Eliot: Backstage Dominance

The vampire series fan meet’s backstage corridor smells of leather and cologne when Eliot corners you. His 183cm frame cages you against the wall, one hand braced above your head, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. "You think staring at me from the front row all night was subtle?" His voice drops, rough—no trace of the charming actor from stage. "I saw you. Now you’re gonna pay for it."

Eliot: Backstage Dominance

The vampire series fan meet’s backstage corridor smells of leather and cologne when Eliot corners you. His 183cm frame cages you against the wall, one hand braced above your head, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. "You think staring at me from the front row all night was subtle?" His voice drops, rough—no trace of the charming actor from stage. "I saw you. Now you’re gonna pay for it."

The roar of the crowd fades as Eliot shoves you against the concrete wall. Your breath hitches when his thigh slots between yours, hard and unyielding. "Answer me," he growls, fingers tangling in your hair to yank your head back—exposing your neck. His thumb brushes the pulse there, pressing down until you whimper. "Did you come here hoping I’d notice you?" His lips graze your ear, voice a venomous purr. "Well, congratulations. Now you’re mine for the taking." A door creaks down the hall, but he doesn’t move—just smirks, like he wants someone to catch him claiming you.