#elena x katherine

[hannamarins]

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES 🩸 2x04 - Memory Lane

[piperslovebot]

[finnicks]

( fic ) you bear your fangs and drink me

you bear your fangs and drink me

the vampire diaries | katherine/elena; mature; 85 words Elena's no longer afraid of the big bad vampire.

[tvdverseladies]

misskathgifs:

“Kelena + Winter Colors” requested by dauphiinfrancis (and an anon)

[shrenvents]

Spellbound

Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, cunnilingus, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader

Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.

Word count: 2.7k

...

Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.

She was his newest fascination.

He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.

He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.

“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”

“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.

Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...

Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...

Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.

“Where are we headed this time darling?”

“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.

“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.

“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”

“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus went quiet. You watched as his expression goes blank, before he acts as though he was in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”

“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.

“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”

“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”

The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”

He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.

“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”

After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.

That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.

Like any other day, your conscious is eating away at you, as you call upon another ancestor of those he plagues. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours, as you questioned his late brother through the veil.

“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes dart to yours, and his angry appearance softens. Instinctively, he grips your forearm and drags you out of the motel room.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.

Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, let your guard down, and close your eyes. Such an urge that has only worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together…

“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."

Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”

After five minutes alone in a booth, you gather up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, heading back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you think. But you can’t help it.

When you enter the room, the door slowly creaks shut, and shadows engulf you. It’s too quiet, and you can’t see the hostage. Unease fills your system, and you begin to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off, when the captive grabs your torso, roughly caging your arms. His grip is inescapable, and when you try to scream, his free hand covers your mouth.

“You fucking bitch,” he murmurs with disgust, and you wince. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackles with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggle against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.

He muffles Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears prick your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.

The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carry you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.

His figure then disappears just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.

After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'

“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”

You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you, I’d probably be dead by now.”

“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”

“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”

“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.

“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You start to laugh too.

“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voices, airily. "I gave you my word.”

“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”

You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”

“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.

“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”

You freeze, heart dropping.

“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.

He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's most likely playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.

“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”

Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.

Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and palms your ass.

Continuously rolling your body into him, makes you feel his arousal, causing a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth runs down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.

“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.

“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to your assailant…

“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him, and rushing out the car.

Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking the door open, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.

As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.

His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands soon make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.

He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus ogles you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.

He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”

“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every which way he could.

You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.

When your lengthy climax finishes, he moves to sigh pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.

“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act is.

“There’s only so much I can do before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”

He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.

Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.

You straddle him, and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.

“You’re too big,” you gasp.

“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“

“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.

“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.

“More,” he just about whines.

“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air abandons your body.

Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him, and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.

He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.

After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck.

Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.

“This is only the beginning.”

If you enjoyed this, i'm currently writing a klaus fanfic! it’ll be posted on my wattpad @ shrenvents <33

[pinkhysteria]

the last unicorn, peter s. beagle

[mikaelsonincorrectquotes]

Y/N: I don’t even flirt that much.

Damon: Oh really? *Stands up,* Raise your hands if you think you’re dating Y/N.

Kai: *raises hand*

Katherine: *raises hand*

Klaus: *raises hand*

Elena: *raises hand*

Damon, side eyeing violently: Elena Gilbert, what was that?

[cece693]

Bet (Klaus Mikaelson x M! Reader)

Summary: Thanks to your brothers, all you knew about the Mikaelson family was that they were dangerous and threatened your livelihood. However, when you're saved by the hybrid himself, he poses a bet to change your mind or be given insight into the cure.

link to part two

You paced the old parlor of the Salvatore boarding house, frustration bubbling inside you like an unwelcome storm. Damon had been shouting in your ear again, his usual rant about the Mikaelsons’ supposed evil nature still echoing off the walls. He was adamant: the Originals were nothing but a death sentence waiting to happen, and you needed to steer clear of them.

Stefan, meanwhile, had taken his usual route, trying to appeal to your emotional side. He claimed your search for the cure was pointless, a dangerous fantasy you needed to abandon. His eyes had softened, his voice dropping to that earnest tone he reserved for when he was about to say something ‘profound.’

“It’s over,” he’d said. “What we did centuries ago, what happened to you…it was for the best. We’re a family now.”

You'd barely managed to stifle your scoff. A family, he said. Easy for him to preach about family when he and Damon had been content to let Katherine turn them. You, on the other hand, had been set to marry Emily, a kind-hearted girl from town. All that was ripped away when your brothers decided to drag you into their mess, condemning you to an eternity you never asked for. You had lost everything. You hadn't chosen this life; it had been forced upon you.

“Look, little brother,” Damon had warned earlier that night, his eyes darkening as they flickered to yours, a flash of genuine concern slipping past his usual bravado. “Stay away from Klaus. He’s not the kind of enemy you can afford to make.”

“Damon, I’m not stupid,” you’d retorted, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I just want the cure. If Klaus has any knowledge of it, I’m not going to let your paranoid warnings stop me.”

And that was why you found yourself in the woods outside Mystic Falls, pursuing the rumor that Klaus was near. Your heart pounded, a mix of anger and hope driving you forward. That hope turned into a nightmare when one of Katherine's minions appeared out of nowhere, tackling you to the ground. The stake in his hand glinted in the sunlight, aiming straight for your heart.

You struggled, trying to push him off, but he was relentless. Just as you braced for the end, there was a blur of motion, and your assailant was suddenly torn away. You gasped, scrambling to your feet as you saw Klaus standing over the broken body of your attacker. His eyes were cold, yet his posture was relaxed, almost as if saving you had been a minor inconvenience.

"You—" your voice came out rough, disbelief dripping from every word, "you saved me?"

Klaus tilted his head, eyes dancing with amusement. "Don't sound so surprised, love. Surely you didn't think I'd let Katherine have all the fun."

Your pulse hammered in your chest, more out of confusion than fear. Klaus, of all people? The monster your brothers had warned you about? The hybrid who supposedly wanted nothing more than to tear the Salvatores apart? You glared at him, trying to ignore the nagging questions in your mind.

"Why?" you demanded, pushing yourself to stand straight despite the throbbing pain in your side. "Why would you help me?"

Klaus stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a piercing intensity. "Because," he said softly, his voice dangerous and smooth, "I have plans for you."

You tensed, instincts flaring again, but something in his gaze held you captive. There was a softness, a flicker of something deeper beneath the cold exterior. "Plans?" you repeated, the word bitter on your tongue. "Like what, adding me to your collection of enemies? Using me against my brothers?"

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver up your spine. "So much suspicion. Your brothers really have done a number on you, haven’t they?" He took another step closer, his presence commanding and overwhelming. "But I assure you, my intentions are far more…personal."

Your stomach twisted in knots, both from his words and the weight of your brothers' warnings ringing in your ears. Klaus Mikaelson is a monster. He’s dangerous. Don’t ever trust him.

But here he was. Standing before you, having just saved your life.

"You expect me to believe that?" you asked, your voice harsher than you intended. "That you’re just here to help out of the goodness of your heart?"

Klaus smiled, his lips curling with dark amusement. "No, I expect you to listen. I know what you’ve been searching for—the cure." You froze. He knew. Of course, he knew. Klaus always seemed to know everything. But this was different—this was something you had kept close, something personal, driven by a desperation to reclaim your humanity.

Your mouth went dry. "What do you know about it?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"I know more than you think," Klaus replied smoothly, his eyes gleaming. "But that’s not something I’ll simply give away."

Of course, there was always a catch. You crossed your arms, defensive. "What do you want from me?"

"Simple," Klaus said, taking a final step until he was just inches from you, his voice low and measured. "Spend time with me. Get to know me and my family. Let me show you that we’re not the monsters your brothers make us out to be. If, after that, you still believe we’re nothing but dangerous beasts, I’ll tell you everything I know about the cure."

You scoffed. "So, what—this is some kind of bet?"

Klaus's smile turned predatory. "Call it a wager, if you prefer. If I can’t change your mind, you get what you want. But if I do…" His gaze flickered over you, something unreadable in his eyes. "Then you’ll owe me."

"That’s it? You’re not going to force me into anything?" You raised an eyebrow, your suspicion still very much alive.

Klaus chuckled darkly. "I don’t need to force anyone into anything, love. I think, deep down, you're already curious."

His confidence rattled you. But beneath the fear and doubt, there was a flicker of something else. A sense of intrigue. Curiosity. After all, hadn't you already begun questioning your brothers' stories? You hadn’t expected Klaus to be anything other than a brutal monster—and yet, here he was, offering you a chance.

After a moment, you sighed. "Fine, I’ll take your bet. But don’t expect this to be easy."

"I wouldn’t have it any other way."

What began as a begrudging agreement quickly spiraled into something far more complex. Klaus introduced you to his family, and to your surprise, they were far more than heartless killing machines.

Elijah’s calm, noble demeanor immediately stood out. He was nothing like the vicious killer you’d imagined. And Rebekah—though quick-tempered and prone to impulsiveness—had a genuine vulnerability that reminded you of Stefan in a strange way. They weren’t monsters; they were people. Complicated, dangerous people, yes, but not the soulless creatures Damon had described.

Klaus...Klaus was the most perplexing of all.

He was still terrifying, no doubt about it—his temper as quick as ever, a constant reminder of the danger lurking beneath his every move. Klaus’s control over any situation was absolute, as though the world bent to his will, daring not to defy him. And yet, there was something about him that gnawed at the edges of the image your brothers had painted.

It started subtly, at first. His gaze would linger on you a fraction too long, his eyes softening for a moment before the familiar steely mask snapped back into place. In those rare, unguarded moments, you felt something shift—a crack in his unyielding façade, a glimpse of the man he might have been before centuries of betrayal hardened him into the creature he had become.

And then there were the nights when you found yourself alone with him, often under the most unexpected circumstances. Once, after a particularly brutal fight with Damon, you returned to the mansion bruised and exhausted. You had expected Klaus to gloat or mock your weakness, but instead, he was there, his presence both commanding and unexpectedly gentle.

You stumbled into the grand foyer, wincing with every step as pain radiated through your battered body. Klaus emerged from the shadows, his eyes sharp with concern. Without a word, he guided you to a nearby settee, his hands surprisingly gentle as he helped you settle.

"You should be more careful," Klaus murmured, his voice low and almost tender. He knelt beside you, his fingers brushing lightly over the bruise on your bottom lip. His touch was meticulous, almost reverent, and the contrast between his harsh exterior and this tender care was jarring.

You met his gaze, searching for the ruthless hybrid you’d come to know. Instead, you saw a flicker of something softer, an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t understand you,” you said, wincing as your words caused the sore area of your lip to tighten. “Why keep me around if this is all a bet? Why show yourself like this if I’m to be a pawn in your game? Don’t deny it, I heard my brothers speaking about how you plan to use Elena to get rid of your curse.”

Klaus’s expression hardened for a moment, the mask of his usual confidence slipping just enough to reveal the hurt beneath. He took a deep breath, his gaze intense as he met your eyes. “You think of me as nothing more than a manipulator, but there’s more to this than you realize.” Standing up, you watched as Klaus turned his back to you, in an attempt to hide his weaknesses.

“I didn’t plan for this to be a game,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a trace of regret. “My initial interest in you was strategic, but it evolved into something far more complicated. Yes, I need Elena to break the curse, but that doesn’t mean my feelings for you are any less real.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “Your actions are so contradictory. One moment, you’re this ruthless hybrid, and the next, you’re kind. I can’t make sense of it.”

“I understand your confusion. It’s easier for people to see me as a monster because it suits their narrative. But the truth is rarely that clear." You wanted to look at Klaus, so with much bravery, you stood up from the settee and walked toward him. His back tensed, yet you stood in front of him, his blue eyes darkened with a mixture of frustration and sadness.

"They call me a monster, a villain. And maybe I am those things. But I’m more than that. I’m someone who cares about the people I choose to let in." His hand hesitantly went to your cheek, and you couldn't help but lean into the touch.

"And you’ve…chosen me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

A ghost of a smile touched Klaus’s lips. "Against my better judgment, yes. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and I’ve lived a long time."

The intensity in his eyes made your heart pound. You wanted to hate him, wanted to cling to the stories your brothers had fed you, but something had shifted. He wasn’t just some ancient monster; he was a man with desires, hopes, and wounds he kept hidden beneath layers of cold indifference.

"Then tell me," you challenged "Tell me the truth. Is there really a cure, or was this just some elaborate game to win me over?"

Klaus’s gaze darkened with an intensity that spoke of deep emotions. He took a moment, the silence stretching between you as if he was weighing his words carefully. “There is a cure,” he confessed, his voice grave and earnest. “And if you still want it, I’ll help you find it.”

You searched his eyes, looking for any hint of deception, but all you saw was an unfiltered sincerity that was both unsettling and reassuring. “And if I take it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What then?”

Klaus’s expression grew somber, the lines on his face deepening with the weight of his emotions. “If you take it, you’ll be walking away from your brothers, this life…from me.”

The pain in his voice was palpable, but he didn’t try to mask it or push you towards any decision. There was no manipulation, no hidden agenda. It was a raw, honest confession from someone who had been playing a complex game but now laid his cards on the table.

You were taken aback by the contrast. If this had been Damon or Stefan, they would have tried to convince you to stay, to forget about the cure and remain by their side. They would have manipulated your feelings, used every trick they had to make you change your mind. But Klaus—Klaus was offering you the choice without trying to sway you. He was hurt, yes, but his respect for your autonomy was genuine.

“I… didn’t expect you to be so honest,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “You’re willing to let me go, even if it means losing me?”

Klaus nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I am. Because I understand what it means to desire something with every part of your being and to be willing to make sacrifices to achieve it. If the cure is what you truly want, then I will help you find it, even if it means saying goodbye.”

[megantheestallion-ismypresident]

guys I'm n my vampire diaries era, like I lowkey miss the show and it just gave me memories on the first time I watched it I'm rewatching it the 2nd time but I also wanna write fics so when I have ideas I'll write, but if u guys have any request ask me 💗 also I watched a little bit of the originals but they took it off of netflix. These are the only characters I could think of and remember, but if there's another, please tell me so I could write them

[mrs-kmikaelson]

MASTER LIST

Started: July 7, 2023 Last updated: Oct 14, 2024

I write for:

The Vampire Diaries, The Originals, Shadowhunters, the MCU, the Hunger Games series, and Criminal Minds. I may also write for Fate: The Winx Saga, Cobra Kai, Grey's Anatomy, 13rw, Gossip Girl, and Riverdale (even tho I have no idea what's happening in that show anymore). I typically write fem!reader-insert fics, but you might see a ship once in a while. Crossovers may happen. Btw, I add angst to like everything. Straight-up fluff is rare.

a/n: just wanted to let everyone know that requests are open rn, but that might change once summer's over. i update this list every time i post.

Klaus Mikaelson

The Tribrid You're Klaus Mikaelson's long-lost daughter that he has no idea about, yet somehow you still find yourself getting entangled in the New Orleans wars, both with the city and then with your own family. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Should've Known Better After a thousand years of marriage, everything comes crumbling down, taking you with it. But you shouldn't have been so surprised; you knew that Klaus was fire, and you knew that fire burned. You should've known better. 1 2

Stefan Salvatore

Coming soon

Damon Salvatore

Coming soon

Elijah Mikaelson

Coming soon

Katherine Pierce

Coming soon

Kai Parker

Coming soon

Elena Gilbert

idk y'all but i had an idea so we'll see ab this one

Steve Rogers

Coming soon

Bucky Barnes

Coming soon

Natasha Romanoff

Coming soon

Tony Stark

Coming soon

Peter Parker (T.H.)

Coming soon

Alec Lightwood

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Jace Herondale

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Finnick Odair

Our Song and Dance You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. 1 2 3 4 5 6

Aaron Hotchner

What's in a Name? 5 times you and Agent Hotchner questionably cross paths over the years, just for him to watch you walk away (+1 time you don't). The Grey Area You meet Aaron Hotchner and he makes you see everything in colour; he makes you feel like you're the only girl in the room. But then, as you find out that you're not, you realize the colour he actually makes you see the most is grey. (a/n: very scandal based). Series Masterlist

Derek Morgan

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Spencer Reid

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Emily Prentiss

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[fandoms--fluff]

Hellooooo sorry to bother you but do you think can right one of Katherine Pirces were she has a baby girl y/n and she’s like 4 months old and the salvatores brothers finds out about her they use her to take Katherine dawn but they don’t now that she ask the originals but specifically Elijah help to save ther daughter

Mama's Girl

Baby daughter reader x mom Katherine Pierce

Warnings: kidnapping,

A/n: I made a few tweaks in it, by making Elijah the father, but I hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katherine picks you up from your playpen which has two fluffy blankets and some stuffed animals. "You hungry baby girl?" Katherine smiles as you babble while nuzzling your head into her chest. "I'll take that as a yes" She kisses the top of your head before sitting down on the black leather couch beside the playpen.

She holds you with one arm and as the her other hand pulls a part of her black shirt down, releasing one of her breasts. She coaxes your head toward her full breast until you easily latch on. As you drink your mama's milk, she holds you protectively in her arms.

She doesn't know how the hell she had gotten pregnant, considering she's been dead a very long time. And it wasn't just her child, you, actually was growing inside her, but her body also changed for how it would when any other woman would be pregnant. ex. she produces breast milk. She's still confused but doesn't ask why anymore, just grateful that you're her baby.

The only two people who know about you are; Elijah and Kol Mikaelson. Kol saw Katherine walking around a park a couple towns over, obviously pregnant. He then later that day asked his big brother how he had managed to knock up Katherine, assuming that Elijah and she had hooked up. And he wasn't entirely wrong, Kol just doesn't need to know that. Elijah went over to her house and confronted her, they had a long conversation, deciding it was best to keep you a secret.

Or so she thought, not taking into account the two Salvatore brothers are staked out, across the road.

"How did Katherine get a baby? and she's caring? what the hell" Stefan says, turning over to his older brother.

"Well, baby bro, when two adults think it's time, they decide to start having se-" Stefan cut him off, "I didn't mean like that!" Stefan groaned.

"Whatever, this is our chance to have something to finally take the vampire bitch slut, down," Damon says, getting out of the car. Stefan sighs before following Damon down the road.

Damon explains the plan he made to Stefan, which they put into action.

Katherine looks up, something seems off. Before she can get a second thought, the front door is knocked off it's hinges and vervain grenades are thrown in. Getting into a coughing fit from the toxic herb, she sees a figure of someone coming over to her with a mask.

As soon as he gets close to her, Damon snatches you out of Katherine's arms and speeds out of the house. Katherine quickly stands up, adjusting her top back, but before she can go after him in a weakened state, someone grabs her from behind. The second person, Stefan, wraps his left arm around her neck until she can no longer breathe in air, passing out quickly from the vervain still in the air.

Stefan lets her drop back onto the couch and walks back outside, peeling the mask off his face. "Now what?" He asks Damon, watching as he tries to make you stop crying. His attempts are proven useless, making you cry louder about being taken away from your mama.

"Oh come on, can't you be quiet, you're going to make a scene with how loud you are" Damon whisper yells at you.

Being a baby and not understanding anything he's obviously saying, you just scream louder.

The brothers quickly get into Damon's car with you, Stefan having to hold you, insisting to Damon it's not a good idea to just throw you in the backseat and hope for the best. He drives off before Katherine has a chance to reawaken.

Coughing, Katherine slowly opens her eyes. The light shining through the windows tells her it's still daytime. Recollecting her memories of what had happened while she stands up makes her freeze. She quickly vamped around the entire house, not finding her baby, you, anywhere.

Damon and Stefan, the two names that come to her mind. They took you. All she can do is pace back and forth, a look of murder in her eyes. But she has to play this smart, if she just goes crashing in there alone, she's more than sure that there'll be everyone there. They'll obviously be expecting that.

She goes to the coffee table where her phone still lays from earlier and dials a number.

"Katerina, how are you doing?" Elijah's smooth voice emits from the phone as he picks up.

"Not well, considering the Salvatores found out about y/n, came crashing in, took her, and now are probably thinking of ways to take advantage of our daughter against me" Katherine exclaims, having no time for small talk.

Elijah's eyes widen and he reassures her everything is going to be okay and to meet her in the woods by the boarding house. Katherine follows his instructions clearly and immediately leaves the house.

Katherine gets to the woods in record time, she looks around before feeling a hand on her shoulder. She quickly turns around, ready for a fight. Though it's just Elijah.

"My apologies," Elijah says.

He starts explaining his plan of what they're to do. Katherine follows every bit and nods before heading to the back of the house, out of sight from anyone inside.

While she hides out back, Elijah goes to the front door. He knocks a few times before Damon opens the door. He gives a suspicious look towards the original.

"I believe this is the part where you invite me in," Elijah says.

He pauses for a second before stepping to the side, letting the older vampire inside.

As Elijah walks down the stairs into the library, he lays his eyes on you. You're currently being held by Caroline. She's been trying to cheer you up and to stop your crying but nothing has worked. You're not wailing anymore but there are still tears running down your tiny cheeks every now and then.

He puts on a facade, acting surprised at the sight of the baby. Caroline and everyone else notice this. Caroline walks over to the other side of the room and places you into an old wooden crib they had found in the attic.

"What's the occasion of your visit?" Damon all but growls, not happy about an original vampire being in his home.

"Just the fact that you have apparently acquired a baby in a short amount of time. I'm only curious" he says, trying to ignore your looks for him. You see the man in the suit is recognizable as your dada. He comes over a lot and holds you and cares for you, and makes your mama smile.

You hold your arms up in a grabby motion. Everyone hasn't noticed. They're all focused on Elijah as there was no way that he just happened to know two hours after they had taken you. Someone must have been watching them.

Damon and Stefan are standing in front of Elijah, whose back is facing you, the rest of the gang all stood behind the brothers.

Katherine watches from behind the door, knowing what to do next. She opens the door and makes her way inside, causing the gang's attention to go to her.

"That was stupid of you" She sneers, her vampire face on display.

As your mama distracts everyone else, your dada quickly goes over to you. He picks you up and vamps out of the room through the same door Katherine left wide open.

"What-" Elena started saying and turned around, seeing that you and Elijah are gone.

Everyone else followed her action and before they knew it, it was only them. You, Katherine, and Elijah, are long gone.

Katherine follows Elijah to a clearing in the woods. He's cradling you against his chest, slightly swaying you as you calm.

"I'm so sorry I let this happen, I never wanted anything to happen to her," Katherine tells him, feeling an emotion she hasn't felt in a long time, guilt.

"There's nothing to apologize for. There was no way for you to know what was going to happen" Elijah says, softness in his eyes. "Come, I have the perfect place for us. It's out of town and secluded" he smiles.

As they make their way there in his car, they talk the whole time as you're sound asleep in your car seat.

[zalrb]

Saint {elena/stefan/katherine pt. 7}

It's long and hopefully messy af. Hope you enjoy! The gif limit pisses me off, lololol.

Link to part 1: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/707929608286240768/toxic-elenastefankatherine-fic

Link to part 2: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/709460774203064320/valentines-day-elenastefankatherine-fic-pt-2

Link to part 3: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/709838031967879168/choices-elenastefankatherine-fic-pt-3

Link to part 4: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/710274615200628736/blood-elenastefankatherine-fic-pt-4

Link to part 5: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/710584105290579968/boundaries-elenastefankatherine-fic-pt-5

Link to part 6: https://zalrb.tumblr.com/post/733086688201654273/kill-elenastefankatherine-fic-part-6

Stefan Salvatore was walking. Haunting the night. Skulking the shadows. The way a vampire should, he supposed.

All of Mystic Falls seemed to be sleeping or at the very least, shut away in their homes, leaving him the freedom to brood in the open air. He had to have walked the entire town at least once by now. It felt that way, anyway. But he couldn't stop moving, walking, running. Couldn't stop trying to outstrip his own thoughts.

Really, he was ready to be bored. To evolve. He was ready to just be done. Over the years, when he’d come across other men who had fallen prey to Katherine Pierce – tomb vampires, Elijah, Mason — he had pitied them, having had been a victim to her once himself but no longer a fool to her sway. It was all in the past. Even when they’d slept together years after she'd returned to his life, he hadn’t been twisted up or lovesick. It had been a contained moment. He had evolved from her then. So, he didn’t know why he felt like this now. Why she had her claws in him now. Why he couldn’t seem to get enough now.

He didn’t love her. That much he knew. Not after everything she’d done to him, the lies and the deceit, the violence, the manipulation; she’d stolen his human life and had done her utmost to ruin his vampire one so that he only had her to rely on. But more than that, he couldn’t love her. That was the important part. He couldn’t love her after knowing what true love felt like, not after knowing what Elena felt like, her blood, her touch, her kiss, her voice. For all the lifetimes he lived and would live, he knew that nothing could or would ever eclipse that. Loving Katherine wasn’t the problem.

And yet. She had been gone for fourteen days and he felt those fourteen days in his skin. He wanted to forget her --- his mind, his heart, his conscience all wanted to forget her, but his body was in a tragic, despicable need. His lust, his anger, his resentment, his ego, they all fed off the poison in his interactions with her and they were, waiting, in frenzy, for another hit before he was swallowed with shame for the feelings that came out when he was with her.

He drew some dark, vicious satisfaction from the fact that Katherine had to be more of a mess than him. He may have been craving her but he knew that she was fiending for him. In an attempt to punish him, she was torturing herself and thinking of her, tormented in her self-appointed denial of him, only served to arouse him.  He hated that. God, he hated her. Above all, he hated himself. His craving was tinged by disgust, his yearning accented by hate, he was in a repulsive, unsavoury state of being, that left him wired and strung out and even mired in all of this, missing Elena.

He’d been avoiding her. Avoiding hurting her. Avoiding scaring her. She had seen him at his lowest and he had told her about the worst parts of himself, she had seen his worst parts, his capacity for danger, for cruelty, the things about himself that brought him the most shame and remorse, and she’d never judged him. No, she’d understood, offered sympathy, gave him grace, gave him her love and that was why he couldn’t bear to see her when he was sick with another woman. The woman who had cursed him with her love. It was an insult. 

Suddenly, Stefan stopped walking.  He heard ... it sounded like ... those words ... that tone ... In the distance, he could see a cross perched above a steeple. It ... what he heard ... he couldn't block it out ... it was coming from that direction.

He heard it again.

His heartbeat quickened with dreadful anticipation. He wanted nothing less than to see who that voice belonged to and yet the promise of a reunion stoked in him a furious lust or lustful fury, he wasn't sure which. He should be smart. He should be strong. He should --- 

But his feet took him to the church. 

The sanctuary was only lit by candles so it was dark and quiet. The sound of his footsteps was the only thing he could hear until ---

A voice, breathy and whiny with need. "But the thing is, Father, I haven’t seen him in … weeks …” “And I’m just so … so hor --- tightly wound. For him. But I just …” Quickened breathing. “I just need some kind of relief. Please. Do you think you can help me? Do you think you can help a child in need? Please?”

It was an instinct he would do anything to curb, but Stefan sped over to the confessional and wrenched open the door. He didn't know what he expected to see. If there'd be a priest in a compromising position or dead or compelled or ... he didn’t know, he just knew he had to see. There was no one inside.  Suddenly, Katherine was behind him in a black dress accented by a long rosary draped around her neck in layers, and a smirk on her face. 

"Fancy seeing you here," she said.

Stefan grabbed her then turned and pushed Katherine hard against the carved, ornate wall of the confessional. 

"Stop messing with me!"

"Were you angry that you thought I was corrupting a man of God or were you jealous because you thought I was with another man at all?"

Neither. Both. She was toying with him and he was in no mood. And yet he was. Stefan could feel his fangs itch. His blood boil.

"Who did you want to kill, me or him?"

His jaw clenched. She always asked that question. He never answered. He would not give her the satisfaction of admitting anything. 

“God, you’re just revving to go, aren’t you?” 

“That why you disappeared, huh?” he asked. “Again?”

His anger sounded desperate even to his own ears. God, he wanted to kill this feeling.

“Sometimes it’s good to remind you that you want this as much as I do,” said Katherine. “That you go feral when you don’t have access to me.” 

"So then, how did you know I'd be out? How did you know I'd come here?"

Katherine looked at him with mock sympathy. "Stefan, Stefan, Stefan," she said. "I lured you here. All those late night walks you take."

He blinked at her. Her expression was smug and satisfied --- it was the face of triumph, of a winner, and yet she did nothing to move from his grip on her throat. As ever, he didn’t know if that meant he was in control or if it was her. Stefan let her go and backed away.

She walked toward him, slowly unravelling the rosary twirled around her neck. "You really think I would've left you alone for two weeks?" She pulled a face. "You think I wouldn't want to see my handiwork? All that tension, all that need?” She shivered at the anticipation of Stefan unleashing all of that on her. “I've been watching you this entire time."

He wanted to seize her and break her and kiss her and lay her bare.

Stefan looked at  the rosary, now hanging loose around her neck. "Little theatrical don't you think?" he said, glancing around the church, at the confessional, the candles, the stained glass windows.

"I like making an impression. This is the perfect place for you. All that guilt?" She put a hand on his cheek and he tensed. "Want to add a little more?"

"What game are you playing?"

"Doesn't matter." She ran a finger across his lips. "I know you want to play with me. Maybe that can be your first confession. What's it going to be, saint or sinner?" 

He caught her finger between his teeth, and Katherine nearly convulsed. It took all the control she had to keep from launching herself at him, to keep from begging him to relieve the frustration she'd been suffering from for fourteen days.

It had been a persistent ache that had driven her to the point of humiliating neediness, where she did everything she could, used everything she could think of to rid herself of the pulsing desire that could only be satiated by the man in front of her. And he was going to completely undo her with a simple act.

Stefan closed his eyes. What was he doing? How was this his life? Why couldn't he stop? He needed to stop. He --

"There's nothing I'd ever confess to you," he said.

Katherine draped the rosary around Stefan as well. "I'd expect nothing less than you wanting me on my knees, begging you for absolution." She pulled the rosary tight around his neck, choking him, using it to pull him forward, to pull him toward her, so they were a breath away from each other, so close her lips brushed against his when she spoke.

"Shall we begin?" She gestured to the confessional.

Stefan didn't answer. He didn't move. He just stayed where he was, letting the beads dig into his skin. The moment he thought he heard her voice on the wind, he knew that he would succumb to whatever was going to happen next. He would fight and battle, and he would hate himself for it, but ultimately he would succumb. He knew that. She knew that. He wondered, then, if it would give him peace, even momentarily, if he did more than succumb for the night but if he actually gave in. If he admitted what this did to him, that it excited him. Would that soothe something in him, would that give him the relief, the release, he needed to be set free? Could he move on, could he sleep, could he face himself, could he face Elena, could he tear away from the intoxication of toxicity if he just ... ... confessed?

“I’m not a saint.” He glared at her before freeing himself from her beaded prison and stepping into the side of the confessional for the and closing the curtain behind him. 

Katherine flushed. “Oh, I do love a surprise,” she said, before stepping into the box herself and closing the door behind her. 

*

Elena just made it onto campus and felt glad that Bonnie and Caroline had refrained from moving back because she didn’t know if she was going to scream or if she was going to cry when she got to her room, and she wanted to be alone to figure it out. 

She was barely inside her dorm before she heard, "Do you want to know what's so perfect?”

Elena turned on the light and saw Damon sitting on her bed, a drink in hand. The books and grimoires she went to sleep reading and re-reading to find that one overlooked line or detail about how to permanently kill Katherine Pierce so that she was gone gone, not other-dimension gone, were on the floor. She threw her head back.  

“I thought you outgrew this, Damon.” 

“Uh…” Damon shook his head, trying to find words. “Let’s say alcohol makes me emotionally regress.” 

Elena closed the door behind her. “Right.”

“I’m surprised you’re here actually. I thought you’d be out stalking your ex boyfriend.” 

“I know exactly where he is,” said Elena quietly. “I know exactly who he’s with.” 

The church. Doing God knows what with her. It was a bit of a sick joke. Elena had been keeping tabs on Katherine who had been keeping tabs on Stefan, which meant that Elena had been following him too, skulking after him the way Katherine did, the way she had always done. He’d told her about how she’d checked in on him over the years and even at the time he’d told her, when they’d been together, Elena understood how and why Katherine would do that, how and why she’d just need a glimpse of him to see how he was doing. It was Stefan after all. Not knowing where he was or how he was doing her summer before college had weighed on Elena like a pebble lodged in her mind. And now she was in a place where she couldn’t help but check in on him. For two weeks, Stefan had avoided her. Avoided everyone. And she had allowed him his privacy only because she’d known where he was. 

Damon chuckled. “Perfect transition. So, again, do you know what’s so perfect?”

“What, Damon? What’s so perfect?”

"You and Stefan, the great love story, the great romance, and your love is never enough."

Elena closed her eyes and sighed. “I really don’t feel like playing this game tonight.” 

"No, but just think about it.” He put his glass on the bedside table and then put his hands behind his head. “He loved you and yet he left you to save me. You loved him, you chose him, but ended up with me. Why do you think that is? You two just love each other too much to be together permanently? You always have to leave?”

“But I never really did leave him, did I?”

Damon did nothing but glare.

Elena leaned against a dresser. “I never left him,” she said again. “And he never really left me. Even when it hurt. Even when we tried.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “Why else would we still be in each other’s lives? Don’t you think I know how desperate this looks, how pathetic I must look to everyone? After hearing them, after seeing them? Don’t you think I know anyone else would’ve walked away? But it’s still the same, I can’t give up. And neither could he.”

“He didn’t fight for you. Not when you chose me.” 

“He respected my choice,” said Elena. “But he never left me,” she said, shaking her head. “So, why do you think that is?” 

Damon scoffed. “Feels like he finally is giving up.”

“This is a phase. Some kind of revenge.” 

Damon raised his eyebrows. "You think he's sleeping with her to hurt you back?"

"Stefan doesn't do that. He isn't---"

"What? Me?" Damon grinned. "That's the problem."

Elena muttered beneath her breath. "Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said? That's what you want the problem to be."

Damon put his hand to his chest. "Ouch."

Elena sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Damon, this really isn't---"

"You've said a lot of things over the years that have hurt me," he said, swirling the whisky in his glass.

Elena blinked temporarily wrong-footed. "I..." She took a breath. "I'm sorry."

"Stefan's never experienced that."

"You just asked me if I thought he was with Katherine," she could barely say her name, "to hurt me back. How can you also think I've never hurt him? Especially after everything between the three of us?"

"Doesn't count. Extraordinary circumstances."

Elena furrowed her eyebrows. "What other reason would there possibly be for me to hurt him?"

"What reasons were there for you to hurt me?" Damon took a sip of his drink. "You've been casually cruel, you've manipulated me. You couldn't stand to do that to Stefan," he said in a tone that was somewhere between smug and bitter. "You can't bear to see him in pain and that's the beauty in all of this."

Elena looked at him, incredulous. "Damon, I don't---"

"Do I really have to spell it out for you? You can't save Stefan from this. You can't keep him from Katherine."

"You're wrong," she said simply.

"You love him too much," Damon said. "He loves you too much. It's too pure."

She shook her head. "That's ridiculous."

Damon laughed humourlessly. "Stefan isn't a saint and you've never been able to accept that."

"No, no,” she said, walking up to him, her index finger pointed. “I've always known that Stefan has a dark side, OK? I've seen it. I've faced it," she insisted. "I just think that he's more than the worst thing he ever did! So does he!"

Damon gestured triumphantly. "And that's exactly why you're losing. You two always bettering each other, pushing each other, protecting each other." He took on a mocking tone. "Trying to find the rainbows and the puppies and the silver lining." He rolled his eyes. "He's revelling with Katherine in the parts of himself he hates, that he tries to ignore or tries to better. You two could never do that."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Because you revelled with me. You tasted blood with me. You killed because of me."

"Because of the sire bond."

"Which part?"

Elena brushed her hair away from her face but said nothing. Damon nodded.

"Casually cruel even in your silence. You have no problem hurting me. You have no problem hating me. The truth is, you know how addictive it is, what Stefan is doing." 

Elena narrowed her. "I was never addicted to you."

"The sex dreams you've had about me beg to differ."

She scoffed. "That was different than what's happening to Stefan now."

"Because it's Stefan. He doesn't half-ass anything, my brother, he goes full throttle. All or nothing. He's not just addicted to Katherine, he's obsessed with her."

Elena winced.

"And that fucking torments you, right?" said Damon.  "But you still can't hate him for it. You still can't want to kill him for that. You can't give him what he---"

"That isn't what he needs," said Elena sharply

"But it's what he wants," said Damon. "He wants to be feral and savage. He wants to be a vampire. And you can't give him what he wants this time." He drained his glass. "Call it karma."

“I don’t believe that,” said Elena. 

Damon looked at her, a vindictive grin on his face. “Then why did you leave the church?”

Elena furrowed her eyebrows. “How did you know that’s where they were?”

“The question is, do you want to go back?”

***

Katherine had never been more exhilarated. She heard Stefan on the other side, heard the unbuckling of his belt, heard his zipper, heard him shift; when she’d moaned and whimpered, he’d pressed himself against the wall, she was sure of it, and that made her flush with arousal.  She could hear the faint whispers under his breath, his self-admonishments, his curses of pleasure, his need for release that sickened him and she encouraged his tortured desire with unadulterated excitement as she let him know she couldn’t help herself, that she never could. Through the grate she could see that deliciously anguished expression as he reacted to her words, her noises. She sighed loudly. He responded in kind. 

“Confess. Do you like hearing me?” 

“Yes.” 

She smiled. “Because you want me?” “Yes.” 

“And that kills you?” 

“Yes.” 

“But you want me anyway?” He was leaning his forehead against the grate and gripping onto the wall, splintering the wood. “Yes. Yes.”

Katherine threw her head back. His words were drugging, enough to bring her to the brink. She’d yearned for his yeses for weeks, for decades, for a century and now he was giving them to her in a choked voice tortured with want. 

“You crave me?”

“I’d give anything to stop.” 

She made an urgent noise and caressed the grate in a feeble effort to feel his skin through the gaps. 

“Tell me. Confess. Confess.”

“I haven’t had my fill of you.” 

“Yes,’ said Katherine.

“I want -- fuck.”

She was undulating, racing to finish.  This was … this was … but, she couldn’t ignore it. The twinge in her chest, the nagging feeling that always served to remind her that even with all of his lust and pain and conflict, that even with his acquiescence, even with his obsession,  he didn’t love her. He didn’t have her in his heart. None of his confessions --- I hate it but I can’t stop and I hated you for showing up tonight but I hated you for leaving two weeks ago and yes, it’s taking everything in me not to break down this wall and come for you --- were about his undying passion or eternal love for her. He belonged to her even when, even if, she stopped claiming him, even when he refused her claim, he would never, could never pull away from her. Katherine felt a flare of rage amidst her desire that then turned to a resolve of sorts, as it always did. This was all familiar and yet never old, she, and they, could never get old. 

Katherine got up and ripped open the curtain. Stefan was already leaving his side of the booth to get to her. She pushed him back inside, sitting him down so that she straddled him. She’d never get his love, fine, she would just have to do what she always did --- bring Stefan lower, deeper into her, entangle him in the messy web that was their relationship. Take it all from him. She took a kiss from him, ravishing him, dug her fingernails into his shoulders, whimpered into his mouth when he grabbed her by the neck.

He moved them out of the booth, back into the nave, and slammed against a pillar, making the building shake. The impact was near-hazardous and the idea of his lust for her being so great it’d bring down an entire church inflamed Katherine beyond reason.

“No,” she whispered in his ear. “I want you now. Now.” 

He lifted off her dress in a single motion and suddenly there was clattering on the floor. Something had fallen out of her pocket. A lot of somethings. Stefan moved away slightly to inspect, making Katherine groan with impatience and frustration at the absence of him against her, between her. She took a step forward to close the gap between them but Stefan pushed her back against the pillar, holding there, his quiet domination making her moan. Candied chestnuts had fallen from her dress. One landed in Katherine’s bra. Stefan’s eyes stayed on it for a few moments and then he quirked an eyebrow, looking at her to explain.

“Come on, Stefan, you know your history,” she said breathlessly. “I was alive at the time, after all.” 

After a beat, he realized. “This is a poor substitute for the Vatican.” 

“But it’ll do.” 

“Mm.” 

He closed the gap between them -- finally -- and buried his face in her chest, taking the chestnut out with his teeth before kissing and palming her breasts. Katherine sighed and gripped his hair, gripped his back, pushing him deeper into her so she could feel him once again between her legs.

Stefan teased her with a graze of his fangs and she shivered then left her again, to pick up her dress. He found a few more chestnuts, and backed farther away from her as he chewed the one in his mouth. 

“If I remember that contested piece of history correctly…” His expression was becoming more devilish. “The courtesans were stripped bare, weren’t they?”

Katherine steadied her trembling body against the pillar, trying to exude control instead of melting into a begging mess. “They danced first.”

Stefan nodded.

“Is that what you want me to do?”

His gaze was focused. “I just want you naked.”

And God, that was what he’d get. Katherine left her spot on the pillar and followed Stefan into the aisle. She reached behind her back then stopped, and then looked at him. “That’s what you want?” She wanted him to say it twice. “Me, naked, on my hands and knees?”

“Yes.”

It was a command and with that voice and that look, she would do anything for him. 

“You know it was here,” she said, unclasping her bra. “This exact spot.” She let it fall to the floor. She wanted him wild and inflamed and as drunk on her as she was on him. “Before I was dragged to hell.” She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear. “Where I vowed that only I could have you.” She was wearing nothing but the rosary and it switched something in Stefan’s brain. 

“Only pick up what I drop,” he said.

And she did. Stefan took his time, walking backwards, step by step, toward the sanctuary, leisurely dropping chestnuts on the floor, keeping Katherine’s gaze as she crawled toward him, collecting what he scattered.

The way she moved, feline, almost serpentine, a seductive display just for him

inflated something in Stefan that made him want to twist the rosary around her neck around his hand and pull her to him.

He could do anything. He could have her like this, on her hands and knees, for hours. One word and she’d do what he told her to. She had centuries on him, more strength than he could fathom, and she’d let him stake her for his pleasure, torture her for his knowledge, she’d let him bind her and leave her for his own amusement. She never said no. And he never had to compel her to say yes. Never had to use the tricks on her that she’d used on him. The power he had over her, the control he held, he alone had that and did that, he could make her plead, make her pay, make her yield to him in a way he could never and would never yield to her and every time he remembered that, every time she reminded him of that, he wanted to test the limits, see how far she was willing to go, how far he could go. 

She had chestnuts in her hands, in her mouth, she’d picked them up in ways he wouldn’t have been able to imagine. The more she prowled, the more her movements seemed to change, seemed to shift into something… dangerous, as if suddenly, Stefan was prey, as if he was something to be consumed. That same smug expression was on her face now but with sultry, seductive eyes, like she had him right where she wanted him, like she would devour him completely. And the closer she got to him, the faster his heart raced; he could hear its beat in his ears, feel a tremor throughout his body, and Stefan felt something like excited trepidation mixed with resentful frustration that she had seized back the power he’d been enjoying. But this was what she wanted, the struggle for the upper-hand. She wanted him battling himself, battling her, the fight, his better nature, is what tangled him in her with no thought of escape. He had to give in tonight. He had to. Remember?

Suddenly, they were against the altar and Katherine was feeding him chestnuts, transferring one into his mouth with a kiss that made him greedy, that made him want to steal her breath, steal her soul, that made him want to leave her a gasping husk. And then he was on his knees in front of her as she picked up a chalice half-full with wine and poured it down her throat so it spilled down her chest, her stomach. He drank the red rivulets off her skin, licking and lapping and sucking so that she giggled and moaned and clutched him to her

and then he was piercing her skin and drinking from her skin, her blood on his tongue, the wine on his lips, her nails digging into his shirt, raking his back, his grunt and her moans reverberating off the walls and echoing throughout the church. Stefan turned his attention lower so that her body arched and she fell back onto the altar, her back bowing off the surface, her arms spread out so she could grip the edges, her moans turning to sobs of pleasure and calls of Stefan’s name. He had her at his mercy. 

Before he knew it, positions changed. The candlesticks and the chalice and the cross clattered to the floor and he was lying flat on the altar in their stead. Somehow, she had tied him to her with the rosary, bound his body to hers with complicated knots and layers, entangling him, snaring him. He was still fully clothed and she sat astride him, completely bare, her hand on his throat, as she teased him, using him to pleasure herself, daring him to grab her and take her, spurring him to grip her waist tighter and tighter and tighter because the harder he held her, the closer his grip came to grinding her bones, the more control he had to exert over his desire and Katherine wanted him to falter and crack and completely break apart beneath her so that he could utterly destroy her with his prowess.

She didn’t stop until he begged, until he admitted to wanting her so badly he couldn’t stand it, to wanting her to ride him to oblivion, until he confessed that he didn’t know how or when he would be able to liberate himself from their game, and Stefan hated each word he groaned while she laughed and basked and rewarded him with her hands, her mouth, her gyrating body. Lust so close to blood lust, desire so close a murderous rage toward Katherine and all she’d done to him, all she would do to him, could do to him, and toward himself for wanting to exact his revenge in this way. And then they were clawing at each other, biting each other, the candlelight illuminating how they writhed in delicious agony, tearing each other apart with their carnal appetites. 

Even without her vampiric ability to eavesdrop from miles away, Elena was sure she would’ve been able to hear the screams of pleasure coming from the church. As it were, she was with Damon a few yards away, asking herself over and over why she chose to come back, why she would torment herself this way. Out of everything she’d heard over the past few months -- and she’d heard more than she’d ever cared to -- this was the worst of it. 

Elena glanced at Damon by her side. He was near-catatonic --- in so much pain that he looked to be in the process of disassociating. 

“Oh my God,” she said. “We’re here because you’re jealous.” 

He shook his head, snapping himself out of his horrified reverie, and looked at her as though he were seeing her for the first time. 

Elena glared at him. “You wanted to hear them because of some sick need to punish yourself or measure yourself or something.”

“Yeah, well.” Damon shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of practice listening to Stefan screw your brains out in the house.” 

“This is unbelievable.” Elena shook her head. “You hate the thought of him in there with her.”

“Yeah, I do. And you know what? I hate the thought of you hating the thought of them in there too.”

Elena threw up her hands. “What do you expect me to say to that? That I’m flattered?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

“No!” said Elena. 

She stalked off. Vaguely, she wanted to go back to campus but she didn’t even know if she was going in the right direction, she just knew she wanted to get as far away from Stefan and Katherine as possible.  

Damon followed her. “Then why are you so mad that I’m jealous about what’s going on in there?”

“I’m mad that I let you talk me into coming here because you’re just playing into her hands! This is what she wants, this is what she likes!”

“So, no part of you likes that I can’t stand how much this hurts you? Because I still want you?”

Elena stopped short and opened and closed her hands in frustration.  “No, I just feel bad. I don’t want you in pain, Damon, but your pain over our breakup isn’t a compliment and your jealousy over my feelings for Stefan isn’t a turn on!” Elena buried her head in her hands. “And I would probably feel worse about what this is doing to you if I had the room but I can’t get everything I just heard out of my head. I can’t---” Stefan’s confessions made her hold her stomach.  “I’m pretty sure I’m going to go crazy.” She rubbed her eyes and felt the tears she couldn’t help wet her fingertips. “Why would you convince me to come back here?” “Why did you let me?

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“It’s because you want to fall out of love with him,” said Damon. 

Elena sighed, suddenly exhausted. “No.”

“You’re lying to yourself.”

“That’s not it.”

“You want me to convince you---”

“I love him, Damon.”

He stared at her. 

“I’m not playing games. I’m not in denial. I just love him. And…” she bit her lip. “I came because I want to understand this as much as I can.” As she said the words, she realized it was true. Even now, even in this, she wanted to know Stefan, wanted to be close to him. “I want to be there for him when this finally ends, but…” But right now she wanted to scream. She started to walk again to keep herself from doing it.  

Damon grabbed Elena by the arm, pulling her to him. She glared at him. “WHAT?” 

“Don’t get sad,” he said. “Get even.”

“Let go of me.” 

“You want to save him?” said Damon. “You want to understand him? You want him back? Sink to the level he’s at.” 

Elena took a deep breath. 

***

“So, Katherine was stalking Stefan. You were stalking Katherine. And Damon was stalking you?” said Bonnie, sipping from her coffee.

“We were all stalking Stefan,” said Elena. 

“Why would you go back?”  said Caroline, adjusting the knapsack with the candles and the books and the grimoire on her shoulder.

She, Elena and Bonnie were trekking through the woods, on their way to the witch burial site. Caroline had called for a coffee date/catch up and Bonnie suggested combining it with a field trip to search for answers about their “Katherine problem”, and for the entire morning, Elena barely heard what either of them said and mostly walked around with a loud ringing in her ears.

“I don’t know,” said Elena because she knew they wouldn’t understand if she’d admitted it was to be close to him.

“Yeah, this whole thing sounds so healthy,” said Caroline. 

Bonnie shot her a look. “Was that really necessary?”

“Well, I’m sorry but this is insane! Our group has survived a lot of cross…” Caroline shook her head, trying to find the right words. “Couplings, I don’t know! But Katherine is breaking us. Bonnie and I are displaced from our home---”

“It’s bad but let’s not be dramatic,” said Bonnie, as they made their way into the dilapidated cottage. 

“No, the dorm is our home for the next few years and we can’t even stay there for long periods of time. We are displaced!” said Caroline, as she and Elena helped Bonnie set up the candles around the cottage. “Stefan is off the deep end.” Elena closed her eyes at the pain of that. “Damon is getting there and who knows how many people that will put in danger, including us! Matt is,” Caroline gestured. “I don’t even know what’s going on with him, I just know ever since Katherine decided he was a key player in her weird psychosexual whatever, he hasn’t been the same.” 

Bonnie laid out a blanket for the three of them to sit on. “I mean, she’s right. I had to use my magic on you. I hated that.” 

“Exactly!” Caroline gestured. “It’s mayhem!” 

Elena didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like she could disagree. Katherine’s preoccupation with Stefan had brought out a side of Elena she didn’t recognize, made her consider things, do things, think of things she would never otherwise. 

“And we haven’t found anything about, you know, killing, really killing a vampire and it’s been months!”

“That’s why we’re here. I want to see if they,” said Bonnie, gesturing around the cottage, “have any insight. If they’ll even help us.” 

“Even if they did, are we even sure that’s going to work?” Elena said it in a voice so quiet, Caroline and Bonnie barely heard her. 

They stared at her with furrowed brows and Elena looked up at them, already wiping away tears. “He chose this. He’s choosing this. Before, with the blood, you know, I … I did that to him. I made him drink from me. And Klaus … that was for Damon. Everything that happened after that, the way he pushed me away … that was to protect me. But with her, I don't …” Elena’s voice cracked. “I'm starting to wonder if he just doesn't want to stop and that scares the hell out of me, the thought of letting him go, I can’t do that but even thinking about trying scares the hell out of me. But I …I just …” 

The breakdown Elena had been delaying for weeks poured out of her and Bonnie held her just as she cracked so that she was crying into her shoulder. Caroline shifted over to hug her.

“I just don’t understand how she’s able to do this,” said Elena. 

“Elena,” said Bonnie. “If you don’t want to---”

“No,” she said, sniffling. “I’m not giving up. We still have to do this. We still have to try. It just … it hurts.” 

***

For the first time in weeks, Stefan was still. Sitting in the library. Brooding. Stewing. Sitting with himself, with the wreckage he wrought, the decisions he made, the life he’d led, the one he didn’t get to, he was sombre and melancholic and felt the familiar sourness of shame.  He was still for hours and then he heard her. She was hovering in the doorway. He knew she knew that he sensed that she was there.

“You can come in.” 

Elena took a few steps into the library. "Katherine left,” she said.

"Yeah."

Elena continued to walk until she could see Stefan’s face. "Bonnie said you were the one that made her go."

Stefan didn't respond. He should’ve known Bonnie wouldn’t keep it to herself. He hadn’t told her so Elena could know, he’d told her in the hopes that Bonnie could work her magic and do something like spell the town to keep Katherine from ever coming back. 

“Well, is it true?” Elena insisted.

Stefan simply nodded. He'd had the conversation with Katherine the night before. It hadn’t been planned. There wasn’t a big speech. He had walked into her apartment and without any preamble told her it was time to leave.

"Get on a bus,” he told her. “A train. Steal a car, take mine, I don't care, just leave. It's done. You're done here."

Katherine had looked at him. The grin on her face had slowly disappeared when she’d realized that this wasn’t a game, this wasn’t an empty request. It wasn’t a request at all. 

"Something's changed,” she’d said. 

"I've let it go,” said Stefan. “I'm..." he sighed. “This isn’t what I want.” 

“Bullshit! You wanted this! You wanted me! Don’t deny it, you know that you did!”

“I did,” he said openly. “And now it’s over.”

Panic was all over Katherine's face. He was serious. She knew it. "She got to you," she said.

"Katherine..."

“No, no.” She started pacing. "How does she always ...? How could you do this?"

"Don't go after her.” Stefan’s tone was weary and Katherine’s eyes darkened with rage when she saw that his eyes were emotionless. 

"I've already killed you twice,” he said. “I can do it again. Do not go near her. I will stake you." 

“You've made that threat before," she said, uncertainty a tremor in her tone.

"I will behead you," he said matter-of-fact. "I will set you on fire. I will let the sun burn you, Katherine, if you touch her."

Still, a shred of hope flickered in her chest. She could still turn this into a game, make it into a power play.. She just had to get under his skin in the exact right way.  "So much anger,” she said with a hint of a seductive grin. She trailed a finger down his chest. “I bet you’d love to bury your stake in me.”

"No," he said dispassionately. He didn't even bother to move her hand away. "No enjoyment, no rage, it will just be because you hurt her. It will just be for her."

Katherine’s eyes reddened. She gritted her teeth.

“I should rip you to fucking shreds.”

“How long did you think I could keep doing this?”

“STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE I’M A STRANGER. I AM NOT A STRANGER TO YOU.”

“Oh no, we are intimately acquainted,” Stefan agreed. “That’s why I know it needs to be done like this.”

“I never knew that loving Elena made you cruel,” said Katherine waspishly.

Stefan sighed. “What, you want me to hold your hand? Shed a tear for you? Go through all the darkness, all the trauma that got you to this point, that got me to this point? Tell you I understand, tell you it’s not your fault? That’s what you want?” He said, raising his eyebrows. “Because I think I did that already, Katherine---”

“OK---”

“--- and then you threw it back in my fucking face and jumped into Elena’s body.”

Katherine grinned. “There’s that anger.”

“It’s not what you think,” he said. “I’m just making a point.”

“And now let me make mine. I won't let you do this to me. You understand that, right? You understand that I will not let you go. I never have.”

"I’m not doing this with you. Leave, Katherine. Peacefully," said Stefan, heading toward the door. "Today."

She’d screamed after him. "I will fucking kill you before I let you leave me!” 

Stefan stopped in the doorway and hung his head. He turned back around, his expression dejected. 

"Do what you need to do," he said. "Just don't touch her. And don’t think you can kill me and then hurt her because, if you do, I will come back from whatever hell you send me to. Leave her out of this."

And then he’d left.

Stefan looked at Elena and cleared his throat. “It was time.” 

Elena rubbed her eyes in disbelief. There had to be more, there had to be a reason. "You were in so deep. You---"

"Elena, do we really have to..."

"How did you...why did you..."

"I saw you ..." He closed his eyes. And he saw Elena in the cottage with Bonnie and Caroline, sobbing into their arms, devastated and heartbroken. He hadn’t meant to see it. 

But he’d been out in the woods himself, running, hunting, doing anything he occupy his mind, and he’d heard her from a distance. He reacted before he could think and in a manner of seconds, he was outside the old cottage.

He would never forget that like he would never forget the way she looked at him, teary-eyed and completely undone, that night on Wickery Bridge; expressions that would haunt him for his eternity. It clarified him in a way that nothing else had.

"You were in hell," he said. "I couldn't just..." His voice choked and he sighed, bending his head. "You were in hell," he said again, more firmly, as he stood up.

Elena watched Stefan walk away and was oddly overcome with emotion. The gratitude she felt toward him, the love that she felt for him because he loved her enough to let Katherine go, because he loved her enough, because he had always loved her enough to do anything for her only served to underscore that he’d given up something he’d wanted, something he’d wanted terribly; something he shared with Katherine. The thought of her in his head, in his heart, the thought of her as a sacrifice dizzied Elena with a disorienting jealousy and an aching indignation that Katherine possibly gave him something their relationship never did.

"I slept with Damon!” she blurted out.

Stefan stopped walking. He turned back around. When Elena came to the Boarding House, she didn’t know if she was going to tell him that, she didn’t know what she was going to say beyond questioning him about Katherine and her impulsivity made her look at him defiantly. 

He cleared his throat. "You two are back together?"

She shook her head. "No. I just felt like it."

He nodded. "OK, well, that's not really---"

"We woke up my entire dorm,” she continued conversationally. “We were so loud we didn't even hear the pounding on the door."

Stefan was quiet. Still. He looked to be focused on something Elena couldn't see. She wondered if he was breathing. When he got like this, he reminded her of sculpted marble. She pushed further.

"I rode him so hard into the mattress, it broke the be---" 

"Why are you doing this?"

He was looking directly at her now with no accusation in his eyes, just sheer pain. It made her want to go to him, put consoling hands on him. She folded her arms. She was hurting him back.

"Well, we're telling each other about our sex lives now---"

"No," said Stefan, shaking his head. "I never wanted to tell you what happened between me and---"

"I thought you should know about the headache I have because I kept knocking into the headboard. Well," she said. "Before we broke it."

Stefan nodded then continued to walk, which caused anger to swell in Elena's chest. Anger that made her walk after him.

Anger that  pushed her over the emotional edge she'd been teetering on for weeks. 

"You're just going to walk away?" She accused. "Is that all you do?"

He stopped short then turned around. "What does that mean?"

"After your summer with Klaus, when you came back, I told you I kissed Damon and you walked away. You found out we spent the night in a motel room and you didn't ask any questions." 

Stefan took a deep breath and started to walk away again, faster this time. Elena shadowed him into the living room. 

"I chose him---" She grabbed him by the arm and turned him around so he could look at her, so he could see her furious, determined face.

"I chose him after you gave me the cure and you just left town.” It was cruel of her to say that here, in front of the fireplace she’d made that choice. She didn’t care. “You just told me that you made Katherine go and I respond by telling you that I fucked Damon's brains out---" Stefan flinched, exhaled sharply, and broke free from Elena's grasp then continued to walk. "And you run away!" She screamed. "You're running away!"

Of course he was running away when he had --- "I have no right to feel anything, Elena."

Elena put her hands to her head and then picked up a lamp and threw it against the wall, making Stefan stop and turn to look at the damage.

"I don't give a fuck about what you have the right to feel, Stefan. How do you feel?"

No, she wasn’t hurting him back. She was pushing him. Testing him. Seeing if he loved her too much to show her what he showed Katherine, to feel with her what he felt with … … her. Her desperation to know was making Elena blunt and messy with her emotions. It had been making her messy with everything.

Stefan clenched his jaw, holding onto his composure. "You have every right---"

"Yes, of course. 'I have every right'. Always so patient!" She upturned a table, making his eyes widen. "God, you're so understanding, doesn't it ever get tiring? Don't you get tired?"

"What do you want from me? You want the fight?"

"Yes!"

"You want me to ask you if you did this just to hurt me?”

“Why not?”

“You want me to say that that isn't you? That you would never do that? Why?"

"Is that how you feel?"

"I feel like I don't get a say in what you do!"

"So you're not angry? You're just never angry with me?" Elena took a few steps forward. "The things that we've been through over the years, the things that you had to hear, that you had to see, it doesn’t affect you because you’re such a fucking saint?"

"Elena---"

"It has to. You have to be. Stefan, you must be so angry at me. How much anger do you have that you don't let me see?"

"That's not---"

"Hate me!" she yelled.

He blinked at her, a picture of confusion. "No," he said simply.

She was in front of him now, pushing him so that he staggered backwards. "You're a ripper, right?" She pushed him again. "Let in the rage." And again. Into a wall. Causing a dent. "Let it in."

"Stop it." 

"Why? It wouldn't be anything I hadn't heard before!"

He put his hand over hers when she moved to push him again, as if she wanted to push him through wood and brick, and he was suddenly looming over her. 

"I didn't mean any of that and you know that. You have to know that," he said, pained at the memory of every cruel lie he spat in her face when he'd been detoxing.

He wasn't angry. He was earnest and passionate and Elena loved him for it, she could never hate him for it, but in this moment, she could kill him for it.

"Why can't you get angry at me?" she yelled. "Katherine---"

"SHE'S GONE. None of this matters!"

"She enrages you."

Stefan gritted his teeth, thinking about the church, the blood, the lust, the shame, the regret. The sick hateful feeling in his stomach he had the morning after. All of the mornings after. The intoxication in that was corrosive. 

"You're not Katherine." He said firmly. "I have never linked you to Katherine. You've never made me feel what she has! She's out of my life. She's out of our lives! We don't have to do this!"

Elena glared at him, a mixture of fury and pain. She felt something shift, tilting her off-balance, stripping away more and more of her composure. 

“You still want her, don’t you?"

“What?” 

“You didn’t send her away because you wanted to---”

“Elena---”

“I heard you in that church! Yeah, I was there! All of your confessions, all of your desires!”

“That’s not---”

“God, you still want her! More than you have ever wanted me.”

Stefan looked sharply at her. The sentiment was too incomprehensible for a simple denial, it didn’t deserve any kind of acknowledgement. 

Elena was adamant. "I thought I was the one you didn't hide from but it's her. You don't hide that part of yourself from her."

Katherine had done everything in her power to destroy him, and Elena had done everything in hers to help him was never, could never, be that. She knew that. She had to know that.

"Don't do this."

"You relish that side of you with her."

Stefan was beside himself. "There's only that side of me with her!"

"Then give that to me!' She was inconsolable. "You owe that to me!"

No, this was enough. Stefan put his hands on either side of her face and she inhaled sharply the feel of it. 

"Elena? Elena! Look at me. Look at me." His tone was frenzied and anguished. "I could never hate you."

And her doing her best to make him try was painful in a way he would never be able to truly articulate. "I could never feel---"

Elena was trembling. She couldn't feel his touch. She moved away. "I'm telling you to."

"No," he said flatly.

"I want you to."

"No."  

He started to walk out of the living room, but Elena grabbed his arm, keeping him in place and it caused a tormented sob in his chest. He was overwhelmed by her refusal to give up, let go.

"What did you do with her that you couldn't do with me?" 

Something turned in her expression. Why was she goading him? Why was she so insistent on this? "Not this." His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"You want me on my knees like her?"

"Stop it." He closed his eyes.

"You want me to beg like her?"

"Elena, stop."

"It wasn't enough for you. We weren't enough for you." She was more than angry, she was near-crazed. It scared him. "You want to be savage with me like you were with her?"

"Please." 

"Own me like her?"

"Please stop."

Without warning, she took his hand and put it on her neck. "If you were to put a hand around my throat the way you did with her ---"

Stefan erupted with horror and desperation. "STOP IT." He held her by the arms. "JUST STOP! STOP." 

"If this is because you actually do love her---"

His mouth was on hers before she could finish her sentence and she whimpered from the shock of it.

Stefan pinned her against the wall, kissing her with a furious, desperate passion. He was clutching her, gripping her. His hands found the dips and shallows of her body, massaging her, feeling her. He was kissing her cheek, her neck, her eye, her forehead, so that she gasped and quaked and each of his touches asked again and again, Does it feel like I love her? Elena, tell me. Does it feel like I love her?

And when she moaned in response to his wordless question, when she bowed to him, sank into him, making helpless, needy noises, he moved to leave, confident that he’d made the depth of his point, of his feelings clear, but Elena kept him to her, refusing his departure and desperate for more.

She could get lost, oh God, she would've gotten lost in him if it weren't for this feral urgency and impatience clawing at her.

She didn't know if it was the vampirism, if it was the weeks of torment, but she had this need that was territorial and possessive and primal and raw. She bit his lower lip then sucked and Stefan put his hand on the small of her back, bringing her forward, pressing her into him and she felt the evidence of his desire. Had he done this with Katherine? Bring her to him so he could feel her body against his, so his arousal, his lust for her could drive her crazy? Had that driven him wild? The thought of that ---

Veins darkened Elena's face. Suddenly, she bit him, sinking her fangs into his neck, making him call out and convulse. He pressed her even tighter to him then pressed her back against the wall, leaving no room for escape, He grinded into her as she drank, as she clutched the back of his head, gripping his hair. She fumbled with his shirt, scrambling to rid him of it. She wanted it off. Off. And then her hands were all over him rough and greedy and jealous. Katherine had touched him here, kissed him everywhere, and if it were the last thing she did, she was going to rewrite the history of his body with touches and kisses of her own. She skated her lips across his chest, nipping him, biting him, marking him so he pleaded with strangled sounds, but she wanted him to regret everything, everything that had happened in the past couple of months.

Stefan was torn between the pleasure of Elena’s lips claiming his body and the impatience to once more feel them against his, and he brought her back up to him with reverent, rough hands so that he could kiss her again, moaning into her mouth, as they made their way, clumsy and drunk, to the couch. Suddenly, he wrenched away from her, his expression aroused and raw and pained.

“It’s too soon.” He was shaking his head frantically. “This is too soon.” 

“What are you talking about?” said Elena, breathlessly. She crossed her hands at the hem of her shirt and peeled it off in haste, and what little resolve there was in Stefan’s expression crumpled at the sight of her. “It’s been a lifetime.” 

He didn’t move when she walked up to him. She slipped her hand beneath his waistband so that he squeezed his eyes shut and stuttered when he spoke.

“It’s -- It’s too much,” he said. 

And Elena understood. He hadn’t forgiven himself for the arguments they had, the things she’d pushed him to say.

 “Stefan,” she said, as she continued to feel him and please him, her touch an indication of her forgiveness, of the fact that there was nothing to forgive.  “Come home.” 

He exhaled sharply and then he was kissing her everywhere, feeling her everywhere, embracing her so tightly, pressing her into him so firmly, as though he wanted them to physically meld. He lifted her onto him and sat on the couch so that they were entwined. His face was buried in her and he whispered against her skin, “I’ve missed you.”  

Elena shivered and sighed dreamily. “I---”

Fire. Sudden fire. Spreading everywhere. Fast. Impossibly fast. From nowhere, from everywhere. Quickly, Stefan and Elena disentangled, terrified and confused. Flames engulfing the carpet, the tables, the walls. 

“Run! RUN!”

Stefan took Elena by the hand and they sped out of the room. 

Katherine heard the yelling from within the Salvatore Boarding House and she smiled grimly at the panic, the fear. Stefan could not be surprised. She’d warned him. Repeatedly. And yet, she knew he thought she was making empty threats. Time and time again, he and Elena, and Damon, and everyone, they’d underestimated her. Time and time again, they’d forgotten her reach, the friends she’d made, the people she’d had in her debt. They’d forgotten that she’d been alive for centuries. If she wanted a witch, she’d find one. If she wanted vengeance, she’d get it. If she wanted Stefan, she’d have him.

It took him a day to get to Mystic Falls but the witch she’d once spent the night with, the witch who had pledged to be there for her always, no matter what, had come when she’d called in a favour. And now he was here. Next to her. He spelled all the exits shut. He brought the fire to life. He helped her with her vengeance. 

“It’s like I said, Stefan,” she spoke, knowing that even with all of the commotion, he’d be able to hear her. “If I can’t have you, no one will.”

[philtatosbuck]

the thing about the thing is that any klaus ship makes more sense than kl*roline and those people have to act like that to compensate. and i do mean literally any klaus ship.

the originals edition? klaurora ate. would've done great things if not for elijah. klamille? ain't everyone's cup of tea but it still makes more sense for klaus to have an interest in her than that other blonde girl at the very LEAST from a psychology aspect and to get at marcel and kieran. klayley? even if the only thing they Ever did was hate fuck, it still would've been more in character. klaus and lucien, klaus and genevieve, all of them make at least some sense from a narrative point of view.

tvd? klaus and elena? would've been a dark and twisty ass romance, but would've been great to witness. klaus and bonnie? not only would it have been eagerly accepted, but it was WANTED by the actors too. klaus and katherine? c'mon. (if you come to me about 'he killed her family!!' i'm sorry but i do not care they would've been so fucking funny). klaus and stefan.

even in the fucking BOOKS, klaus and vivianne were so, so much better. it's just.

like i'm SORRY but no matter what other ship it is kl*roline falls flat. he liked her because why? he has a weird complex about his sister and he wanted to assert dominance over tyler. there was literally no other reason for that man to give a shit about her.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

The Vampire Diaries (2009-2017) / The Dreamer Trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater (2019-2022)

[s8tnn]

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[mikaelsonincorrectquotes]

Y/n: Go fuck yourself, Katherine!!!

Katherine: Oh, I will. And I’m going to think about you the whole time. *winks*

Elena, literally in the middle of biting a sandwich: What the fuck-?