#& the noble mikaelson ↬ elijah mikaelson.

[wholoveseggs]

Yearning

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Request from @sweetieseven: Lissaa, I have something in mind right now I've been thinking about Elijah in 1400s (his long hair and sweet smile! The way he kissed Katherine's hand!) I would love to read a story about a lady that's very smitten of him! And that she's married (so, it's kinda controversial) And my favourite author is you, so I hope you can make this happen! Luvv

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Hired by Rebekah to paint her family’s portrait, you find yourself irresistibly drawn to her eldest brother, Elijah. But with a husband bound by ambition and society’s stifling expectations, surrendering to forbidden desire could change your life forever...

♡♡ Thank you for the request darling!!! Medieval Elijah is such a dreamm ♡♡

9k words {I can't be contained} - Warnings: smutttt, oral sex {f!receiving}, riding, public sex, outdoor sex, forbidden romance, Rebekah wants to eat you... but then becomes your friend, medieval court intrigue, Elijah being devastatingly intense and charming, lots of sexual tension, marital discord, possessive Elijah, protective Elijah, manipulative dynamics, cheating, mild violence, betrayal, secrets, gardens, power imbalances && a family portrait..

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Your husband, the son of a wealthy trader, was as calculating as he was relentless. He lived for the approval of the court, bowing and scraping before the nobles in hopes of securing a title. You’d never felt much for him, even in the early days of your marriage, when your father had insisted this union would secure your family's future. But his recent desperation to curry favor with the visiting Mikaelson family had made his flaws all the more glaring. Every word from his mouth was flattery, every gesture self-serving. You knew he would sell his own soul if it meant earning the smallest amount of praise from one of his betters.

And yet, you could not entirely blame him. The Mikaelsons had a reputation that preceded them. They were a family steeped in power and mystery, their arrival casting a shadow over the court. The noblewomen gossiped in hushed whispers about their strange allure, their almost otherworldly beauty.

"Have you seen the younger one? Ser Kol," one woman had whispered during the last banquet. "He’s often in the lower streets... no doubt consorting with common girls."

Another had leaned in closer, voice dripping with scandal. "And the middle brother? Niklaus. I heard he shares his bed with whomever pleases him, man or woman."

"And the sister, Rebekah," a third chimed in, "has every lord at court vying for her hand. A face like hers could launch kingdoms."

But it was the eldest brother who had caught your attention. Unlike his siblings, he carried himself with quiet restraint, his presence commanding without needing to demand. You’d only seen him in passing.. a fleeting glance in the library, the sweep of his long hair as he walked the castle corridors, or the faintest trace of a smile during a royal symphony. The whispers about him were fewer, but they lingered in your mind.

Elijah Mikaelson. The name alone made your pulse quicken.

You knew better than to seek his attention. And yet, you couldn't stop yourself from wondering. What was he like beneath his noble composure? What thoughts occupied his mind as he listened to the symphonies, or perused the stacks of the castle library? Was his heart truly as cold and hard as the rumors suggested?

A royal feast had been organized in honor of the Mikaelson family, a grand display of wealth and power that you suspected was meant to impress the siblings. The entire court had been invited, including yourself and your husband, whose eyes were constantly darting between the different noblemen, as though seeking an opening for conversation. You knew he had plans to corner Lord Elijah and attempt to curry his favor.

You were already growing weary of his scheming.

The music drifted throughout the great hall, a delicate blend of lutes and drums that you could barely hear over the din of chatter. Your husband had left your side, and you watched as he approached a group of young lords, joining their conversation with the usual charm and flattery.

You sighed. How you despised these affairs. Nothing of substance ever came from the empty conversations, the meaningless platitudes, the frivolous displays. All around you, people were dancing and laughing and drinking, while you stood in the shadows, a hollow ache settling in your chest..

It was in this moment of despair, when you felt most alone, that you noticed him. Lord Elijah was standing beside the great oak doors, his long hair pulled back from his face, the faintest hint of stubble shading his sharp jaw. He was dressed in a black doublet and pants, the silver embroidery catching the light as he moved. His expression was placid, almost unreadable, his dark eyes focused on something across the hall.

When you followed his gaze, you saw he was watching his brother, Niklaus, as the blond lord conversed with a young lady. There was a strange tension in the air, one that was almost palpable. You couldn't be sure, but you sensed Lord Elijah's disapproval of his brother's behavior.

As if sensing your attention, Elijah's eyes shifted, and he turned his gaze to you. His expression was difficult to read, his eyes dark and deep, and for a moment, you thought you saw something there, a glimpse of the man behind the facade.

A flush rose to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, looking away, heart racing. You had not expected to be caught staring. You cursed yourself for your foolishness.

When you dared a glance back at Elijah, he was gone. You scanned the hall, searching for him, but there was no sign of him among the throng of people. He had disappeared as quickly and as quietly as he'd arrived.

You let out a breath, feeling strangely disappointed, and then headed towards the table, where the wine was flowing freely. If you were going to survive this night, you would need to numb yourself with drink.

You poured yourself a cup of wine, the dark liquid sloshing over the rim, and took a sip. The sweet taste washed over your tongue, and you closed your eyes, savoring the sensation. You had a feeling it would be a long night.

"It's not that good," a sweet voice teased from behind you.

You spun around, nearly spilling your drink, and came face-to-face with Lady Rebekah. She looked lovely in a soft blue gown, her fair skin glowing in the candlelight, her golden hair cascading down her shoulders and her eyes sparking with mischief.

"Forgive me," you said, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt.

She took the cup out of your hand and tasted the wine, her lips twisting with disgust. “Just dreadful.”

You smiled despite yourself, charmed by her candor. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you." Her words were bold and direct, and you had the sense she was used to getting her way.

"Me?"

She nodded. "Your husband told me you're an artist. I wanted to see your work."

"You have an interest in art?" You were surprised. Most ladies of the court had no such inclinations.

"Of course," she said. "Everyone else is obsessed with the latest fashions and gossip, but I prefer to occupy my mind with more meaningful things."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with her, and your heart warmed towards her. It was lonely being a woman at court, and it was refreshing to have someone understand the need for more than just the petty concerns of the nobility.

"I'd be happy to show you my paintings," you said, and the smile she gave you made your stomach do a little flip.

"Excellent." She tucked her arm into yours, pulling you close, and began to lead you out of the great hall. "Let's go, before anyone else decides they need our attention."

You laughed, feeling light and free, as she pulled you down the corridor, the two of you giggling like girls at their first festival.

"Rebekah," a stern voice cut through the laughter.

You froze, heart pounding. The voice belonged to none other than Lord Elijah.

Rebekah's smile fell, and she turned, pulling you along with her. "Yes, brother?"

Elijah's eyes landed on you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. He was even more handsome up close, his features strong and striking. "Where are you off to?"

"To look at some paintings that my lovely companion has made," Rebekah said, her arm still looped around yours.

"That sounds delightful," he said, his tone even. "I'd like to join you."

Rebekah pouted, a silent conversation passing between the siblings.

"Please," he added, softening his words.

You weren't sure what was happening, but it seemed the two of them were having a private discussion, and you were only getting fragments of it.

Rebekah let out a dramatic sigh. "Very well, brother."

She led you down the corridor, Elijah following behind. You tried to ignore his presence, but the sound of his footsteps was like a drumbeat in your mind, a constant reminder that he was near.

You stored your work in a small chamber adjacent to your rooms. There was a single chair and a narrow window that looked out onto the courtyard.

"I come here to sketch," you said, by way of explanation. "It's peaceful."

Rebekah glanced around the room, taking in the canvases and the brushes, the jars of paint and the wooden easel. She seemed bored by it, which disappointed you, but Elijah looked curious, his gaze sweeping over the room.

"You are quite talented, a true artist," he said.

"It's a hobby," you replied, shrugging.

"No," he said, his eyes finding yours. "An artist is an artist, whether it's their sole occupation or simply a pastime. It doesn't diminish the passion and dedication."

"Such a flatterer," Rebekah quipped, a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

Elijah ignored her, his gaze still fixed on you. "May I see more of your work?"

You nodded, unable to find your voice. There was something about his attention that made your stomach flutter, and you had the sudden urge to please him.

You pulled out a sketchbook and handed it to him. He opened it and began to leaf through the pages, his eyes scanning the drawings. You tried not to watch his reaction, but it was impossible not to notice the small smile that tugged at his lips.

"These are lovely," he said, and the sincerity in his voice made you blush. "You capture nature in such a unique way."

"Thank you," you said, and he closed the book, handing it back to you.

"Perhaps you'll paint a portrait of me," Rebekah suggested.

You shook your head, the suggestion startling you. "I'm not very good with portraits. People are difficult to capture."

"Nonsense," she replied. "If my brother can see the beauty in your work, then surely you can capture my own."

"Rebekah..." Elijah's voice was a warning, and you had the sense there was more to this conversation than you realized.

She turned to him, a defiant look on her face. "What? I wish for a portrait. Is that so wrong?"

"Not at all," he replied, his tone measured. "But perhaps now is not the best time."

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "Are you really going to spoil this for me? While Kol and Niklaus drink from every-"

"Enough," he cut her off.

She let out a frustrated sigh and stormed out of the room.

You stood there awkwardly, not sure what had just happened.

"My apologies," Elijah said. "Rebekah can be... a bit much at times."

"It's fine," you said, but the tension in the air was palpable.

He turned to leave, but then stopped, his hand resting on the door frame. "Be careful with her," he said, his voice softening. "Rebekah can be very charming, and she doesn't always think about the consequences of her actions."

"I'll keep that in mind," you said, not entirely sure what he meant.

He paused for a moment, and then met your gaze, his eyes dark and intense. "I look forward to seeing more of your work."

With that, he left, the door closing behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

What a strange family.

Rebekah returned the next day, her demeanor much calmer. She came to visit you in the morning, before the court was abuzz with activity. You were seated in the main room of your chambers, sketching as your husband droned on about something unimportant. You could barely hear his words over the scratching of your quill on the parchment.

As soon as Rebekah entered the room, her presence commanded attention, and your husband immediately stopped speaking.

“Lady Rebekah,” he said, quickly rising to his feet.

“Forgive me,” she said, her words dripping with insincerity. “I did not mean to interrupt.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, smiling. “You are always welcome here.”

“Thank you,” she said, returning his smile before turning her attention to you. “I was hoping we might continue our conversation from last night.”

Your husband looked from you to her, clearly puzzled. He had been desperate to gain favor with any of the Mikaelsons, and the fact that she had sought you out was both unexpected and unnerving to him.

“Of course,” you said, rising from your chair. “You wished for a portrait.”

Your husband scoffed. He had never approved of your artistic pursuits and often complained about how much time they occupied.

“Actually, I was thinking a family portrait,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Wouldn’t that be splendid?”

“Absolutely,” your husband replied, eager to seize any opportunity to curry favor. “She would be honored.”

“Wonderful,” she said, her smile broadening. “I shall send someone to fetch you later.”

With that, she turned and left, leaving the two of you alone once more. Your husband was practically giddy, his excitement over the prospect of gaining favor with the Mikaelsons clearly evident. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of irritation, as though your work was only valued for its potential to impress the nobility.

“I don’t know how you managed it, dear wife, but you’ve secured us a place at their table,” he said, practically beaming.

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. The prospect of painting the family was daunting, but it would make your husband happy, and perhaps bring him one step closer to his dream of earning a title.

"Of course," you said, forcing a smile.

You didn't share his enthusiasm. In truth, the thought of spending any amount of time with the Mikaelsons made you uneasy, but you really couldn't say why. There was just something about them that told you to run far away.

Elijah had secured a large chamber with ample light, the morning sun streaming in through the tall, arched windows. The Mikaelson family was gathered around a heavy oaken table, their expressions ranging from bored to mildly irritated. Rebekah was the only one who appeared genuinely enthusiastic, her radiant smile lighting her face as she posed for the portrait.

"Is this really necessary?" Kol complained.

"Yes," Elijah replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Kol, go sit next to Niklaus, and stop complaining," Rebekah chided.

Kol grumbled, but did as he was told, taking his place beside his brother.

You felt a nervous tremor in your hands as you adjusted your easel and arranged your pigments, your hands shaking slightly. You could feel their eyes on you, the weight of their attention making the task feel impossible.

Niklaus was particularly unsettling, his eyes tracking your movements, a slight smile playing on his lips. You couldn't read his expression, but something about it made you uneasy.

“I hear you paint landscapes,” he remarked, his tone laced with condescension.

“I do,” you replied, doing your best to sound composed.

“Interesting,” he mused, his words slow and deliberate. “What makes you think you are qualified to paint my family’s portrait?”

“I suppose I’m not,” you admitted, unable to hide the tremor in your voice.

“Ignore him,” Rebekah interjected sharply, shooting her brother a withering look. “He only grows competitive when the subject of art is raised. He acts as though he has some divine monopoly over the matter.”

“That is not true,” Niklaus retorted, though his tone lacked conviction.

“So you are a painter as well?” you asked Niklaus, striving to keep the conversation light.

“Among other things,” he replied, the faintest trace of a smile playing on his lips.

“Like what?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Many things,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “But mostly, I enjoy capturing the human form.”

The innuendo was not lost on you, and you felt your cheeks flush. Kol chuckled softly, clearly amused by his brother’s remarks.

“Enough, Niklaus,” Elijah interjected, his tone sharp and unyielding.

“Yes, yes,” Niklaus replied, his tone bored but his expression still mischievous.

You turned your focus back to the painting and began sketching the outline, but the arrangement of the siblings felt awkward. The positioning of their bodies only seemed to emphasize the tension in the room.

“How is this?” Rebekah asked, adjusting her posture gracefully.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, struggling to find the right words.

“You could paint me nude,” Niklaus offered, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “That would certainly liven things up a bit.”

Elijah smacked the back of Niklaus’s head with a swift hand, and the room erupted in laughter.

“Enough,” Elijah commanded again, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

Despite your unease, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in by the Mikaelsons’ strange energy. There was something magnetic about their banter, even if it was overwhelming.

You stood and began repositioning Kol and Niklaus, each of them watching your efforts with mild amusement.

“Must I hold still?” Kol teased, feigning irritation.

“Yes,” you replied, your patience already wearing thin with his antics.

“How long will this take?” he complained, shifting in his seat.

“I’ll make sure to paint you first,” you promised, trying to keep your composure despite his constant interruptions.

“Excellent,” he said, grinning as though you had done him a great favor.

Rebekah was easy to pose, her natural grace evident in the way she carried herself. When you approached Elijah, however, your heart quickened, the thought of touching him sending a rush of heat through your body.

“Could you turn towards the light?” you asked, striving to keep your voice steady.

“Certainly,” he replied, shifting his position with an elegance that matched his demeanor.

You reached out to adjust his arm, your fingertips brushing against the firm muscle beneath his finely tailored doublet. You swallowed hard, determined to ignore the way his presence unsettled you.

“Is this acceptable?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

“Yes,” you said quickly, stepping back to regain your composure.

He gave you a knowing smile, as though he could read the thoughts you were struggling to suppress.

As the session wore on, you found yourself more at ease among the siblings. They were an odd bunch, much like the other ridiculously wealthy nobles you had encountered, but with a surprising playfulness that set them apart. Their teasing and laughter filled the chamber, and by the time the sun began to dip in the sky, you realized you were enjoying their company.

“How many more sessions will there be?” Kol asked, stretching his arms above his head like a restless squire.

“As many as it takes,” Elijah replied, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“Only one more for Kol and Niklaus,” you said, carefully packing away your supplies.

“Thank goodness,” Kol quipped, his grin as mischievous as ever.

You smiled, charmed by his lightheartedness. Despite their eccentricities, the Mikaelsons were not as imposing as you had first feared. Perhaps, given time, you might even consider them friends.

“Shall we continue tomorrow?” Elijah asked, his tone both calm and assured.

You nodded, a strange thrill coursing through you at the thought of another day in their company.

With that, the siblings departed, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Your emotions were conflicted, and the sensation was foreign to you. You were used to feeling numb, resigned to your fate as a lonely wife, but the Mikaelsons had sparked a flame within you, a spark of curiosity and interest that you hadn't felt in years.

You let out a sigh and began tidying up the chamber. Your life was full of rules and obligations, but there was something about the Mikaelsons that made you feel like a bird longing for the sky. You couldn't explain it, and perhaps you never would, but the pull was undeniable.

You took a long walk before returning to your chambers and your husband greeted you, brimming with excitement.

“Lord Elijah has invited us to a private supper next week,” he announced, his voice filled with pride.

“A private supper?” You were surprised. Elijah had been polite but distant, and you hadn’t expected him to show such a level of interest.

“Yes,” he replied, practically giddy. “He is apparently eager to hear my thoughts on the kingdom’s trade agreements.”

You weren’t entirely shocked. Your husband had managed to carve out a name for himself among merchants and lesser nobility, though his opinions were rarely sought after by those of Elijah’s rank.

“That is wonderful,” you said, forcing a smile.

“Indeed,” he replied with a flourish. “We shall need to procure new attire.”

You frowned, knowing this would cost dearly. Your husband’s ambitions had already drained much of the household’s coffers, and yet another expense seemed likely to drive you further into debt.

“Whatever you think best,” you said, unwilling to provoke an argument.

He leaned down and kissed your cheek, his mustache brushing against your skin and making you suppress a cringe.

“It’s going to be a good year,” he declared, patting your arm with confidence. “I can feel it.”

You smiled and nodded, trying to match his enthusiasm, though the truth was, you longed for something of your own.

One thing that didn't have to be tainted by his aspirations.

The next few days were a blur as you worked to complete the portrait before the supper. The siblings had grown accustomed to sitting for the painting, and you managed to finish Kol and Niklaus without much difficulty.

Rebekah was particular, but you understood her desire to present herself at her best. You took care to subtly enhance her already striking features, ensuring she seemed alive on the canvas.

“You are all done, Rebekah,” you said, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the finished product.

She rose gracefully from the chair and approached the painting to inspect it. She looked radiant, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders, her blue eyes glinting with vitality.

“It’s perfect,” she declared, turning to smile at you. “All that remains now is dear Elijah.”

A flush rose to your cheeks at the mention of his name. Elijah was the last to be painted, and the thought of being alone with him was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

He smiled then, his gaze locking with yours, and for a moment, it felt as if he could see straight into your soul, discerning every unspoken emotion swirling within you.

Rebekah kissed your cheek in farewell, her touch light and affectionate, before sweeping out of the room.

Now, only Elijah remained.

You had already sketched his outline, and all that was left was to refine the details. As you studied his face, your nerves fluttered anew. The faint creases of his smile, the dark stubble along his sharp jaw. He was so handsome that it almost hurt to look at him.

Picking up a brush, you dipped it into the paint and began the final stage of the portrait. His eyes followed your movements, though he remained silent, the quiet stretching between you.

“Have you always enjoyed art?” he asked suddenly, his deep voice breaking the stillness.

You startled slightly but recovered quickly. “I suppose so,” you replied, keeping your focus on the canvas. “Since I was a child, I’ve always been fascinated by color and light.”

“An admirable quality,” he said warmly.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your cheeks warming under his praise.

His eyes lingered on you, and you felt your pulse quicken beneath his steady gaze.

“Your husband has been quite vocal about his ambitions,” he remarked, and your heart sank.

You had hoped the task at hand would steer the conversation elsewhere, but it seemed your husband’s reputation for greed had preceded him.

“Yes,” you replied softly, unsure how best to answer.

“He seeks a title,” Elijah said, his tone calm and matter-of-fact.

“I’m aware,” you replied, unable to mask the bitterness that crept into your voice.

“You don’t seem enthused by the prospect,” he observed, his sharp eyes studying you.

“His ambitions are his own,” you said, deflecting as you focused your attention on the canvas.

“And what of your ambitions?” he asked, his words soft but pointed. You felt the air between you shift, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“What do you mean?” you asked cautiously, glancing at him.

“I mean, what would make you happy? Is a title something you desire?”

You paused, his question taking root in your mind. The truth was, you hadn’t often considered what might make you happy. Your happiness had never been a priority, least of all to your husband.

“Are you married, Lord Mikaelson?” you asked, changing the subject as you carefully added the dark wisps of his eyelashes to the portrait.

“It’s Elijah,” he corrected gently, his eyes meeting yours. “And no, I am not married.”

“Well… marriage is about compromise,” you said, your tone measured. “My duty is to support my husband and help him achieve his goals.”

“But what of your own needs and desires?” he pressed, his gaze unwavering. The question caught you off guard.

“I am fortunate enough to have a hobby that satisfies some of those,” you replied, though the words felt inadequate, leaving you feeling unexpectedly exposed.

He was silent for a moment, and you thought the conversation had ended, but then he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You deserve far more than that.”

Your breath caught, and your gaze lifted to meet his. His words struck deeply, piercing through the layers of propriety and obligation that had shaped your life.

“I’m sure your future wife will be a fortunate woman,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with quiet amusement. “I doubt that very much.”

You didn’t know how to respond. The sudden intimacy between you was overwhelming, and you quickly turned your attention back to the canvas, focusing intently on the portrait to steady yourself.

But Elijah continued to ask you questions... questions no one had ever bothered to ask. He seemed genuinely interested in your thoughts and feelings, and you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn’t expected. You spoke of your childhood, your dreams, your fears, and he listened, his attention unwavering.

“And what of you?” you asked, hoping to shift the focus away from yourself. “It must be difficult, being the eldest brother.”

“It can be,” he admitted, his smile fading into something more introspective. “My brothers can be… boisterous at times.”

“Rebekah mentioned that,” you said lightly, hoping to ease the mood.

“She’s the wildest of us all,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “But she has a good heart.”

“I can see that,” you said, smiling.

He paused, his expression thoughtful, as though weighing his next words. “It’s rare for my family to enjoy the company of someone outside our circle,” he said, his gaze meeting yours. “Your friendship is a gift.”

A flutter stirred in your chest at his words, which touched something deep within you. You hadn’t realized how lonely you had been until you spent time with the Mikaelsons, who had brought a warmth into your life that had long been absent.

“I am honored to be considered a friend,” you said sincerely, and his smile softened in response.

“May I see?” he asked, gesturing toward the portrait.

“Of course,” you said, stepping aside.

He moved closer to the painting, his gaze traveling across the canvas. His eyes widened slightly, and you caught the glimmer of admiration in his expression.

“You have captured us all so perfectly,” he said, the sincerity in his tone sending a rush of warmth through you.

“Thank you,” you replied, unable to hide the pride in your voice.

“Rebekah was right,” he said, turning back to you. “You are an artist.”

You smiled, and he stepped closer, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“I shall treasure this painting,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “And, of course, ensure you are handsomely rewarded for it.”

“It’s a gift,” you said softly, wanting him to understand just how much this meant to you.

“Nonsense. I cannot accept a gift of such value,” he replied, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Perhaps we could reach a compromise.”

“What did you have in mind?” you asked, curiosity stirring within you.

“I will grant the title your husband so desperately seeks,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You could only stare at him, his offer leaving you stunned. It was the last thing you had expected, and for a moment, you wondered if he was jesting.

“But in return, I would ask for one more thing,” he continued, his eyes holding yours with unwavering intensity.

“And what is that?” you asked, your breath catching.

He reached for your hand, his touch warm and startlingly intimate. “A truth.”

“A truth?” you repeated, your confusion evident.

“Yes,” he said, his tone as soft as the flicker of a candle’s flame. “Tell me... do you feel the same way about me as I do about you?”

Your eyes locked with his, and your heart raced as if caught in a dream. The answer came easily, as if it had always been waiting to be spoken.

“Yes.”

His lips curved into a smile as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your palm.

“You are beautiful, like one of your paintings,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours. “I find myself quite envious of your husband, who shares your bed each night.”

You had been drawn to him from the start, and now, as he stood before you, you felt an undeniable connection. He was kind, charming, and devastatingly handsome, and for a moment, you wondered if perhaps you had found someone who could understand you, someone who could see past the walls you had built around your heart.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. A spark of heat coursed through your body, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to dissolve into nothingness.

The proper thing would have been to pull away, to remind him of your vows and the sanctity of your marriage. But instead, you returned the kiss, the passion igniting within you like a forbidden flame.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and as the kiss deepened, you knew you were lost. Your heart was his for the taking, and nothing else seemed to matter.

Gently, he guided you back until you felt the sturdy surface of the table against your hips. Your fingers threaded through his hair, drawing him closer, and he let out a low moan that sent a fiery thrill through your veins.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his hands stilling on your hips, though his voice carried a tremor of restraint.

"No," you breathed, the word barely audible.

He grinned and lifted you onto the table, his mouth crashing back against yours. He lifted your skirts, his fingers brushing against your bare thighs, and you felt a thrill of pleasure run through you.

Your hands sought the laces of his doublet, fumbling as you tried to feel the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric. You couldn't get enough of him, his taste, his scent, the feel of his body pressed against yours.

"So lovely," he whispered, his hands moving up your thighs, his fingers finding their mark.

A gasp escaped your lips as your body responded to his touch, heat building within you. His grin was both knowing and triumphant as he began a slow, torturous rhythm that left you breathless, each stroke teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge.

He pressed kisses along your jawline, his lips trailing a molten path down the curve of your neck. Your body arched against him instinctively, your hips moving in time with his hand.

Then he knelt before you, his head dipping beneath your skirts, and you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Elijah, what are you-” The question died on your lips as his tongue found a place of exquisite sensitivity, drawing a low moan from you.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, and your toes curled as waves of pleasure rippled through you. You had never imagined that a man could kiss you there, and the feel of his hot, wet tongue was utterly exquisite.

His tongue danced across your most sensitive core, the sensation unlike anything you had ever known. The pleasure built steadily, a white-hot heat coiling low in your belly, threatening to consume you.

Your husband had never touched you like this, had never made you feel this alive. Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the moment, your moans growing louder as the ecstasy surged within you.

Your fingers wove into his hair, tugging him closer, and he groaned against you, the vibration sending a shudder through your body. The release was powerful, leaving you trembling in its wake.

He emerged from beneath your skirts, his lips glistening with evidence of his devotion, a satisfied grin lighting his face. Your cheeks burned, feeling exposed, and yet, utterly content.

He kissed you again, his lips warm and insistent, and you tasted yourself there. Instead of repulsion, it only stoked the fire within you, the desire flaring anew.

“If you were my wife, I would cherish you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You froze, his words washing over you, leaving your mind spinning. Was he serious? Could this truly be happening?

“I would love you,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “Every day.”

“Elijah,” you whispered, his name catching in your throat. Your hand rose to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart ache.

He was offering you everything you had ever dreamed of. It was all too much, too fast. You knew the cost of this moment. The ruin it would bring to your marriage, your reputation, and the life you had known. But as you looked into Elijah’s eyes, you saw the glimmer of something more, something wonderful. It was terrifying to believe in.

“We cannot,” you said at last, your voice trembling.

His smile faltered, and a shadow passed over his expression, leaving it guarded.

“I understand,” he said quietly, though the disappointment in his eyes was unmistakable.

“It’s not what I want,” you added quickly, desperate for him to know the truth.

“But it is what must be,” he replied, his tone heavy with resignation.

You kissed him once more, the touch lingering as if to hold onto the moment just a little longer, before pulling away.

He helped you down from the table, his hands steady as your skirts fell back into place. You straightened the fabric with trembling fingers, the weight of what had transpired pressing upon you.

He sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. “I will see you at the supper,” he said, his voice carrying a sadness that pierced your heart.

“Until then,” you replied softly, fighting the desperate urge to stay.

He took your hand, pressing one last kiss to the back of it, the gesture tender and filled with unspoken meaning. Then he bid you farewell and turned to go, leaving the chamber.

You watched him leave, your chest tight with conflicting emotions. You knew you had made a mistake, one that could ruin you both, and yet, as you recalled the way he had held you, you could not bring yourself to regret it.

The night of the supper arrived, and you felt a flutter of nerves. It would be the first time you had seen Elijah since your encounter in the studio, and you knew that your feelings would be impossible to hide.

As your carriage pulled up to the Mikaelson manor, its grand stone façade illuminated by the glow of torches, you could barely contain your racing thoughts.

Stepping out, you gazed up at the magnificent hall, its imposing architecture a testament to the wealth and influence of the Mikaelson family. Your husband, beside you, was brimming with excitement, his greatest ambition on the verge of realization. You, however, felt only apprehension.

He spoke animatedly with some of the other guests, his arm draped loosely around your waist, using you as an ornament to enhance his image.

“Ah, Lord Elijah!” your husband called out, his voice cheerful. “Just the man I wished to see.”

Elijah approached, dressed in a formal white doublet, composed and handsome as ever. His dark eyes flicked over you, lingering for a moment, and you felt a blush creep up your neck.

“What a splendid home,” your husband remarked, oblivious to the tension in the air. “It must require great effort to maintain a residence of this size.”

Elijah smirked, though his gaze was still drawn to you. “It does,” he replied smoothly, his words laced with an undertone only you could catch, “but I find the cost well worth the investment.”

Your husband launched into a lengthy discourse on his vision for the kingdom’s agricultural policies, extolling the opportunities for a new golden age and hinting at Elijah’s potential involvement. Elijah nodded politely, offering measured responses, but his focus never truly left you, his dark eyes drinking you in.

“Your wife is an astounding artist; the portrait she painted of my family was truly breathtaking,” Elijah said, his dark eyes meeting yours and holding them.

“Oh yes, she has many talents,” your husband replied dismissively, his tone devoid of the admiration Elijah's carried.

“We shall present it to the court this evening after the final course,” Elijah announced smoothly.

“We shall?” you blurted out, unable to hide your surprise.

“Of course,” Elijah said with a grin, his expression full of delight. “It is far too beautiful not to share.”

You blushed, the compliment sending a rush of heat through you. Your husband didn't value your work, not the way Elijah did. It was a heady sensation, knowing that someone thought so highly of you.

"Well, isn't it out darling artist," Kol said as he approached you. "My sister is absolutely mad about the portrait."

Your husband’s posture stiffened as he noticed how at ease the Mikaelsons were with you.

“Yes, well, my wife is skilled in her pursuits,” he said, his smile tight and uncomfortable.

Elijah continued speaking with you, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he encouraged you to share your thoughts. The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself opening up in a way that felt both liberating and dangerous. Elijah seemed genuinely engaged, his attention unwavering, which only made your husband’s irritation more apparent.

Thankfully, Elijah soon excused himself, moving to greet other lords and ladies.

“I did not realize you were such a popular figure among the court,” your husband said sharply, his displeasure evident in his clipped tone.

You didn't know what to say, the question caught you off-guard. Your husband hated being upstaged, and by his own wife? Such a thing could not be borne.

“They seem to enjoy my work,” you replied cautiously.

“Are you blushing?” he accused, his voice low and edged with anger.

You avoided his gaze, fiddling with the clasp of your necklace instead.

“You cannot expect me to believe they are so enamored with you simply because of your art,” he pressed, his mustache twitching as his frustration grew.

"What should they be taken with? Your endless monologues about the economy?" You asked, losing patience with his jealousy.

He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Do not let it go to your head. I'm the one who gives you that platform, without me, you'd be nothing," he spat.

“Nothing?” you scoffed, your voice sharper than you intended. “I could say the same about you. How many times have your dealings fallen through? How many empty promises have you made and broken?”

Your husband’s face turned an alarming shade of red, his knuckles tightening until they turned white. He leaned in, his eyes blazing with anger.

“You are my wife,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Never forget your place.”

He stormed off, his fury radiating in every step. You felt a pang of guilt, but it was overshadowed by an unexpected surge of relief. For the first time in years, you had stood up for yourself, and it felt strangely wonderful.

Throughout the supper, the animosity from your husband was palpable. His simmering rage showed in his flushed cheeks and clenched jaw. The food was exquisite, but the atmosphere at your table was heavy with tension.

Elijah was seated beside you, and the placement only deepened your husband’s ire.

Kol, as ever, was holding court with his wild tales, Rebekah and Klaus laughing at his expense. Even Elijah allowed himself a rare smile, and you couldn’t help but giggle, his sister’s joy infectious.

Your husband straightened in his chair, preening like a peacock, desperate to reclaim attention. He launched into a self-aggrandizing tale about how he had single handedly financed the next great expansion of the local market. His gestures were large and theatrical, but his words fell flat. Rebekah’s eyes glazed over in boredom, and she stifled a yawn, twirling her fork idly between her fingers.

Kol, undeterred, followed with a ridiculous story of the time he had escaped an angry mob by rowing a boat down the river, only to be pursued by a flock of starlings. The table erupted into laughter, the sound spilling out into the hall.

You were enjoying yourself thoroughly when you felt a warm hand on your knee. Startled, you glanced at Elijah, whose gaze was steady and knowing. His smile was suggestive, and he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear.

“Once the painting is revealed, can you slip away...go outside?” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

You nodded, your cheeks warm. Elijah sat back, his grin widening. You knew what was coming, the chance to be alone with him. It was forbidden, and yet, you couldn't deny how much you wanted it.

As the final course was cleared away, Elijah signaled for a footman to unveil your canvas. The gathered lords and ladies reacted with gasps of admiration and murmurs of approval.

Your husband’s displeasure was evident, his lips pressed into a thin line as he observed the attention your painting commanded. His frustration simmered beneath the surface, his irritation growing with each word of praise.

As the hall began to empty, you turned to your husband, murmuring that you needed fresh air. He barely acknowledged your words, too preoccupied with engaging another lord in animated conversation.

You stepped out into the cool night, the sky above alive with stars. The full moon cast a silvery glow over the gardens, illuminating the landscape in an otherworldly light. You paused, momentarily struck by the serene beauty around you.

Faint strains of music and laughter drifted from the ballroom, mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves. As you approached the rose garden, you felt the warmth of a hand resting lightly on your back.

“I love the scent of roses,” Elijah said quietly.

“They’re beautiful,” you replied, your gaze fixed on him, transfixed by his presence.

“They are,” he agreed, though his eyes never left yours.

“Are there any here you favor?” you asked, curious.

“This one,” he said softly, plucking a dark red rose from a nearby bush.

He presented the flower to you with a subtle flourish, its delicate fragrance drifting upward to greet you.

“It’s exquisite,” you breathed, running your fingers over the velvety petals.

Elijah stepped closer, his hands gently cradling your face as his dark eyes searched yours. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss.

“You’re even more beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet reverence. Your heart skipped, the words igniting a warmth deep within you.

His lips claimed yours once more, the kiss deepening as you surrendered to the moment. The rose slipped from your fingers, forgotten, as your hands found their way into his hair, drawing him closer.

His hands roamed over your curves, his touch igniting a fire that coursed through you. You could hardly believe this was real. That he was here, kissing you, holding you. It all felt like a dream, one you never wished to wake from.

He lifted you onto a stone bench, his hands unlacing the front of your dress. You knew this was forbidden, but you no longer cared. You wanted him, and in this moment, the risk felt worth taking.

Your gown slipped, pooling around your waist and revealing the soft lines of your bodice. Elijah leaned in, his lips trailing reverently across the exposed skin, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from you.

As he captured your lips in a kiss once more, his hands cupping your breasts, you moaned, a wave of desire flooding your core. You reached down to unfasten the laces of his breeches, your need growing with every passing moment.

He slipped a hand between your legs, finding that sensitive spot of pleasure, and you let out a gasp. Your fingers fumbled as you worked the laces loose, a flutter of nervous anticipation running through you.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion. "If you're sure-"

"I want this," you cut him off. "I want you."

His fingers teased at your entrance, gently dipping into you, before withdrawing. He repeated this a few more times, before finally sliding a single finger inside of you. You let out a soft moan as he curled his finger inside you, before slowly withdrawing it again. He added a second finger, slowly pumping them in and out of you as you gripped his arm.

"I have a plan," he whispered to you, leaning closer to you as he continued to slowly move his fingers in and out of you. "When the sun rises, you are going to leave with me, and we are going to get as far away from this court as we can. Do you understand?"

You looked into his eyes, your breath catching at the intensity of his gaze. His words lingered between you, heavy with promise and risk. The court, your husband, the consequences. All of it seemed so distant compared to the man before you.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both fear and excitement. “I understand.”

Elijah’s lips found yours again, the kiss deeper this time, as though sealing the vow you had just made. His fingers continued their deliberate rhythm, drawing gasps from your lips as your body arched into his touch.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with possessive tenderness. “And I’ll keep you safe.”

His words could have terrified you, but instead, they wrapped around your heart like armor, shielding you from the unknown future that awaited.

Your hands slipped into his breeches, wrapping around his length. His hips bucked instinctively against your palm, a low groan escaping his lips as his head tilted back in pleasure.

His reaction sent a thrill through you, your core throbbing with need. You began to stroke him, your fingers sliding along his length, feeling him grow harder beneath your touch. His grip on you tightened, his breath hot against your neck as he struggled to maintain his restraint.

You knew how dangerous it would be if someone caught you like this, but your desire to be with him, to have him in any way you could, outweighed any fear of discovery.

The risk only served to heighten the pleasure, your arousal pooling at the apex of your thighs. You sat up on your knees and he helped guide himself into your warmth, the two of you both gasping as your bodies joined at last.

The feel of his hardness inside of you was exquisite, filling you in a way you hadn't expected. His hands moved to your hips, holding you steady as he began a steady rhythm.

The sound of his labored breaths mixed with your own soft gasps and moans as the two of you found a familiar rhythm, moving as one. You clung to him, your arms wrapped around his neck, letting him guide your hips up and down in the most delicious of ways.

Your husband was always quick, in and out, and gone before you could catch your breath, but Elijah took his time, savoring the feeling of being buried deep inside you, drawing out every gasp and whimper, making sure you both reached the peak together.

As the two of you came together, his warm seed spilling inside of you, the sound of his name on your lips seemed to echo across the stillness of the night. He kissed you passionately, his lips swallowing every last whimper, before breaking the kiss to press soft kisses down your neck and along your collarbone, making sure to leave no part of your body untouched.

You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heart thundering against your ear, listening to the soothing sound of his breath as it began to even out.

The sound of distant voices coming towards you broke the spell of the moment, and you both began to hurriedly redress. He helped you fix the bodice of your dress and tuck your skirts in order to keep up appearances. The two of you shared a nervous glance, a flicker of uncertainty flashing between you, as the voices drew nearer.

Then he grabbed your hand and tugged you deeper into the garden, the two of you hiding among the trees and shrubbery, pressed tightly together in an effort not to be discovered.

As the sound of the voices passed by, your nerves seemed to settle and a playful giggle slipped out of your lips. The look in his eyes when they met yours again was intense, and before you knew what was happening he was kissing you once more, the warmth of his mouth moving over yours, slow and passionate.

It was in that moment that a shocked gasp broke through the stillness of the garden. The two of you sprang apart, whirling to face whoever had discovered you.

Your husband stood there, his face contorted in horror and fury. You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, but no words came out.

His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, but before he could draw it, Elijah stepped forward, his hand pressing firmly against your husband’s chest.

“Please, sir,” Elijah said, his voice a commanding force that could have made the devil himself tremble. “Do not act in haste.”

Your husband froze, his hand falling still as he stared at Elijah’s outstretched arm in disbelief.

“How dare you,” your husband hissed, his teeth clenched, his rage barely contained.

Elijah removed his hand and stood tall, his presence radiating a quiet menace. “I know what it is you truly desire,” he said, gesturing toward you with a slight tilt of his head. “And it is not her.”

Your husband’s expression twisted into one of offense, but it quickly faded into something darker as understanding dawned.

“How much?” he asked bitterly, his tone cold and calculating.

Elijah smiled, but it was not a kind smile. It was sharp, predatory, a smile that promised victory. “Your wife, in exchange for that title you’ve sought so desperately. It seems a fair trade.”

Your husband was many things. A selfish, ladder-climbing opportunist. But even he had a shred of pride. Elijah’s offer was too much for him to bear.

“My lord, this is a dishonorable proposal,” your husband said, his voice trembling with indignation.

“No more dishonorable than your ambition,” Elijah retorted smoothly, his gaze unwavering.

Elijah turned to you then, his eyes searching yours. In that moment, you gave him a small nod, your love for him shining through, along with your silent plea for the freedom he had promised.

“You are a despicable man,” your husband spat, his voice filled with venom. “The king shall hear of this. I swear, I will see you both hanged.”

Elijah chuckled softly, a sound that sent a chill down your spine. Stepping closer, he grasped your husband’s face, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Do not make threats you cannot keep,” he murmured, his voice a deadly caress.

Your husband’s fury faltered as Elijah’s dark gaze bore into him, his expression shifting to confusion, then calm. His breathing slowed, his body slackening as if under a spell.

“You no longer have a wife,” Elijah said, his voice low and hypnotic. “Any trace of her in your mind is like dust on the wind. You shall never seek her again.”

Your husband’s voice turned hollow, devoid of emotion. “I no longer have a wife. I shall never seek her.”

“And when you return to court, you shall speak of her as if she has passed on. Do you understand?” Elijah continued.

“I shall act as though my wife is no more,” your husband repeated in that strange monotone.

Satisfied, Elijah released him, watching as he stumbled away from the garden in a dazed, trance-like state. The shadows of the manor swallowed him whole, leaving the two of you alone once more.

Elijah turned back to you, his hands gentle as they cupped your face, brushing away a tear that had escaped down your cheek.

“How?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “How did you do that? It was as if you cast a spell over him.”

A sly grin spread across Elijah’s lips as he leaned in to kiss you softly. “Let us not waste another moment dwelling on such things,” he murmured. “Come away with me, my love.”

“And where shall we go, my lord?” you asked playfully, your heart lighter than it had been in years.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, his eyes sparkling with promise. “The world is ours, my sweet. Where shall we begin?”

[andreal831]

R: Let's not and tell Haley that we did. Then you get to impress the girl and I can go home. You know how hobbles depress me. E: I'm not trying to impress the girl. R: I should bloody hope you are. Why else are we out here? Come on Elijah, you've fallen for her admit it. It may do wonders for the stick that's lodged up your enduringly stoic ass if you did. E: If I admit to you that it's complicated, with that suffice? or are you determined to torment me throughout this endeavor?

Haylijah in every episode -> 1.09 Reigning Pain in New Orleans

[nightingale2004]

Crossover au idea

Alright, now bear with me, everyone.

So... we all know the Black family from Harry Potter and the Mikaelsons from the originals and TVD

So what if they were both actual houses in HOTD and they are related to the targaryen bloodline. Like their ancestors were Targaryens and dragon blood still runs through their veins, but their ancestors married into another house but still ride dragons.

Allow me to set it up for you.

The house of Black. They are similar to how they are in the Harry Potter world. They are a rich house, dragons of course, except the first targaryen who married a Black, accepted their tradition of naming their children after the stars and they value their purity and succession of their bloodline and house. They are allied with house Targaryen, but they are also cousins as well. The Lord Orion black and Lady Walburga Black faced scandal with their oldest son Sirius Black, running off on dragon back nowhere to be seen. Naming their second son Regulus Black as heir to their house with his dragon at his side (this family has Black madness, they are definitely related to the Targaryens)

House Mikaelson. Mikael is definitely a Targaryen (this man has madness to the T) people in his land know him as the madman after he lost his firstborn daughter Freya. Mikael still abused Niklaus who is still a b@stard son and the only one among his siblings that doesnt have a dragon but he does have a wolf (the only gift from his mother) his older brother Finn ran off with a wildling witch (Inspired by a comment), Elijah passed his succession to Niklaus and became his right hand and council. Rebekah became the house delight and married Niklaus's adopted son Marcel. Kol is still a mischievous little $h!t but he studies and knows Valyrian magic and old high Valyrian language and traditions like the back of his hand. He also married Marcel's adopted daughter Divina.

Niklaus is still extreme and scares his family, but after he married his wife Caroline, he has become less aggressive as a leader and brother. He still had Hope from a one night stand with Hayley (she is a stark)

Seriously tho, imagine these two houses and families being related to Rhaenyra distantly and having an alliance with house Targaryen. What role would they play in the story? What team would they be on? What dragons would they have? What would be their dragons names? Who would these houses side with? Team black or Team Green?

Let me know what you guys think

[vicontheinternet]

Elijah still give me the ick from when he kept call marcel boy and refused to use his name. What is this the 1960’s.

[bonniesfamiliar]

Keira Knightley would be a good Fem! Elijah Mikaleson, in my opinion. BTW, I'd use this gif pack:

[allysonkgirl]

@softfairies commissioned Elijah Mikaelson art

[storywriter12]

I can't why does this man look so fucking good. in a suit😩😍

joel goran → suits

[surv1vra]

television part 2

[alwayslcyal]

Josh and Elijah

𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏!

vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

okay i am hardcore haylijah shipper, so also here its hard to see this a ship. but wait, this plotted, it be quite cute. while josh/klaus would be chaotic, josh/elijah would kinda be healthy, and adorable. elijah being a caring soul to josh, and josh teaching him that it's okay to love yourself and do things for yourself and be damned if anyone thinks otherwise. i wouldn't mind a cute little ship between them!! 🥹

also my recast for elijah too!! honestly it's good. and should be something to think about hehe

[starlightandfairies]

Hiii 🫶🏼 I hope you're still up for doing an Elijah request! 🤗 I can't get this man out of my head haha

Soo it would be an idea where they met somewhere in Mystic Falls and immediately felt some bond between them, so it happens that they start falling in love (she's human but knows about vampires) but she's too afraid to get hurt so she also tries not to get too close to Elijah. One night he sees some stranger following her home from the Grill and even starts attacking her, Elijah is immediately there saving her and taking her home with him to treat her wounds (mostly some scratches) and he's just super worried. There she realizes that Elijah would never be the one hurting her and they finally share their feelings with a lot of kissing and cuddles afterwards and he holds her, telling how much she means to him.

Oh I hope this is not too weird at all 🙈❤️

Description: Upon meeting Elijah Mikaelson, the feelings start to come but in fear of being hurt, the reader decides to keep her walls up to protect herself. This changes after Elijah protects her after being attacked.

Warnings: fluff, small angst, physical assault (mild), she/her pronouns, maybe swearing?

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thanks so much for making this request! I can never get sick of Elijah, this man is always on my mind and please feel free to request again if you wish :) I really enjoyed writing this, thank you again :D

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 2,125

First Person's POV

Tonight at the Grill was a ‘live acoustics’ night, some of the performers were good and others were quite frankly not that great. Bonnie, Elena and Caroline were off on the next big adventure for the vampiric save-the-day business and while I knew about all the vampires, witches, werewolves and all that extra fun stuff. Besides Matt, I was the only human in the group and somehow I was pushed aside to be kept ‘safe; despite Matt always being dragged into the whirlpool of drama even if he didn’t want to be. 

“The music is wonderful for the atmosphere tonight, don’t you agree?” That voice would haunt my dreams, haunt my every thought, I couldn’t fathom how gentle and warm a voice could sound. I glanced to the side, shooting a polite smile to the impeccably dressed man and nodded in agreement. 

“I do agree, I feel like I’m in like a cute little romance story, the warm lighting and the music-“ I cut myself short, realising I was babbling to a random stranger who more than likely did not care for my ideas and thoughts. 

“I can see how you would see that.” Oh, gosh- those eyes! That smile! This man would haunt me forever, picture perfect and everything I would want in a man. I continued to share a polite smile with the man, fiddling with the straw in my chocolate milkshake and turned myself slightly to face the man a little better. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you…?” Realising that he was waiting for my name, I placed my drink down and took his hand. 

“Y/N L/N” He softly cupped my hand, shaking it and proceeded to share his name.

“Elijah Mikaelson.” I wish I could’ve hidden my reaction better, my eyes went wide, and my smile flattened for a moment before I quickly made sure to continue to be nice and polite. Elijah carefully rested my head on the bar, took a small sip of whatever his drink was and gazed at me with a quizzical look. 

“You know who I am…” His tone was neither harsh nor hurt, Elijah seemed to have suspected my knowledge of his name and he even seemed curious by the idea of my knowledge. 

“I know of your brother Niklaus… Elena told me about you, I think she might have exaggerated a bit. You don’t seem like the antagonist she kinda painted you out to be. From what I’ve heard, you’re the nicer brother… the noble one and I'm sure first glances can be deceiving but… I don’t know- you don’t seem like a bad man.”  He briefly licked his lips, eyes shooting up to the ceiling and seemed to be contemplating his next moves. 

“I suppose you know-“ 

“That you’re a…” I leaned closer to whisper so people passing by wouldn’t hear. 

“An Original.” 

“You don’t seem to be phased.”

“Team doppelgänger has built up my immunity to supernatural beings.” I let out a weak chuckle, cringing internally and turned my focus back on my drink. I wanted to keep speaking with him, I really did want to keep speaking with him but I knew the world that I happened to live in and I didn’t fancy the idea of being bait or hurt as collateral damage. 

“It was really nice to meet you Elijah but I have to go.” He nodded, that handsome smile appearing once more, his actions made me gush and brought butterflies into my belly as he grabbed my jacket and assisted in placing it back on. 

“I hope that you have a good evening, Y/N” 

“Same to you Elijah.” He seemed to have a thought pop into his head, I stopped in my tracks, allowing for him to have the benefit of the doubt and give him the chance to speak his mind. 

“May I have the pleasure of seeing you again?” 

“Maybe… There’s always tomorrow.” I knew I had given myself away, I could feel my heart skip a beat, I’m sure he could hear it, his facial expression didn’t change but I could feel that he knew what I was feeling. 

“Have a good evening,” I whispered, brushing past him to carry on my way. 

+++++++

I had seen Elijah a couple of times since our first meeting, we had small conversations and I tried my best to conceal my heart, I didn't want to get close to this man despite enjoying his presence, his voice and the true appearance of his gentlemanly ways made me fall into a daydream greater than any story or dream I could ever have or read. 

The next time I saw Elijah was three months after our first meeting, as I said we had multiple different meetings and they were all the greatest moments of my life despite how much I tried to protect my fragile heart. I had left my home for the park, I wanted to read outside of my home and get some fresh air away from the stuffiness of my bedroom. I rested the picnic blanket underneath a large tree, I read three chapters of my book before I felt a presence looming nearby, I placed the book to the side and stood up, surveying the area for a figure and jumped in my skin seeing Elijah approaching me. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, may I join you?" I nodded, smiling at the man, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt and sat down with me on the picnic blanket. He gently picked my book up, staring at the cover with intrigue, I observed him with butterflies growing in my stomach, a blush wanting to form on my cheeks as I continued to drown in what was possibly a huge crush for the Original Vampire. 

"Ignite Me by Tahereh Mafi... I'm not sure I've heard of this one before." 

"I doubt you would've, I don't exactly picture you reading a book like this?" He smiled, tilting his head slightly, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth and he handed me back the book. 

"Why is that?" 

"Well... I don't know, I picture you reading older books nothing from the late 20th century to the early 21st century." Elijah briefly nodded in agreement, I smiled proudly at my guess and fiddled with the tassels hanging off of my bookmark. The vampire took off his suit jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his button-up, I bit the inside of my cheek, begging myself to remain calm and avoid giving away any kind of emotions being revealed. 

"Enlighten me, will you though, please? What's it about?" I cleared my throat, leaning closer to him with joy forming, giddy that he was showing interest in something that I liked and enjoyed. 

"It's the third book in the series, I've read it before, and this one is one of my favourites. Essentially the series is all about control some people have these powers and the leaders are trying to control these people. The relationship of the main characters is what I happen to enjoy the most about it, I love how Tahereh created their bond from..." 

"Why did you stop?" Elijah gently questioned, his face furrowing in concern, I wanted to cringe but I forced the words out before I could let that show. Taking a deep breath, I turned my gaze back to him, scrunching my face up briefly and proceeded to explain to Elijah what was going through my head. 

"Whenever I ramble on to the Salvatores and all that, it's clear that they don't care and I'm not wanting to force that onto you. I'm sorry." Elijah tutted, shaking his head and holding out his hand for me to take. Hesitating for a moment, I finally rested my hand in his, holding my breath for a moment and kept my eyes focused on him as he rested his other hand on top of mine. 

"You do that too often, Y/N, I can see you trying to protect your heart and you have a wide range of information waiting to come out and you shut yourself down because you expect everyone else to do that. I hope you find someone... someone who makes you realise you don't need to do that." 

"Could possibly end up being you, Elijah," I whispered.

+++++

When someone unknown came into Mystic Falls, it was always a concerning event, the vampires were always the most suspicious of strangers and most of the time they were typically right for not trusting the stranger. It was late when I left the grill tonight, Elijah was growing on my mind more and more, and I would be hit with a wave of memories at random moments. 

"Up ahead, there's an alley to your right, walk down it. Try anything-" 

"Okay... I understand." I whispered, complying as I walked a little quicker and turned down the alleyway. I cried out as I was instantly shoved against the wall, my head ached and the world spun around me, I bit back a sob as I hit the ground and hissed as the gravel bit into my skin. I kicked off my heels, not fancying a broken ankle and lept to my feet running towards the street but missed as the man tackled me to the ground and which resulted in blood slightly trickling down my forehead and more cuts forming against my skin. 

It felt like something out of a vampire movie, I heard a whoosh and then a light thud. Elijah appeared, holding the man against the wall effortlessly with one hand and easily compelled the man to walk off and not commit any sort of crime again. I let out a few sobs as the pain sunk in and the adrenaline started to fade away.

Elijah swooped me into his arms, effortlessly taking me to his mansion and rested me down on his obnoxiously large bed. He crouched down, gently cupping my face in his hands, observing my facial features and swiftly disappeared somewhere before running back. 

"Are you okay?" He questioned, focusing on grabbing the things from the first-aid kit to treat my wounds. 

"I'm okay..." I whispered, hissing as he wiped an alcohol wipe across the graze on my palm and watched as he apologised profusely for inflicting any added pain onto me. Elijah was so attentive to my needs, he cleaned the blood and dirt away from my cuts and grazes. Covering them with bandaids, doing what he could to assist in caring for me. It was as he was lingering for a moment, observing my form that I realised that Elijah Mikaelson would never hurt me. He would never cause any harm to me, Elijah Mikaelson would protect me and I knew that I wouldn't need to worry any longer. 

"You wouldn't hurt me..." I whispered, staring at the vampire as he grasped my face and held eye contact with me. 

"Y/N L/N I would never dream of hurting you, you... you're perfect... Y/N you are the epitome of perfect, I haven't met someone as intelligent, kind, sweet, and funny in a long time. Y/N I love you and I hope that you'll allow-" I pushed myself closer to him, carefully cupping his face to kiss the man who had possessed my dreams too often. 

"Elijah, please, never let me go, I can't keep guarding myself-" 

"Shhh, I've got you." He kissed my forehead, pulling me into his arms and pushing himself to lay against the headboard of his bed. I inhaled, holding onto the warm and mesmerising smell of his cologne, I curled into his chest and hummed gently as he rested another kiss on my forehead. 

I felt protected, Elijah was my guardian angel, and he made me feel warm and gooey. Made me giddy and the butterflies a constant swarm in my belly, I fiddled with his hands, staring at the family ring that rested on his finger and glanced to him as he pulled my face to meet his. I hummed as he rested a kiss against my lips, sucking in another deep breath and curling in closer as he strokes my hair, his touch comforting and loving. 

"Can I stay here? Just in your arms? Where I'm safe and with you, you Elijah who looks after me and takes the time to listen and know me?" Elijah's smile made the butterflies come to life, my cheeks flushed red and his simple words reassured me for an infinity of time. 

"Always and forever." 

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Sixteen} {<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Elijah Mikaelson x F!Reader} Request {@sweetieseven}:How about Elijah with a mirror sex kink? With dom/sub? The reader is an innocent girl with zero experience and still virgin. She and Elijah just know each other for at least a month... Can you make it like Bridgerton themed please (1800 era). Thankkk youuuu ❤️❤️❤️, (greedy I know...)

♡♡♡ I adore this ideaa, I know Elijah absolutely THRIVED in the 17th century ♡♡♡

3.1k words - Kinks: soft!dom Elijah, mirror sex, inexperience, 1800s themed, reader is super innocent && arranged marriage...

It was the duty of a young woman to marry, to find a good husband and give him children. That's what your mother had taught you growing up. But it was never as easy as she made it out to be, for some men were cruel and others only wished to take a wife to get his hands on her inheritance. It was difficult for a young woman such as yourself to find a good husband.

But it seemed fate had finally dealt you a good hand. Your father had secured a match, one with a respected noble family.

He was a fine choice, all the ladies would agree, for Elijah Mikaelson was the most sought after bachelor in the city. He had charm and charisma and, from the rumors you had heard, was quite skilled in the art of pleasure.

But, this just made you more fearful, for you knew nothing of the marriage bed. Ladies would come to you with conflicting tales of how men would treat them, sometimes roughly, sometimes with the utmost care. How would he expect you to behave? It was as though everyone else knew a secret you were not privy to, and it frustrated you to no end.

And now, it was your wedding night, you stood before a full length mirror, gazing at your reflection as the servants fussed over you. They stripped off your gown, leaving you in only a corset and thin night dress. The air felt cool against your skin, a welcome feeling against your heated body.

"Pardon my boldness, my lady, but that husband of yours is quite a looker." A servant girl said, pulling the pins from your hair, letting the locks fall freely.

You blushed, thinking of him, his handsome features and strong build. The way he looked at you as you said your vows made you feel things you did not understand, things that made your body ache and your skin flush.

You nodded, fear making words hard to come by. The servant smiled and patted your shoulder, her voice reassuring. "Don't fret, my lady. The first time is always the most frightening. But, I have a feeling the two of you will enjoy yourselves tonight."

The other servants giggled, and you couldn't help the embarrassed squeak that left your lips. How many servants were aware of your inexperience? Did he know? You had been told by many that men preferred their wives to be chaste, to have no experience with other men. You were a pure maiden, untouched. Would that be enough?

"All finished, my lady." She said, smiling kindly as you looked back at yourself in the mirror.

"Thank you," You said softly, watching them snuff out most of the candles, casting the room in a dim glow.

"Goodnight, my lady."

"Goodnight," You responded, watching as they all exited, closing the door behind them.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Should you get into bed? Or were you supposed to wait for him to arrive?

You settled on simply pacing around the room, too nervous to sit down. What was he going to do when he came in? Would he be gentle? You hoped so, the thought of him being rough was far too frightening to dwell on.

You thought back to when you were first introduced, only a few months ago. He had kissed your hand, his lips soft against the skin, but the look in his eyes was one of pure lust. It made you shudder to think of what was to come.

Your pacing stopped when you heard a soft knock at the door, the handle turning shortly after.

You stood rooted to the spot as he entered, shutting the door behind him. He looked even more handsome in the dim lighting, his dark hair perfectly styled, his face freshly shaven. He was no longer wearing his wedding suit, but a plain white shirt and dark trousers.

He walked slowly towards you, his eyes roaming over your figure, his lips pulling up in a smirk as he noticed your blush.

"Hello," he said softly, a hand reaching out to cup your cheek.

You swallowed, trying to formulate words, but they wouldn't come. He seemed to know this, his smirk widening as his thumb traced over your lips.

"This day has been quite long, hasn't it?" He said, his hand sliding down to hold your chin.

You nodded, the feeling of his touch making your heart flutter. His gaze was intense, sending heat throughout your body.

"Would you prefer to rest?" He asked, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You blinked, shocked at his suggestion. You were his wife now, did he not want you? A terrible feeling of inadequacy washed over you.

"Is that what you wish, h-husband?" You asked, stuttering slightly.

He hummed, his eyes flicking down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. "Not at all, my darling. But I do not wish to frighten you. This is a new experience for you, is it not?"

You felt your cheeks heat up even more, a nod was all you could manage.

"Do not fret," He said, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. "I'll show you everything."

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips to yours, his arms wrapping around your waist. The kiss was soft and sweet, but it ignited something within you, a need that was quickly becoming unbearable.

You gasped as he picked you up, carrying you towards the bed. You couldn't help but cling to him, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He chuckled at your reaction, laying you down gently on the bed, his hands going to the laces of your corset.

You felt a rush of fear as he began unlacing the garment, and your hands grabbed at his, stopping him. He looked at you, his brows furrowed.

"What is wrong, my dear?" He asked, his hands going to cup your cheeks.

"I... I don't know..." You whispered, your voice shaky. "I'm sorry, I-I just..."

He silenced you with a kiss, then he pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling his.

"Look," He said, pointing to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

You looked at the reflection, seeing the two of you. Your body was flush against his, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips. It made your breath hitch, seeing him touching you so intimately.

"We can see each other perfectly in the mirror," He said, his lips brushing over your jaw. "We can watch every single thing we do to one another."

His words overwhelmed you, and you buried your face in his neck, trying to hide your embarrassment. His fingers tilted your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours.

"You are so beautiful, my dear," He said, his lips meeting yours again. "I'm honored to have such a lovely wife."

His words caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, and you couldn't help but smile, looking into his warm, brown eyes.

"Watch," he said, his hand sliding down your body, pulling the laces of your corset loose.

You watched his every movement, mesmerized by the sight of him. His hands were sure and gentle with the way they undid the garment and soon, he was sliding it off of you. You could see the hunger in his eyes as he gazed upon your bare breasts, your thin dress leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Beautiful," He whispered, his hands cupping your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh.

You gasped, the feeling of his hands on you, wetness forming between your thighs. Your nipples were stiff against the fabric, and he noticed, his thumbs teasing the peaks.

"Tell me, sweet wife, what do you know of pleasure?" He asked, his lips trailing kisses along your neck.

"N-not much," You said, shivering at his touch. "Only what the ladies have told me."

"I see," He said, a smirk on his lips. "And what have they told you?"

"It's.... not appropriate to say.." You said, blushing deeply.

He chuckled, his hands tugging at the strings of your nightdress, loosening it.

"Oh, but it's most appropriate for me to know." He said, lifting your arms and pulling the fabric up and over your head, leaving you completely exposed to him.

"Please, husband.." You whispered, feeling so vulnerable and bare.

"Tell me." He said, his hands caressing your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples.

"I know you... put it in me... d-down there," You stuttered, his eyes drinking in your every expression. You couldn't look him in the eyes as you spoke, it was too embarrassing.

He chuckled, his hand slowly moving down your body, his fingertips ghosting along your stomach, stopping just before he reached the soft curls between your thighs.

"Is that all they told you?" He asked, his eyes locking onto yours.

"They said you were a good lover... t-that I would enjoy it.." You said, his smirk widening.

"Then I shall do my best to live up to such a reputation," He said, his fingers delving into the curls, it made you ache even more, a deep, burning need that only seemed to grow as he continued touching you.

His words sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips as he pushed a finger into you. It felt strange, a sort of foreign intrusion, but not painful.

"Look," he began, his finger curling inside of you. "See how easily I fit inside you? How wet you are for me?"

You glanced up at the mirror, watching his finger disappear inside of you. It was a sinful sight, one that made the ache grow stronger.

"A woman needs to be ready for her husband, just as he needs to be ready for her," He explained, his finger moving slowly in and out of you. "It will hurt otherwise."

"H-how does a man get ready?" You asked, biting your lip.

He smiled, his thumb finding a sensitive little spot, rubbing slow circles. It felt incredible, and you couldn't help but moan, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"For some, it's enough to just look at his wife, to see her beauty and know she is his. But, for others, it takes a little more." He said, his finger increasing in pace, his thumb matching the rhythm.

You had no idea how to make him ready, and the thought made your cheeks flush with shame. How could you be his wife if you didn't know such simple things?

He could see the distress on your face, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice soothing.

"Just by seeing you like this, by touching you, I'm ready," He whispered, his lips brushing over yours.

You melted into the kiss, the warmth of his mouth and the skill of his tongue sending another wave of heat through your body. His fingers continued their work, bringing you closer and closer to some unknown edge.

"Are you close, my love?" He asked, his nose nuzzling yours.

"Close to what?" You asked, panting slightly.

"Close to your peak, to your pleasure," He said, a smirk on his lips. "Have the ladies told you about that, my darling?"

"No..." You said, a bit embarrassed that you didn't know.

"Watch, then," He said, nodding to the mirror.

You looked at the mirror, seeing the reflection of his hands on your body, the way his finger moved in and out of you. The way his eyes were glued to your face, taking in every little reaction.

He added a second finger, stretching you in the most delicious way, his thumb pressing down harder on that sensitive spot. It felt like fire was running through your veins, and you couldn't stop the moan from spilling from your lips.

"There we go, chase that feeling," He said, his eyes glinting.

His words and the pleasure they brought made you snap, and you fell over the edge, waves of pure bliss washing over you. It was indescribable, and you felt yourself clinging to him, burying your face in his neck.

You felt boneless, utterly spent, but the need had not faded. You wanted him, wanted more of his touch.

"That was exquisite, my darling," He said, kissing the top of your head. "I can't wait to see you fall apart on my cock."

His words were so lewd, so unlike anything you had ever heard before, but they filled you with a strange sort of excitement.

You sat up, your hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He chuckled, helping you undress him. Once his chest was bare, you ran your hands over the smooth skin, his muscles flexing beneath your touch.

"Eager little wife," He said, smirking. "Just a small taste and now you're insatiable."

You giggled at his words, the ache still throbbing inside of you. His hands went to the laces of his trousers, and you watched as he freed his cock, his member thick and long. You couldn't help but marvel at the sight. You understood now what he meant by being ready, and the thought of him inside of you, filling you up, was intoxicating as it was terrifying.

He smiled at your expression, he took your hand and placed it on his cock. Your fingers wrapped around him, marveling at how soft his skin was.

"Does it hurt?" You asked, stroking his length slowly.

He hummed, his eyes closing as you touched him. "Not at all," He said, his hand wrapping around yours, guiding you to stroke him. "Just keep doing that."

You obeyed, watching as his breathing became heavier, his lips parted in pleasure. It was a wonderful sight, one that made the need grow even stronger.

"You feel nice," you whispered, biting your lip.

He grinned, his hand falling away from yours. "You feel better," He said, pulling your hips closer, grinding his cock against your wetness.

You moaned at the sensation, the tip of his manhood pressing against that sensitive spot he was touching before. He did it again and again, his movements slow and torturous.

"What happens now?" You asked, whimpering at his actions.

"Now," He began, lifting your hips, the tip of his cock teasing at your entrance. "I'm going to make you mine."

He pressed a kiss to your lips, then he lowered you down onto him, the head of his cock stretching you. It hurt and you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shh, it's alright, my love," He said, his voice low and soothing. "Breathe, just breathe."

You did as he said, taking a few deep breaths and you felt the head hit your barrier. He paused for a moment, allowing you time to adjust. Then, he pushed deeper, breaking through the thin membrane.

You whimpered in pain, your face buried in his neck. It felt like a thousand needles stabbing at your flesh, but he was there, holding you close, whispering sweet words. He reached between you and rubbed slow circles over that good spot, the pleasure easing the pain.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kissing the top of your head.

You nodded, taking a few deep breaths, then lowered yourself all the way down, his cock sheathed inside you. You felt a new ache, a need for him to move, to feel him slide in and out of you. It was instinctual, like your body was coming alive for the first time.

He moved slowly at first, letting you adjust to the feeling, guiding your hips to move with his. It reminded you of dancing, there was a rhythm to it, a sense of intimacy.

You were grateful for the mirror, it allowed you to see every moment, every movement. The way his hands held your hips, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he moved. He was beautiful, and you felt a surge of pride knowing he was yours.

The pain was gone, replaced by a new kind of pleasure, something deeper than his earlier touches. You were consumed by the need for him, your hands roaming over his skin, your lips brushing against his.

“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “See how perfectly you fit around me?”

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you continued to watch. Your skin was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and the way your breasts bounced with each movement only heightened your arousal. You were caught somewhere between embarrassment and excitement, but the look in his eyes—filled with lust and admiration—made you feel powerful, desirable.

He chucked at your reaction, his hands squeezing your hips. He leaned forward, pushing you backwards so that your back was against the soft bedding, you gasped and giggled at the sudden change in position.

He looked down at you, a smile playing on his lips, he moved his hips slowly, drawing his cock almost all the way out of you, before thrusting back inside. You moaned, the sensation was incredible, sending waves of pleasure through your body with every stroke.

"You're mine now, my love," He murmured, his lips trailing along your jaw, his breath hot on your skin. "All mine."

You nodded, unable to form words, his name was all you could manage. He was in complete control, and you loved every moment of it. You felt yourself being driven closer and closer to the edge, your climax building inside of you. He seemed to sense it, his thumb finding that spot once more, stroking in time with his thrusts.

You felt something within you snap, like a kettle overflowing, the steam escaping into the air. The pleasure washed over you, a wave of ecstasy that left you gasping for breath, clutching his shoulders.

He smiled, his lips colliding with yours, his pace was faltering, his breathing becoming labored. You had never learned exactly what happens next, about how things end. Your body tensed, unsure of what would happen, but he continued moving, holding your heated body close to his.

He let out a groan, his thrusts growing faster, deeper. You gasped at his roughness, the intensity in his movements, skin slapping against skin.

Suddenly, he tensed, pressing himself deep inside you. There was an odd warmth, something foreign that spread throughout your body. But you didn't mind it, it felt right, almost comforting.

His hands cupped your cheeks, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your skin.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice a husky whisper.

You nodded, giving him a smile. "Yes, I'm fine," You replied, your fingers brushing his hair out of his face.

He rolled to his side, bringing you with him, you let out a soft little laugh as you snuggled into his warm embrace.

You lay there in silence, enjoying the closeness, the warmth of his skin against yours. It was a feeling you knew you would never tire of.

"Is it always like this? This... pleasure?" You asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He chucked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"One can only hope."

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[readerthatreadsss]

hello you can make headcanons about yandere soft elijah mikaelson x fem human reader, where he has several yandere traits but to his lover he is a softie.

Alright anon, I GOTCHU.

Please don't be afraid to let me know how I did cause this is not only my first headcanon post but also my first Yandere one :)

Soft yandere!Elijah Mikaelson headcanons

Warnings: Starts off pretty calm but ends a little smutty so minors beware, sub!reader, yandere themes (possessiveness, manipulation, overprotective behavior, compulsion, mild obsession, denial of said obsession, unhealthy relationship tendencies, etc), breeding kink and edging mentioned, also more nsfw themes...

His siblings and enemies consider him to be noble, but when it comes to you? This man is everything but that.

Jealous, paranoid, overprotective? Yeah, that's Elijah.

The first time he met you had been under less than ideal circumstances but he couldn't help but take immediate note of how beautiful and strong you were. You helped the Salvatores to dagger him but that was quickly forgiven once you helped Elena undagger him a short time after. It was then that he saw that not only were you beautiful but you also had a good heart and were protective of the ones you loved, which was more than he could say for most of his past lovers, so he immediately set his sights on you.

Elijah needs to know where you are and what you're doing constantly or he stops functioning. Like he'll be more irritable than usual, snapping at his siblings, more aggressive with the men he's hired to watch you on the very few occasions when he can't, etc.

Most times he's following you with a small notebook where he writes down new things that he learns about you every day...though after enough time he's convinced that there's nothing about you that he doesn't know.

He saw you smiling at Damon for too long while watching you outside the Mystic Grill (without your knowledge) slashed Damon's car tires and ripped out his steering wheel.

His siblings tease him about his obsession with you and he denies it every time. "This isn't an obsession. I've simply taken a keen interest in her," he'll say.

Elijah takes note of your body language. And that's not just general things like how you struggle to hold eye contact with most people you talk to, or how you lick your lips and clench your jaw when you're frustrated. No, Elijah sees the smallest of habits that you don't even realize that you do on the regular.

He also knows your scent better than he knows himself. Elijah can actually smell your perfume/shampoo/lotion from a mile away and it actually comforts him the moment it hits his nose. When he's close enough or in a room with you, there are times when your scent becomes so overwhelming that he has to stop whatever he's saying or doing, close his eyes, and deeply inhale it so that he can go back to normal, (or as normal as he can pretend to be)

You are deeply involved in all the supernatural lore in Mystic Falls so you know that you're supposed to hate the Mikaelsons...but something about Elijah catches your attention. You liked how calm and composed he was or appeared to be in comparison to his brothers. Though he did things that sometimes hurt your friends, you could see and even appreciate the reasoning behind why he did them. He was also less impulsive than his brothers and sister in the same manner that you were less impulsive than your friends (the Salvatores, mainly).

You were one of the few people in Mystic Falls to engage in a conversation with Elijah that didn't end in a threat. You even once complimented the suit he was wearing that day and Elijah couldn't stop smiling for the rest of that day.

He has and will never lay a hand on you, even when his siblings demand that it would be strategic to harm you to persuade the Salvatores to do what they want. He actually threw Klaus into a bookshelf for even suggesting the idea.

Elijah sneaks into your house and watches you sleep on numerous occasions, and even though he knows it's wrong, he uses his abilities to force dreams he's had of the two of you together into your head while you sleep. He just wants you to see how good you could be together.

Since he started putting those dreams into your head, he's caught you stealing inquisitive glances at him, even with your friends around.

He hired someone to research your internet patterns and reading/music history and bought first editions of your favorite books/records and mailed them to your house that same week. You had no idea who sent them but the package was tied with a thick string that had a pattern that you could have sworn you saw on Elijah's tie the week before.

Since then you've been more hyperaware of your surroundings on your day-to-day. (You actually almost caught Elijah a few times but he managed to speed away before you could catch sight of him)

Elijah is known to be very patient in comparison to his siblings. This applies to you too. He wants you to see that he's the man that you belong with in your own time. But who says he can't continue to persuade you without brash tactics? So Elijah continues to send gifts, jewelry, and your favorite things to your house.

He saw you sitting at the edge of a creek one night and decided that this would be the one time where he would stop hiding and watching and just show his face. You two had a long conversation that night about the stars, (because he knew you were into astrology and astronomy) and he even told you that both your astrological signs were romantically compatible.

It was a lie and you both knew it but he loved the way it made you blush.

That was the night you two first kissed. It was better than the many many times he's imagined it. You were obviously apprehensive at first and he had to take the lead on it but he was more than happy to do so. You gave him your number and told him that you would be interested in going out with him. He already had your number for weeks before but you didn't know that.

It only took a few dates and late-night picnics for him to convince you to become his.

You noticed small differences in his behavior since you became official; he'd get slightly annoyed whenever he'd text or call and you'd say that you were with the Salvatores but if you were with Elena or any other female friends it was no problem, the deadly glares he'd send men in the street when you walked together and one stared at you for even a second (these men would end up missing dead in a dumpsterthat same night without your knowledge), or the way his grip on your hand would get tighter whenever you mentioned Klaus by name.

Once you started dating he insisted that you needed to live with him. He bought a house just so that the two of you could be alone and away from not only his siblings but the drama of Mystic Falls. You didn't agree at first, but Elijah sent two of his men to your house to fake a home invasion and that scared you right into his arms and your new home.

When you moved in with him, Elijah gave you a new phone and told you it was a housewarming present. It actually had a tracker in it and was connected to his own phone so that he could see every call and text you made. He asks you exactly where you're going whenever you leave the house. And of course, he checks his tracker just to double-check.

The longer you dated, the more violent Elijah got when it came to people who tried to harm you or take you away from him. But he never let you see him harm others, and on the rare occasions when you would, he'd compel you to forget it. He couldn't live with himself if he made you afraid of him.

Some of your family members got worried and upset when they went a whole month without seeing you and Elijah compelled them all to move across the country.

Despite having to do all of these outrageous things to keep you to himself, Elijah had never been happier. You were finally his and he would do anything to not only keep you his but to make you fall for him as deep as he had fallen for you.

He considers turning you because all he wants is to spend the rest of his life with you without worrying about human illness or one of his enemies taking you away from him, but he wants you to ask him to do it. He knows that bloodlust isn't something that everyone can handle and only wants you to be happy.

On nights when you'd get into arguments with your friends about your relationship with Elijah and come home sad and angry, he would hold you in his arms and kiss your head while you cried. He hated seeing you cry and would internally seeth with rage at your friends for making you sad. But he'd always find a way to calmly tell you that if it were up to him you'd never see the Salvatores ever again but he understands your loyalty. (he doesn't. he really doesn't like the Salvatores or how close they are to you.)

NSFW hcs up ahead...

Elijah is a primarily gentle lover by nature. For your first time, it was mostly because he thought he wouldn't get the chance to do it again and wanted to make the most of it while he could. But as you continued dating he was only rough with you when you asked him to be...which was most times.

On these days when you asked him to be rough...he would completely oblige. He would never degrade you but praises would easily fall from his lips while he pounded into you from behind with enough force to leave you limping the next day. "You look so beautiful taking me like this, love."

He gets extra possessive during sex. "No one else can ever make you feel this good, huh gorgeous? Tell me who's making you feel this good." "You're all mine, love. No one knows your body like I do," he'd growl with a hand softly resting around your throat while he drives into you with a finger fiddling with your clit. And Elijah was right. He knew what made you tick and what drove you crazy.

Elijah loves edging you. Like he will spend a whole hour working you with his hands or his mouth to the precipice of your orgasm only to pull away. He'd only indulge you once you were a sobbing, blubbering mess, begging for him to fuck you and let you come for him. You always wanted to be good for him so you'd never come without his permission.

He definitely feeds on you during sex (with your permission ofc). He loves the intimacy of the act and even makes you drink his blood sometimes. But Elijah also just loves the taste of your blood. It's painful every time he does it but you love the look of satisfaction that crosses his eyes once your blood hits his tongue, so you swallow the pain and allow him to do it every once in a while.

He absolutely LOVES leaving hickeys on your body. He would shout it from the highest rooftop that you were his if he could (he wanted to but you begged him not to), so for now, he's settled for leaving those deep red marks on your skin to let others know who you belong to. Once you tried to hide them with a scarf and he snatched the scarf from your neck and ripped it to shreds in front of your face.

Elijah worships your body during sex. He will caress and kiss every part he can get his hands on. He quite literally cannot get enough of you. His favorite parts of your body are your shoulder, your inner thighs, and your stomach.

You moaning or screaming his name drives Elijah FERAL. Actually, just you saying his name is music to his ears regardless of the setting. Your voice can soothe him in an instant or be his undoing in the bedroom.

There was one day that he got caught up in the moment and said, out loud, that he'd murder any man who even thought about seeing you like this. But you were so cockdrunk that you didn't register it.

Lastly. Breeding kink. Need I say more? Actually, I'll say more cause why not. Elijah obviously doesn't need to worry about surprise pregnancies with you but that doesn't stop him from whispering in your ears that he's gonna "fuck a baby into you," or that he "loves filling your womb with his come"

I know this was supposed to be soft yandere...but I feel like it kinda got away from me and strayed into REAL yandere territory so I hope that's okay?

Don't be afraid to comment or reblog and my requests are open! Hope you enjoyed <3

[mikaelsonharem7]

“I believe the term you’re looking for is OMG”

Elijah Mikaelson- The Noble One

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟻𝚔 || 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Your hangouts with Elijah cause a certain Mikaelson to become jealous.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Jealous Kol, Bit of Elena tormenting,

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!reader, platonic!Kol Mikaelson x reader

You and Kol sat comfortably at the Grill, watching Elena from across the room as she poked at her salad with a fork, clearly annoyed but trying to act as though she couldn’t see the two of you. Kol, of course, was leaning back in his chair with that signature mischievous smirk, the one that always spelled trouble for anyone in his sights.

“Look at her, trying to act all aloof as if she hasn’t tangled herself up in a love triangle with two brothers. Honestly, Elena, have you no creativity?” Kol drawled, his voice loud enough to be heard from your table, earning an annoyed glance from her.

You snorted, leaning in closer, your voice dripping with false sympathy. “Honestly, it’s tragic. Two brothers, both madly in love with you? I mean, isn’t that a little cliché? Couldn’t you just pick someone who isn’t a Salvatorian? We get it, you like the brooding types.”

Elena finally rolled her eyes, pushing her plate away. “Can you both just leave me alone?”

“Oh, but where would be the fun in that?” you teased, wagging your finger at her like she was a child. “Besides, we’re just giving you some friendly advice.”

Kol leaned forward with a gleam in his eye. “We think it’s time you choose, darling. All this toying with emotions—why, you’re going to give the Salvatores heartburn.”

You were about to add another snide remark when something strange slipped out of your mouth instead. “Maybe it’s time you did what’s best for you, Elena. Honestly, leaving both of them might not be the worst idea. You could focus on yourself for once.”

Kol froze, his entire body stiffening as if you had just insulted his entire existence. His eyes widened, and his mouth parted in disbelief. “What… did you just say?”

You blinked, realizing a second too late what you’d let slip. “Uh… I mean—”

Kol dramatically pushed his chair back, standing up as if you’d just committed an unforgivable crime. “No, no, no. This is all wrong! You—you’ve been hanging out with my brother, haven’t you?!”

Elena furrowed her brow, glancing between the two of you like you’d lost your minds. “What’s happening right now?”

Kol didn’t even acknowledge her, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction. “You’ve been sneaking around with Elijah! He’s doing that thing he does—saying all those moral, noble things. He’s trying to steal you from me, isn’t he?!”

You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “No, no, I mean, we just… had a couple of conversations, that’s all…”

“Conversations?!” Kol looked genuinely betrayed, like you’d just sold his entire wardrobe on eBay. “Stop giving her morals, Elijah!” he shouted to no one in particular, waving his arms as if the eldest Mikaelson brother was lurking in the shadows.

You put your hands up defensively. “I didn’t ask for his advice! It just… happened!”

Kol threw his hands up in the air. “This is exactly how it starts! First, it’s ‘maybe it’s time you do what’s best for you,’ and next, it’ll be ‘let’s not murder people for fun anymore.’ Before you know it, you’ll be sipping tea and quoting Shakespeare!”

You burst into laughter despite yourself, though the panic was still bubbling under the surface. “Okay, I would never—”

“You say that now!” Kol snapped, pacing dramatically. “But mark my words, this is how he does it! He gets into your head with all that ‘duty’ and ‘honor’ nonsense, and then BAM! Suddenly, you’re going to bed at 9 p.m. and lecturing me about responsibility.”

Elena, thoroughly confused, stood up. “I’m just… going to go.”

Kol waved her off, not even sparing her a second glance. “Yes, yes, run along, Elena. The real problem here is not your love triangle but this betrayal of new best friends.”

As soon as Elena was gone, Kol was back to pacing.

“Look, it’s not like I’m going to turn into Elijah, okay? I’m still your partner in crime!” you insisted, but even as you said it, the memory of Elijah’s calm, reasoned voice played in the back of your mind. Was it so bad that he made sense sometimes?

Kol stopped dead in his tracks, pointing at you. “Don’t you even think about it. I swear, if you start quoting him to me, I’ll—”

“What? You’ll find another best friend?” you shot back, a grin creeping onto your face. “Come on, Kol. We’ve been wreaking havoc for centuries together. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kol huffed, crossing his arms and pouting like a petulant child. “I don’t like sharing.”

“Clearly.”

Suddenly, he stopped pouting, his face lighting up with a new wave of determination. “That’s it! I’m going to confront him.”

You barely had time to process what he said before Kol vanished in a blur of vampire speed, leaving you alone at the table. You groaned, slumping back in your chair. Great. This was going to be a mess.

Kol stormed into Elijah’s study, finding the elder Mikaelson calmly reading a book. Without even looking up, Elijah sighed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Kol pointed dramatically. “Stop trying to steal my partner in crime!”

Elijah finally glanced up, raising a brow in amusement. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me!” Kol declared, stepping closer. “I knew what you were up to the moment you started talking to her about all your noble nonsense. ‘Oh, maybe we should care about people’s feelings,’ ‘Oh, maybe it’s not so fun to torment humans endlessly.’” He mocked Elijah’s voice with exaggerated reverence. “Well, newsflash, Elijah! She was mine first! You’re not giving her morals and stuff.”

Elijah raised an eyebrow, completely unbothered. “Perhaps you should spend less time tormenting innocent people, Kol.”

Kol let out a mock gasp. “Innocent? Elena? Are you mad?”

You bit back a laugh, but Elijah’s smirk was all too telling. “I assure you, I’m perfectly sane. Though I must admit,” he glanced at you, his voice lowering, “I rather like this new side of her.”

“Don’t be smug!” Kol snapped, throwing his hands up. “I see what you’re doing! You’re trying to turn her into one of your allies. Next thing I know, she’ll be wearing suits and frowning disapprovingly at me!”

Elijah chuckled softly, closing his book. “She has a mind of her own, Kol. If she chooses to follow my advice—”

Kol gasped dramatically. “See? SEE? This is how it starts! You’re trying to steal her from me! With… with philosophy!”

You chuckled at Kol's dramatics. “Kol, seriously?”

Kol pointed at you accusingly. “Don’t ‘seriously’ me! I saw the way you looked all guilty back there! I won’t stand for it!”

Elijah’s eyes flicked to you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he regarded you with a mixture of fondness and amusement. “Is that so?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, completely flustered. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean it.”

Kol narrowed his eyes, shaking his head furiously. “Don’t listen to her. She’s gone soft.”

“I am not soft!” you protested, crossing your arms indignantly. “I just… said something Elijah-ish by mistake. It doesn’t mean I’ve gone all moral!”

Kol crossed his arms, turning his back to you both with a huff. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Elijah smirked. “I suppose that’s my influence.”

You groaned. “Don’t encourage him.”

Kol turned back around, dramatically pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, I see it now. I’ll be forgotten—replaced by Elijah of all people. You’ll be sitting by firesides discussing literature and sipping wine, and I’ll be out in the cold, wreaking havoc all alone!”

You chuckled, stepping forward to playfully nudge Kol. “I’m not ditching you for Elijah, Kol. You’re my best friend, remember?”

Kol peered at you, suspicious. “Promise?”

You rolled your eyes. “Promise.”

Kol narrowed his eyes at Elijah one last time. “I’m watching you, brother. Stop with the moral lectures.”

Elijah chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll do my best to refrain.”

Just then, Rebekah sauntered into the room, glancing between the three of you before resting her eyes on you. “My, my. Trouble in paradise?”

You groaned. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Rebekah grinned wickedly. “Pity. I was hoping for some drama. You know, if Kol’s giving you too much trouble, you could always keep me company instead. I promise I’m much more fun.”

You burst into laughter, while Kol made a face. “Don’t you dare!” he warned, pointing at Rebekah.

Rebekah winked at you, clearly enjoying herself. “Think about it, darling.”

Kol groaned loudly. “Why is everyone trying to steal my best friend?!”

Elijah chuckled softly, looking at you with a smirk as you shook your head in amusement. “It seems you’re in high demand.”

You just grinned, shrugging. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

thank you so much for the request @unstablereader !!

[loppsided]

e. mikaelson as your boyfriend

summary: headcanons for dating elijah mikaelson.

pairing: elijah mikaelson x reader

wc: 389

warnings: kissing, mentions of blood

a/n: another boyfriend headcanons! ik they get repetitive but there just a base to fill up my masterlist and practice writing! requests are still open so send something if you want! likes and reblogs appreciated.

very protective, always having to know where you are incase of danger

the possibility of being taken or hurt since the mikaelsons always have a target on there head

very noble obviously, doesn't make promises often but when he does he ALWAYS sticks by them

prefers to kiss you on the forehead and top of the head rather than cheek

love language is 100% acts of service or gift giving

a bouquet every week is a given when dating him

see's you taking care of hope sometimes and is filled with love and sadness since he wishes he could have kids with you

speaking of kids, i think he would adopt children with you, especially if you've been together for a while

would take you to where he used to play as a kid in mystic falls

probably keeps your existence a secret from his siblings since they can be dangerous

if your also an original and have known him since you were humans, hes so obsessed with you its crazy

being together for over 1000 years will do that to people

him holding you while you were going through your transition, shaken, seeing you all covered in blood from being stabbed by mikael

when you were humans he would always ask you to come with him to the watering hole and just talk to you for hours

after getting married he built you and his shared house, decorating it how you liked

him teaching you how to use a sword, sword fights leading to make out sessions

comforting him when his brother passed away

back to now

somehow always knows how your feeling? like hes just really good at reading you and your emotions

if your a younger vampire, he always teases you about how hes stronger than you

assisting him with dealing with the mystic falls gang and his family

still being starstruck seeing you in dresses for the millionth time, like at the mikaelson ball

traveling all across the world in your free time, seeing the most beautiful sites

always hears you out in arguments, taking your feelings and opinions into account

him being extremely loyal to you, not even imaging himself with someone else even after all these years

if he really loves you, he'll blood share with you

the sweetest, kindest most thoughtful boyfriend

[noirgl0w]

None of the Mikaelsons are good people but I like how you can see Elijah struggling to be one, because he thinks that by being the noble brother, the man of word he is, he proves that he is good when he is not. Deep down he knows this, deep down he knows that he is a monster just like his siblings, that he will never be good. Everything Elijah has craved is stability, happiness, a normal life, everything he can not have because of his family and his condition as an original (Or a vampire, for that matter). Just as Davina said, he has innocent blood in his hands, he has killed in the name of his familyand thinks somehow that makes it better. I really do think that he wants believe his ownwords, that everything he has done was for a reason bigger than himself, he has this complex behavior in which he believes himself better than his siblings but at the same time believes himself the worst of them.

Because Elijah Mikaelson wants to be a good man so badly, even when he knows he can never be.