strength of your weakened legs, and hurtle right into the wall with a sharp crack as the man dances out of your way like water. He pulls a string of beads out of his pocket — to strangle you, perhaps? It doesn’t matter. He won’t live long enough to lift his arms.

You curl your fingers, claws at the ready, and soar towards him again with a hiss. He dodges, an infuriating smirk on his lips – one that makes you want to break his nose. He slaps something into your back: cold metal that instantly turns searing. You shriek, your hands flying to cover the injury. Your knees buckle, and you bang your forehead into the corner of the table as you go down.

The man comes to stand in front of you and lets the beads dangle by his knees. There’s a beautiful cross between the rosary beads. He must have stabbed you with it — but there’s no blood to prove it.

You pull your hand away from the wound, only to find no wound at all. Your fingers brush the bumpy ridges of a burn scar that’s already beginning to fade.

You look up at the man, confused.

“What’s happening to me?” you ask him. In return, he looks at you like you're an animal too fragile to put down. A chick that got under his skin before he could lop the head off. The man rubs his temple and pockets the rosary.

“Come on,” he says, and puts his hand around your arm.

“What?”

He painfully lifts you to your feet, and you growl in protest.

The man rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

You’re shown through a variety of rooms: a library, a sitting room, a music room, and then up the stairs and through a long, dark hall lit with more candles. Every curtain in the house has been drawn, and some of the windows are covered with newspaper.

You arrive at a door that’s identical to all the other ones: dark, wooden, and with an ornate brass handle. It’s the smell that’s different; sweet and rich and delicious, and it makes you fidget in anticipation as the man fixes his glasses on his nose and knocks twice, his knuckles sharp against the wood. The sound feels like an ice pick driven through your skull, hammered a good two inches in with each rap.

Muffled groans slip past the door, but no one answers. The man knocks again with a bothered sigh. When no one turns up, he opens it himself.

“Nadja?” he says, annoyed.

Your jaw falls open at the sight on the other side.

On the floor are three bodies, mangled and dried up like raisins. A middle-aged man, tall and lanky, by the upended desk and its former contents. Another man, shorter and stockier, spread on the stained satin couch. A woman, no older than twenty, in front of the massive bookshelf by the farthest wall.

In the middle of the twisted formation is the woman, the one who murdered Cam.

Nadja.

Her face is buried in another victim, a woman in her forties with red hair and a ripped safety-vest. Her glasses fall off her nose as you watch.

The man next to you takes a look at your face and scoffs. “Well, we couldn’t leave witnesses, could we?”

You wait for horror, for nausea and fright and all the things that come with seeing real dead people strewn on the floor of someone’s personal library.

It never comes, though. None of it.

You don’t faint in shock. You don’t scream. You barely feel grief as a thick, pungent veil overwhelms you, like the perfumed kiss of a lover pressed to your forehead. The corners of your lips lift, and you feel a little laugh bubbling in your throat, just like after two glasses of champagne on an empty stomach.

Nadja finally notices you two, and rolls her eyes. With a smack she releases the woman on her lap, who drops to the floor and begins to bleed freely into the ornate rug. It feels like a waste. You want to cup your hands beneath the tooth marks on her neck to save what you can.

“What the fuck, Guillermo?” Nadja says.

Guillermo points at you. “This guy finally woke up.”

Nadja licks her teeth, digging at a bit of skin stuck between her incisors. “Why is it my problem?”

“You’re the sire.” His voice is deadpan, like he’s stating the obvious. “You deal with it. I have my hands full with the shit you pulled back at the warehouse.”

Nadja groans like there’s a knife caught between her ribs. You wait silently, lost in the strange haze caused by the smell – and the faint taste – of the room. Nadja worries at her teeth for one more moment and then finally gets up.

“Fine. But just the basics.”

You feel her stare at you, but you can’t take your eyes off the woman slowly bleeding to death in the middle of the room. The burning in your throat grows stronger, brighter, and butterflies take off in your belly when Nadja comes closer and brings the smell of death with her.

She snaps her fingers in front of your face, and you return to your body. She sighs.

“You’re hungry, dumb-dumb.” She grabs the collar of your shirt to drag you into the room. The smell intensifies and you can’t help drawing in a breath so deep you feel your lungs might burst. Nadja stops and turns to Guillermo, who is still standing in the doorway. “What the fuck are you still here for?”

Guillermo looks like he wants to say something along the lines of fuck you and your mother too, but instead he offers Nadja a smile that doesn’t even remotely reach his eyes and closes the door.

“Good.” Nadja lets go of you and you stumble, still unsteady on your feet. “Now, how are you feeling?”

“What?” you ask her through the smell invading the rest of your senses. The burnt orange light from the candles fades into a vivid maroon, casting the room into pulsing shadows, the strongest of which keeps pulling you towards the syrupy fragrance stuck to the woman discarded by Nadja.

Nadja laughs, and you marvel at the sound. It’s harsh, like a swarm of bees or the screech of a cat.

“Weak in the knees? Little human tummy all upset? Feel like someone put you in one of those blendy things and drank you and shit you out?”

You tick every box on her list, slightly perturbed as to how she knew each one. She then looks at the drained bodies at your feet, specifically at the woman still gurgling only a foot and a half away from you.

“Thirsty?” she asks with a honeyed voice.

You nod, too much and too fast, and regret it immediately when lightning strikes behind your eyelids.

“I thought so,” Nadja says and walks to the dying woman. She drags her to you by her arms, and her pained moans sound like sirens beckoning you into the dark depths of the sea. Nadja appraises you for a moment, takes careful inventory of your clothes, your hair, and then purses her lips. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

Some semblance of fear finally seeps into you, and you watch Nadja carefully, measuring the distance between you. “No.”

“Shame. You look like you’d be good at it.”

Nadja crouches and grabs the woman’s chin to turn her head and expose the neck. It isn’t like in the movies, with two tiny round holes to mark the canines. The woman’s skin is rough and torn where Nadja’s jaws were locked before, both rows of teeth firmly sunk into the flesh. She’s beginning to empty; the tide of blood grows slower on her neck and her wet gasps for air are fewer and far between. Based on the gently rueful expression on her face, she knows the end is near as well.

It twists the tight coil of panic in your gut.

She’s going to waste.

Nadja rises to her feet with a grunt.

“I’ll help you, but only because you’re cute and it’s your first time,” she says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you reply weakly through your trance. Nadja’s hands encircle yours and she presses her thumbs into your palms to pull you down to your knees with her.

Watching the dying woman’s slowly rising chest, with your hands upturned on your thighs, you vaguely feel like you’ve been sat at an altar of worship, to take part in communion of a different kind – the kind that Nadja beside you knows as well as a dead man’s flesh on her tongue.

Nadja takes your hand and places it behind the woman’s neck, slick with blood.

“Hold on tight,” she says and waits as you tangle your fingers into the woman’s hair. “The first time is the most intense — you’ll need the support. Don’t be afraid to break a few bones.”

Your mouth opens. The woman’s scent hits you like a mirror shattering, and you take a shuddering breath as you bend yourself over her. She coughs and wheezes, blood splashing from her lips, and she looks straight at you. Her eyes are the same shade of green as the calathea on your windowsill.

Nadja sighs. “Look, she’s going to die anyway,” she says. “Make use of her or don’t. I don’t mind a bit of dessert.”

But you can’t move. The woman is staring at you like a drowning mutt, and under her severe watch you can’t make yourself take the leap.

Nadja slides herself behind you and presses into your back, her whalebone corset pronounced against your thin, sweat-soaked shirt. The beads of her dress prick at you, but her breast is soft on your shoulder blade.

She grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your head down. You inhale slowly, let the enticing scent of iron, of cypress and cherries reach the back of your mouth, and nuzzle the woman’s neck. Nadja’s fingers curl tighter against your scalp, and you finally feast.

The taste is inexplicable. Exquisite beyond your wildest hunger-ridden dreams. It reminds you of a hot summer day, at dusk when the sun has set but the air is still so humid you can feel it move on your skin; of the first autumn evening, when you get to dig candles from the back of your kitchen cabinet and put them by the window; of a winter morning spent indoors with your friends, bundled up by the radiator with a cup of coffee that’s too bitter to drink.

It is relief. It is frenzy. It is peace of mind. It is hysteria.

The accursed burning in your throat ebbs at last, and you hear yourself laughing around the human flesh in your mouth. Something tears, splits, and you move deeper in search of more, more; you bite, you suckle, you drink like it’s your last day on earth until your lips are wrapped around an empty, sunken shell devoid of life, and more importantly, of sustenance.

You finally let go, gasping for air as the woman’s body falls from your hands and onto the floor, her head thumping as it hits the carpet. You lick the remains from your fingers, tongue dipping under the nail so you don’t miss a single drop.

Nadja’s hand untangles from your hair, and her head falls on your shoulder.

“Good, right?” she asks with a sigh. “I still remember my first time. The 1600’s were something else.” She cranes her neck to see your face and slips her arm around you to wipe something off your cheek. Her fingertip comes away bloody, and you open your mouth, but she quickly dips it between her own lips instead. She laughs, softer and more languid this time, and shakes her head. “Someone’s eager. But you’re lucky — this one was the best of the batch.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. She looks at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“So you do have manners.” She huffs another laugh, and runs her eyes down your face slowly, from the arch of your brow to the curve of your chin. “Feel any better?”

“Yes.” The churning growl in your belly has been sated and replaced with a soft, heavy weight, a warmth that spreads all the way to the tips of your fingers. Your head has been filled with cotton and you have trouble keeping your eyes open anymore. “Warm. Good.”

Nadja smiles, wide enough for the tips of her fangs to peek from under her lip. “Sleepy?”

You nod, leaning too hard into the movement, and find yourself approaching the floor at an alarming rate. Nadja’s arm tightens around you, and she pulls you back until you’re off your knees and sagging against her instead. Engulfed by her sea of hair and the abundant layers of her dress, you wait for a reprimand with bated breath, but she lets you lie right where you are without a word. When you make the effort to look up, you’re met with her face, curiously watching you with a small and devious smile. Drops of blood are coagulating on her eyelashes, glittering like gemstones under the light.

“You’re beautiful,” you say, drawing your thumb slowly across her cheekbone. Nadja’s smile widens into a mischievous grin.

“I knew you’d be good at murder,” she says. “A little messy, but first kill is always like that. We’ll fine-tune your technique later.”

You finally let that champagne-laugh bubble over and it spills from your mouth like birdsong, bright and borderline hysteric. Nadja joins your laughter, and you both fall over to the squishy, bloodied carpet.

Your eyelids grow heavy as you float in the euphoria of feeling truly satisfied for the first time in your life.

"We're going to have so much fun," Nadja whispers. She brushes her hair off your face and kisses the curve of your jaw.

In the strong hold of her arms you let yourself sink into oblivion. Your dreams are filled with the sting of her knife-sharp teeth at your neck.

#Nadja/Reader #Nadja x Reader #Nadja of Antipaxos #Reader #Nadja #WWDITS

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hotpinkboots · 7 months

Note

Oh. My. God. Hi there!!! I’ve been desperately trying to find others who still love WWDITS and write for them so when I came across your post I almost screamed. Can I get Yandere Nadja x Female!Familiar?

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~Yandere!𝕹𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆 x Fem!Familiar!Reader Headcanons~

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OH. OH HONEY. I had to throw my phone on the couch when I saw this request so I could squeal and wave my hands around. Had me giggling and kicking my feet irl, babes SOMEONE COME SPAM MY INBOX WITH NADJA REQUESTS I'LL KISS YOU

Summary: You're Nadja's stupid little baby. Do I need to explain further

Note(s): I do not watch What We Do In The Shadows episode for episode, I usually skip around. Due to this, some events in the show or the way I portray the characters may be a bit mixed up or off.

Warning(s): Yandere behavior, possessive behavior, gaslighting, guilt tripping, manipulation, objectifying the reader, violence, blood, a little bit of (but not much) sexual content, ect.

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝕹𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆

★★★★

~Nadja has a LOT of big feelings, and she WILL make them known, no matter what the situation is.

~It may not be obvious what she's feeling, but when she's feeling something then everyone is going to feel it, too.

~If she's angry, you had better NOT be caught in the line of fire. If she's sad, she's going to either whine and sulk for attention, or she'll lash out. Emotions vary. She could seem one way when she's really only acting like that because on the inside she's feeling another way.

~So, she's a very hard person to read despite the fact that she speaks her mind without having much of a filter.

~The same goes for how she treats you.

~Her stupid familiar who just follows along with whatever is happening. Her useless human pet who has the HONOR to even be in her presence and clean up after her.

~Treats you like you're her stupid dog.

~She'll degrade you one day, and be giggly with you the next.

~Oh, but don't get too friendly with her, or she'll be annoyed by you. But, make sure you interact just enough, because if you don't, she'll get after you and try to make you entertain her. Ah, yes, but don't try TOO hard to make her happy, either, because you'll get on her nerves.

~The point is that you feel like you're walking on eggshells 24/7.

~She can't decide if she wants you to wear something gorgeous and grand to have you match with her, or if she wants to have you wear ugly baggy clothing so you don't look seem as gorgeous as she does.

~Then she thinks that it'll make HER look bad if you're not dressed up, so she's going to make you wear all the stuff she does so you don't look like you just recently escaped from the sewers after swimming in shit and piss.

~Of course, she might scold you and smack you with the hair brush if you tell her something she's doing with your hair is hurting your scalp.

~But then Nadja saw you smiling in the mirror when she was finished. You looked so gorgeous. So excited to be dressed up like that.

~Suddenly, she wished she could see herself in the mirror beside you.

~Laszlo will join in, too, so all three of you match.

~If you ever have a fight with her, her reactions come in phases.

~First, she'll snap at you and call you names and demand you get out. It's unclear if she means get out of the room, or out of the house, but the point is that she does NOT want to see you after an argument.

~Second, she'll rant and be absolutely furious for awhile.

~Third, she gets upset at herself because she made her own familiar upset. She denies being upset at herself by being a bitch to everybody and claiming they did something wrong, even if they were just standing there.

~Nandor probably got yelled at for just existing or something idk

~Colin Robinson feeds off of all this drama of course.

~Fourth, Nadja decides it's your fault for whatever happened, and she'll cry and run away or something just to get your attention. Will sulk until you're the one to apologize.

~And lastly, once you apologize, she realizes the apology sounds wrong coming from YOUR lips instead of hers, since she was probably the one being a drama queen and making a big deal out of nothing.

~Does not know how the hell to apologize very well but she'll kind of try.

~Nadja will start giving you more cute (sometimes weird) nicknames after that.

~Once she REALLY gets attached and decides she likes you, she'll be silly with you and gossip. She DEMANDS a girl night.

~You're like her pet, now, and will literally go as far as petting your head.

~Does she ever think about putting you in a collar that makes your throat look extra delicious, with a leash attached so she can tug you along and coo at you?

~Absolutely.

~She will beat the absolute shit out of anybody who looks at you the wrong way.

~More than willing to rip open someone's ribs so she can tear out their heart and stomp on it.

~Then she shows you and expects you to be like "wow Nadja you did that for me thank you!"

~Or if you have a terrified reaction, she'll be confused as hell. She just killed someone for you? Hello? That's the ultimate way to show someone you love them, isn't it? Literally be willing to tear people apart for them?

~But she'll baby you and give you a hug, anyway.

~"He was a big stupid asshole, my love, didn't you see the way he looked at you? He deserved to die!"

~Then she'd look back at the bloody scene and point down at the body and yell "He was a PIECE OF OLD PIG SHIT!"

~And then would go back to babying you and giving you all the reasons why the person who looked at you wrong deserved to die

~She has done something like that on multiple occasions and would never be afraid of doing it again.

~Nadja most likely wouldn't make you a vampire for an extremely long time (by that I mean she might literally not do it in time, you might be dead by the time she even decided to consider it 💀. Or, if something awful happens to you and you're on your death bed and she decides she needs you to be immortal for her.)

~She wants you to always be her cute little familiar who comes when called, not her fellow vampire who doesn't work under her anymore.

~If you ever had a one night stand, she's fine with that, and would have everybody in the house sit down so they could listen to you tell them (in detail) everything that happened. You aren't getting out of that one.

~But she would be very jealous if you had a boyfriend/girlfriend, rather than just a fling.

~If you fall in love with anybody, know ahead of time that she's going to consider either murdering them, or at the very least, treating them badly.

~She would try to chase them away by somehow getting them to believe you said something about them that you actually didn't say.

~Then she'd comfort you about your "break up", pretending to be shocked about what happened, as though she didn't plan that.

~Unfortunately for her, she isn't a very good actress, and it's a bit obvious that she was the one who made that happen.

~If you then demanded to know WHY she did that to you, she'd finally admit it in a moment of anger and fear that you found out.

~"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU! I did that for YOU! They weren't good for you, my darling, why the FUCK don't you understand?!"

~Nadja is most definitely a dangerous yandere. She can be just as volatile and demanding as she can be doting and silly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nadja is my favorite character to write as a yandere omg

Request Guidelines!

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Join my Discord server! We have movie nights, art prompts, a lot of places to ramble about your hyperfixations, and a ton of cool people to meet and roleplay with!:

~~~~~~~~~~

~Love, PinkBoots

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#nadja #nadja of antipaxos #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nadja x reader #what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits x reader #pink's fanfic #yandere vampire #vampires x reader #vampire x reader #yandere nadja #yandere nadja x reader

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salemwitchezz · 2 years

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Would you consider prompt 34 (“I thought I’d never see you again”) for a nadja/lazslo bit?

pairing: nadja x gn!human!reader

prompt: 34 - “i thought i’d never see you again.” (angst)

a/n: i wasn’t sure if you meant both of them together or just one of them, so i only did nadja cause she’s the loml. hope it’s okay 🫶🏻

NADJA

it was daytime, and you had been staying at a friends house for just a couple of nights after an outburst from nadja sent you away.

her behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary, but the way her anger felt directly directed towards you this time— it felt a little personal.

…

“unbelievable! i have had my night and dinner ruined by a pair of donkeys and then i come home to find you have broken one of my favorite vases!”

you raise your brow, glancing over at the two shameful looking nandor and lazslo as they cowered into the living area, “i thought you said this vase was worse than looking at a bible-“

“i said none of that skatá!”

you stare at the fuming vampire in front of you, her expression contorted into a frustrated scowl. you decided to take a more gentle approach instead, “it was an accident, i can clean it up and get you a new one-“

“no, i don’t want a new one, you stupid little human! i wanted that one and now i can’t have that one anymore!”

usually the insult would fly over your head, her harsh remarks habitually being empty— towards you at least. but something about this stung, something about her tone felt a little too sincere.

you knew nadja was just taking her anger out of you. she was cranky and frustrated by her long night and her wasted struggle to get some food, but you couldn’t help but let it get to you.

you have absolutely nothing to say, nothing to defend yourself with besides the fact that you were simply a clutz.

“well? are you going to stop gaping at me like a dying whale on a beach and tell me what the fuck you’re gonna do about this?”

you don’t answer her, and it seems she misses the hurt look on your face when she rolls her eyes impatiently before stomping off to her room with a few more strings of greek curses falling from her lips.

after she’s gone, you immediately turn the other way and head for the front door, disappearing for the night.

…

of course, you weren’t planning to stay away forever— just long enough for her to let out a little steam and calm down without you around. even if you weren’t the center of her frustration, you thought it’d still be a good idea to not get your feelings hurt further more.

you would come back anyway— and thats exactly what you were doing, heading back to the vampire residence after a small goodbye and thanks to your friend. it was night time, and you had originally planned to go during the day for safety reasons, but luckily it wasn’t too far of a walk.

that, and you didn’t really wanna wait another day.

you kept an eye out for anything suspicious as you walked in silence, but it’s soon broken, and a sudden screeching of your name nearly makes you jump out of your skin.

you whip around, and calm down when you see none other than nadja speed walking towards you in a desperate pace, and you can’t help the smile that twitches your lips at her determination.

she lets out a sigh of relief when you let her engulf you in hug, her arms tightly wrapped around you, and there’s a familiar sense of comfort in her arms as you sit in the moment for a second.

she pulls back, and you can now see the worried yet relieved expression on her face as she holds yours in her hands.

“oh, honey, where have you been? i thought i’d never see you again.”

there’s a warm, tingly sensation pooling in your stomach at the realization that she missed you, yet there’s still the bitter feeling she left on your heart when you last saw her.

“you’re so lucky i happened to randomly find you while i was out hunting and not some grubby sewer rat. what on earth were you doing?”

you look down for a moment, and she oddly waits for your answer patiently. “i was.. actually heading back to the house.”

“in the middle of the night? oh you soft-brained little lamb—“ she cooes softly in contrast to her words, petting your head. “why did you leave in the first place, hmm?”

you hesitate, letting out a sigh before answering her simply enough, “you were angry at me.”

you see the realization as it flashes across her face, hints of guilt left in the creases of her worried expression.

“oh, of course i wasn’t, moráki mou. i was angry at those two stupid potatoes, nandor and lazslo.”

you nod, “i know, it just hurt a little.”

she rubs your cheeks bones softly, and you lean into her touch, “oh, i am sorry, my love. i didn’t wish to take my anger out on you. and i didn’t mean to be so harsh that it would send you away from me.”

“it’s okay.” you give her a small smile, but before you can say anything else, she tsks at you.

“it is not.” she dreads, guiding you along with her as she begins to walk forward.

“come now, i’ll make it up to you. we’ll have a great day full of activities and fun that’ll make your little head forget of all the horrible things i said.”

you couldn’t say no to that.

translations:

skatá - shit

moráki mou - my little baby

#wwdits x reader #nadja x reader #nadja of antipaxos #nadja of antipaxos x reader #what we do in the shadows x reader #nadja what we do in the shadows #nadja #lazslo cravensworth #lazslo x reader #wwdits

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teagballs · 5 months

Text

requests + masterlist

requests are currently open! ill write fluff and smut, angst and hurt and comfort. im not comfortable with writing about gore and violence. i don't write for obvious fucked up things such as incest, pedophilia, non-con etc.

what fandoms i write for currently:

• arrested development:

• what we do in the shadows

• it's always sunny in philidelphia

• beetlejuice

• superstore

#arrested development x reader #gob bluth x reader #michael bluth x reader #michael x reader #beetlejuice x reader #what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits x reader #nandor x reader #laszlo x reader #nadja x reader #charlie kelly x reader #dennis reynolds x reader #sweet dee x reader #its always sunny in philidelphia x reader #iasip x reader

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neighbourshouse · 4 months

Text

Quality Time Pt.2 (WWDITS)

Nadja x Female Reader

Summary: Nadja wants to know more about you.

Warnings: Kissing, cursing, the usual Nadja. Mostly fluff.

Authors note: Hi guysssssss. Yeah. It's been a minute. I apologize. But I'm back! Please let me know if I should continue this series or stop and write something different. Or both! I also want to explore other characters from different shows, so keep an eye open...

Additionally, I heard the news. I can not bear this world anymore. Season 6 will be the last. I am praying that another network will pick the show up, it truly is so special.

Anyway, here's part two.

Pt. 1: https://www.tumblr.com/neighbourshouse/730947529425944576/quality-time-wwdits?source=share

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Much time had passed. Your heart swooned and so did hers, but neither of you knew that. She appreciated how you listened and your interest, you appreciated her wanting to spend time with you.

Nadja had been talking for a few hours now, the time being nearly 11 p.m. How could you complain, this could be the only time you ever get to spend with her.

She was so lost in thought that she unconsciously switched between running her fingers through your hair and playing with your hands. She was so cute, gaze wandering around the room as she spoke, still kicking her feet like a child.

Your eyes were growing heavy, but you didn’t want to stop listening. To try to get yourself to wake up you shifted to lying on your side, propping yourself up on your arm.

Sleep was calling you, dragging its nails comfortably against your back.

Nadja had let her eyes fall back to your face, taking in your sleepy state. She slowly began to stop talking.

“What’s wrong?” you said, confused. That made you brighten up.

Nadja could only smile, letting her hand wander to your hair again, combing it behind your ear. Her hand then softly cupped your cheek.

Yeah, you were definitely awake now.

“My love, I can see your eyes. Why so tired?” Nadja rubbed her thumb over your cheekbone as a blush crossed your face.

“I’m sorry- I don’t mean to be. I swear I’m listening!” You began to wipe the leftover sleep from your eyes, trying not to smudge your eyeliner and mascara.

Nadja removed your hands from your face with her own, holding onto your wrists. Slowly, one at a time, she wiped residual makeup from under your eyes.

She had become so gentle with you; So gentle that you couldn’t tell who was the putty in the other’s hands.

She smiled at your dozy face.

“Darling, it’s ok…lay back down and close your eyes if you would like.”

Your eyes flicked between hers.

“But I don’t want to…” you spoke quietly. You knew if you did what she said then she would leave. Sleep could wait for you.

“Baby I can tell you are oh so sleepy.” Her tone had become deep and sultry, a smirk threatened to grace her lips.

‘WHAT THE FUCK!’ you thought. You had butterflies in your stomach and why the word "baby"? She only used that with Lazslo. But hey, who were you to question.

Your already pink cheeks flushed darker, telling Nadja what she was doing was working. You didn’t realize how close the two of you were the whole time; Your faces a few inches apart. She was staring into your eyes and you didn’t stop her, you knew you never could.

For a minute the two of you didn’t speak, sitting comfortably in each other’s silence. Nadja liked listening to you breathe.

“You know you’re quite pretty?” she said it so gently. Her gaze had flicked down to your lips and back to your eyes.

It felt like too much. You slowly turned your head away from her, hiding the grin that had spread on your lips. Nadja giggled slightly at this.

“let me see that pretty face….” With her one hand, she took your chin and guided you back to how you were before.

"There it is..." She smirked. If flames could be moulded into hearts, that is what Nadja had behind her eyes.

You wanted what was happening to happen. You’d dreamed of it. But why? She had never shown you ANY sort of affection like this before. Did she feel she owed you for listening to her? Was this how she repaid you for your time? This is all you’ve ever wanted since the moment that you met, so why didn’t you just reach up and kiss her?

“Nadja…”

“Yes?…” She had leaned even closer to you.

“Do you feel you owe me?”

“For what?” She still held her gentle tone.

“For listening to you….” Now you were being foolish. You have a beautiful woman sitting practically in your lap and you’re asking this shit?

“No.”

“oh…why?”

She paused before responding, letting her eyes roam around your face briefly.

“y/n, I can tell you are genuine. You have a good heart. Something I don’t have.” A hint of sadness passed through her voice.

You frowned. All you could think about was how good her heart was to you. You wish she didn’t think that.

You leaned forward and kissed her gently. Nadja closed her eyes and slightly moaned.

And then you pulled back.

Nadja opened her eyes. There was no sadness anymore, it had been replaced with adoration, maybe even something close to love.

She didn’t move. She didn’t fight to get more. She just admired you.

“Out of all the people I have ever been with- and I’ve been with quite a few-” You both giggled.

“No one has…no one has been like this before.”

“Like what?” you say with a raise of a brow. You wanted her to finish her thought.

There was a long pause as she searched your eyes.

“Like… they cared about me.” it was barely a whisper.

Your heart melted.

“Nadja, how can I not care about you?” You whispered.

You didn’t think it was possible but a tear fell from her eye and onto your cheek. It felt cold against your warm skin.

A watery laugh escaped her as the hand that was still cupping your cheek wiped away the tear. Your frown had turned into a small smile with teary eyes.

Continuing, you spoke in a hushed tone.

“When I first met you, I thought you were going to kill me. You licked the side of my neck and thanked Guillermo for the snack...” Both of you laughed again. “And I wasn’t sure if you actually would kill me, or if I would live long enough to see how strong the feelings I have for you could get.” You stiffened at this. Well, you really let that one out, didn’t you? But Nadja didn’t draw away, she only caressed your cheek urging you to continue.

“As incredibly beautiful as you are, for anyone to not see past your beauty and admire your gorgeous mind and character, they are fools.”

Nadja practically leaped forward, kissing you again. You broke for air, almost gasping, but she took that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t complain. She kissed you with so much passion, yet she was gentle.

Finally, you separated, letting air catch your lungs once again. Your hands had fallen to her hips as she straddled your lap. Her arms lazily flung around your shoulders, she played with your hair as she placed kisses all over your face.

She stopped to look at you, your eyes meeting.

“So…” you said.

“So…” She mimicked, a big goofy grin planted on her face.

“What do we do now?”

“Well, we could fuc-“

“No I mean-“ You cut her off before she could finish her sentence. Yes, what she was about to say was more than intriguing, but, you meant it more in the sense of ‘So, that happened, where do we go from here because you’re a vampire, I’m a mortal, and you have a husband.’ type of way.

“I know what you mean…” She said, her eyes lowering to her hands that played with the hem of your shirt.

“Y/n, I have lived for hundreds of years and have yet to experience someone like you. Yes, I have a husband who I love, but also, we both understand that we’re immortal and should be allowed to do what we please. I can love more than one person.”

She had looked back up at you but your eyes had now averted to where your hands lay; at her waist playing with the fabric of her dress.

You looked up meeting her gaze, thinking for a moment.

“Can I ask you a question?” You said gently.

“Of course my love.”

“Would you be interested in trying on some of my clothes?”

Nadja wore a puzzled look on her face.

“If we’re going to be doing this more often, then you’re gonna need to wear something a little lighter. I love your outfits but I’m not immortal and need my ribs.” you said.

She laughed. A genuine laugh.

“Yes it’s true, the dresses are very heavy.”

“And you look beautiful in them.”

Nadja blushes at your comment. She couldn’t help herself. Once again she grabbed your face -a little rougher this time- and planted a firm kiss on your lips.

#nadja of antipaxos #nadja x y/n #nadja x reader #what we do in the shadows #nadja of antipaxos x reader #nandor the relentless #laszlo cravensworth #guillermo de la cruz #colin robinson #nadja wwdits #nadja doll

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