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star-girl-05 · 4 months ago
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My Darling Blood Bag
Kol Mikaelson x Reader
~★~❤︎~✦~
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“I’m never going to finish if you keep distracting me.” For the last ten minutes Kol has been kissing all over your neck. Continuously distracting you from your homework. 
“I can’t help myself darling, you’ve been focusing on that stupid piece of paper all evening. Im beginning to feel neglected”, he tilts your head towards him placing a deep kiss on your lips. Though before you can get too lost in the kiss you push him away.
“If I get a bad grade on this stupid piece of paper my mom will kill me” Kol dramatically sighs, turning your chair around so he can face you. 
“I’ll compel you an A”, now that was an enticing offer. You’ve been working on this assignment for the last hour and a half, and have barely made a dent in it. It’s also due tomorrow so that was just making you more anxious. So you could either continue to struggle trying to finish or you could pay attention to your charming boyfriend. The choice is obvious
Your assignment is long forgotten as Kol tosses you on the bed, a large smirk on his face. “Finally now you’re all mine” he nuzzles his head into your neck, placing soft kisses against your neck. The soft kisses turn harsher before he finally sinks his teeth into your skin. 
This was Kol's favourite activity… well second favourite. He’s constantly telling you that your blood is the sweetest thing he has ever tasted, and you have no complaints. You absolutely love the feel of Kol drinking your blood. The soft feel of his lips on your neck combined with the pain of his teeth sinking into your neck, it’s just so intimate. You never get enough of the feeling.  
“Noo, not yet” You whine when he pulls away, grabbing at his shirt trying to pull him back. 
He chuckles his hand wrapping around your throat to push you against the bed. “Darling, do you want me to drain you dry?” his teasing tone makes you pout. Kol was always playing with you, it’s something you both love and hate about him. “Aww don’t pout, my little blood bag” You roll your eyes at the nickname though instead of commenting you pull Kol in for a kiss, one he’s all too happy to accept.
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mrs-kmikaelson · 1 year ago
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Braver Together
(Should've Known Better Part Two)
Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x reader, Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Mikaelsons x sister-in-law!reader, Hope Mikaelson x mother-figure!reader Summary: Ever since your heart was broken, you became scared of love altogether, but then the most unexpected thing happens and you realize that there was no point in being alive if you weren't living. So you force yourself to face your fears and start being brave... with some help, of course. Warnings: very long, mentions of cheating, angst (with more fluff tho imo), complicated relationships, death, ofc violence, and i totally bend the tvd-originals timeline Words: 10.6K
Masterlist
a/n is at the end of the post.
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When you accepted Klaus’ proposal a thousand years ago, you could’ve never imagined that your life would end up the way it would. For a long time, you were happy, maybe even the happiest girl in the world. It didn’t matter if your family was dead—the Mikaelsons became your family. And for a while, that was fine with you, but now it just felt like torture to be with them every single day.
But you supposed that you signed your life away when you married your husband.
His infractions amazed you, but you still didn’t leave him, even when every bone in your body begged you to. It was the little things, like watching Hope smile as she opened presents on Christmas morning, that made you feel like it was worth it.
You had grown attached to her. While you still weren’t the best of friends with her mother, you remained civil for her. After all, you were both stuck in this family with no way of escaping, so you found it pointless to continue to ignore her.
Klaus, however, was much more deserving of your ignorance, but like Hayley, you pushed that to the side. Your feelings didn’t matter when their child was involved. Even though you weren’t her mother, Hope felt like a daughter to you. Her name was so fitting; she really was this family’s last hope, and she was definitely yours.
Over the years you had, you managed to mend your relationship with Rebekah, even if it was never really the same as it was before. You were no longer running around Chicago together, dancing the night away, but now you had responsibilities to care for and hurt in your hearts. Rebekah had always been a child of sorts, but coming back to this city forced her to grow up. In a way, you supposed you did, too.
Elijah and you were better after that talk you had that one Christmas Eve, not as good as before, but better, and for the time being, that was good enough.
Sometimes, as you were playing with Hope in the living room, your siblings surrounding you, you lied to yourself and pretended you were a family again. But you knew better now. You’d been here before already.
But then something happened, something that almost made that lie feel real.
You walked into the Abattoir with a wide smile on your face, a sight that’d become rare to see. But when you were with Hope, it was impossible for the corners of your lips not to go up. She was giggling at something you said, but, looking back, you couldn’t even remember what it was.
There were shopping bags in your hands. You just took her out to get clothes for her first time at school. You were expecting to see the family seated on the couches, prepared to watch her “runway” her new wardrobe.
Instead, you were met with an apparent crisis. Rebekah sat on the couch, hand cupped over her mouth in shock, tears in her eyes. Hayley stood off to the side, glancing in between Elijah and Klaus, the former staring pointedly at an unknown man whose back was turned to you and the latter with his arms crossed, also staring at said man.
At your entrance, Hayley looked over to you, seeming to let out a breath, as if she was thankful to have a reason to leave the situation. “Mommy, mommy!” Little Hope waved Hayley over, even though she was already walking in your direction. “Me and Auntie Y/N/N bought pretty clothes! Wanna see?”
“Yes, sweetheart, just after your father and Uncle Elijah work this out.” She picked the child up, glancing your way with a sort of warning in her eyes, nodding over to where the rest of the family stood before she looked back to Hope. “For now, why don’t we get you in the bath?”
Hope groaned in protest, making you smile in amusement, but Hayley paid no mind to this, taking her upstairs. Your smile was immediately wiped away. The look the werewolf gave you suggested that something was going on, something she didn’t want Hope to be apart of. The rest of the Mikaelsons hadn’t taken their attention off the man they were staring at for even a second, worrying you.
So, you placed the shopping bags you were holding down next to the gate, walking towards them with your arms held out. “What’s going on?” You asked, but no one turned to answer you. Your brows furrowed. Just as you were about to ask again, the mystery man turned around and it was like the wind was knocked out of you instantly.
Standing right in front of you was no stranger. It was Kol Mikaelson.
For a moment, you almost forgot how to breathe. He gazed at you tenderly with an indecipherable look in his eye. Before you could get to even trying to figure it out, you jumped out of your shock and engulfed him into a tight hug that he quickly reciprocated. Tears leaked out of your eyes for the first time in years.
After a minute, you pulled away, patting his arms and looking him up and down, like you were trying to figure out if he was real. He looked just like Kol, just like your Kol. You pinched yourself, causing the man to let out a small chuckle.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he said, and you were gobsmacked because that was his voice, his voice that you hadn’t heard in years. As you realized this was real, that this was really Kol, you pulled him in for another hug. 
Kol was the one to pull away this time, cupping your cheeks with his hands and wiping your tears away. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, trying to find the right words to use, trying to figure out what you even wanted to say. When he died, you felt like there was so much left unsaid, but now you didn’t know where to start. “How- how are you here?”
He softly smiled at you, so different in comparison to the usual Mikaelson smirk that you were used to. “I’m going to explain everything.”
All of a sudden, you heard a throat clear, reminding you of the others in the room that you’d somehow forgotten about. You looked behind Kol to see Elijah, straightening his cufflinks. “Yes, it appears that we all have a lot to discuss,” he remarked, almost looking uncomfortable. You then glanced to Klaus whose jaw was clenched. Rebekah was still in the same exact position as before, expressionless.
Kol guided you to the couch next to her, telling the brothers they should sit, too. And then he told you all the story of a lifetime.
You listened intently as Kol explained how he was alive. He said he had been on the other side, watching all of you every day. Hearing this made you tense as you wondered what he could’ve possibly seen or heard; you were embarrassed that he might’ve seen how Klaus treated you and how you stayed, but your mind didn’t linger on the subject for long as he continued with his story.
He said the other side started to fall apart, all thanks to the travellers and their sociopathic leader, Markos. You were surprised he was even real; when you came across travellers in the past, you thought they were insane, but it turned out that they actually had real power, enough to bring down a supernatural purgatory that had existed long before even your time.
Kol then said he went back to Mystic Falls after a witch told him that Bonnie Bennett had taken the place of the other side’s anchor. He explained how, following Stefan’s death, the scooby gang engaged in a plan to bring him and their other fallen friends back. 
“So I was stuck with my life in the witch’s hands.” He suddenly looked to you. “She refused at first, but when I mentioned you, she eased up and decided to let me through.” For some reason, this information made you freeze. You were stuck staring into Kol’s eyes until he eventually looked away, making you shake your head. “Whatever you said to her, Y/N, may have just saved my life.”
You knew what he was referring to. Long ago, when you were still in Mystic Falls, before Klaus cheated and before Kol died, you gave the Bennett witch some advice you thought she’d find useful. You told her not to let people walk all over her, to start living for herself.
How ironic was that?
It seemed that neither of you had followed this advice, though, because Bonnie was still stuck putting her life on the line for her friends and you still lived with your husband and his family.
Both of you were doing things that’d kill you eventually.
Maybe it already did.
After Kol’s story, you were all worn out, like each of you had lived through it yourselves. Even though you were exhausted, you were still ecstatic that Kol was alive, that your wishes had come true. When Rebekah got over her shock, you could tell she was happy too, and even Elijah had a ghost of a smile of his lips. But Klaus didn’t look as happy as you would’ve thought he’d be.
You didn’t mind this, ignoring it altogether, refusing to let anything ruin your good mood. That night, you went to bed happy in a house full of Mikaelsons.
The next day, when Kol met Hope, the smile that was already on your face got even wider. Oh, they would cause trouble together, you thought. The three of you spent the week together, sometimes including one of your other siblings. And for the first time since you were with that boy, you felt human again.
You could’ve never imagined this turn of events, Kol coming back to life, Klaus’ child being your salvation. But no longer could you imagine any what ifs, any other life for yourself. You didn’t wonder and wonder about what would’ve happened if Elijah let you go, if Klaus never found you. If you got the chance to go back, you didn’t even know if you would’ve done it all differently. That was saying something, but at the moment, it all felt like it was worth it.
There were so many questions you had for Kol, so many qualms you still had with your family, but for that week, you ignored it all. You could only focus on the influx of pure happiness you felt. You started living like you weren’t a thousand-year-old Original whose heart was broken and like you were gonna die the very next day.
And it was liberating.
But you knew better than to think you could live in paradise forever.
You and Kol lied on the grass of some hill he’d driven you to. You were surprised he even still knew his way around the city, but he was always one to surprise you.
You just stared up at the stars together in silence, a comfortable silence that didn’t feel like it was suffocating you. It was just the two of you, no Klaus, no drama, no anyone. It was just you and the stars.
Out of nowhere, Kol broke the silence, his voice just above a whisper. “My brother doesn’t deserve you.”
Your breath hitched, turning your head towards him, but his gaze was still aimed at the sky. Your perfect little moment was suddenly invaded by the thought of your husband who you’d been unknowingly avoiding in conversation with Kol altogether. Maybe he noticed that.
Maybe he noticed the way you and Klaus no longer touched, even though you couldn’t keep your hands off one another the last time he was alive. Maybe he really was watching you from the other side, and that terrified you.
You knew Kol held you on a pedestal, even if neither of you would ever acknowledge that. He thought you were so good, so strong, so it killed you to think that he saw you when you were most vulnerable. It killed you to think that he knew all of his brother’s indiscretions and how you stayed, anyway.
You knew better than that—no, you were better than that.
Kol went on, “He never has-”
This time, you cut him off, the shock wearing off. “Kol-”
“No, Y/N.” He finally stopped staring up at the stars, turning to look at you. You were expecting the disappointment, but you weren’t expecting the raw anger in his eyes, an anger that’d never been directed at you. But you know it wasn’t. “You were always too good for that bastard, too good for this entire fucking family.”
You tried to stop him, but he kept going every time you opened your mouth. “Here you are, raising a child that isn’t even yours for his sake. Even after what he did to you, what he kept doing to you, you stayed—because that is just how loyal you are and how loyal he isn’t.” He started laughing, but there was no trace of humour in it. “You have no idea how much I want to sock him every time I see him.”
“Kol-”
“You know there’s nothing you can say to make this better, Y/N.” That shut you up. “I’m not going to let you spin this just to spare my brother the trouble.” Oh, how embarrassed you felt. Klaus cheated on you over and over again, yet you still felt the need to defend him. 
Things were okay with Elijah and Rebekah because, even though they were there, they weren’t really there. They didn’t know how bad things were between you and Klaus, how it ate you alive, not even Rebekah who watched you break down and isolate yourself. But Kol- oh, Kol saw it all.
You swallowed, looking back up to the sky. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.
Never had you been turned so fast. When your eyes met Kol’s, they were fierce, but his voice softened. “Don’t ever apologize for him. Never again, not to me- not to anyone.”
You swallowed a second time, losing your words as you just stared into his eyes. You hadn’t seen him in so long; you forgot how well he knew you, how he was able to read you like a child’s book.
But Kol had gotten more complicated to you. Whenever you were around him, there was a new look that’d surface in his eyes. This look was like a passerby that you didn’t know but had seen before, a friend of a friend. This was a look you could not decipher, and currently, he was giving you that exact look.
For a long while, the two of you just looked at each other as if you were the stars you’d came all this way to see. The only things heard were crickets and the cars from the city until Kol’s voice sounded.
“I should’ve never let him do this to you,” he said. And you didn’t know what that meant.
But it didn’t matter.
Because, seconds later, you both got up and drove away.
This night hadn’t dampened your mood. There were so many things to be happy for. Years ago or even a week ago, you were depressed beyond words, but Kol coming back had filled a hole you’d thought would never go away. So even though this conversation stung, you were still okay.
When you got back to the compound, you both pretended he never said what he said. Kol went back to being his playful self, making jokes, and you went back to laughing at them.
It was like you’d been given a miracle. You never thought you’d feel like yourself again, and you didn’t really, but it was so close, as close as you’d been in a long time. 
You didn’t feel so alone anymore.
Every day started being spent with either Kol, Marcel, Hope, or sometimes even Rebekah. Life was as normal as it had ever been, as sunny as you’d ever seen the world—at least as sunny as your life has been in decades.
Until it started to rain.
You were in the kitchen of the Abattoir, looking through the cupboards to see what you could make. While none of you had to actually eat, Hope did, and so it’d become a staple in the Mikaelson house to have dinner every night. These dinners stopped being so awkward after a while.
Hayley and Eijah were at some werewolf meeting, Rebekah had taken Hope to buy school supplies, Kol was roaming around, and you suspected Klaus was out causing some sort of mayhem. You assumed you were alone in the house, but you were proven wrong.
Footsteps sounded behind you; you sensed him before you even turned around. Even though Klaus and you had gotten to a point of pleasantness, that didn’t mean you enjoyed being alone with him. 
A few years of pleasantness couldn’t erase the thousand years you’d spent together.
“Love,” he greeted, pulling out a barstool and sitting down, the kitchen island separating you. You lightly inhaled, turning to nod to him in acknowledgement.
You kept rummaging through the kitchen, trying your best to ignore your husband’s presence. Oh, Klaus hadn’t felt like your husband in so long, but what else could he possibly be to you?
You were trying so hard to be friends with him, but could you really be friends with the man you were in love with for a millennium? With the man who had hurt you more than anyone else ever had? You didn’t have an answer to that.
The two of you sat in silence. There was a point in time where silence between you both felt like a warm blanket, comfortable and safe, but now it felt ominous, like the calm before a storm. With Klaus, there was always a storm.
Just as you placed your final ingredients on the counter, he caught you off guard and asked, “What are you doing with my brother?” You quickly spun around, widening your eyes and narrowing them in the same sequence. This was a question, but it felt much more like a challenge.
Klaus was impassive, but you knew better than to actually believe that. However, you mirrored his expression, anyway. “What do you mean?” you quizzed. You tried to keep your voice devoid of emotion, but you couldn’t help the bite of annoyance that seeped through.
He clearly noticed this if the tick in his jaw was of any indication. “You and Kol, Y/N.” Your brows furrowed at his vague explanation, causing his eyes to roll. “Come on, don’t act as if you’re surprised. You had to have known that I’d ask eventually. You’re my wife.”
He stared firmly into your eyes. No, I’m not your wife, you wanted to scream, but you bit your tongue. You hoped that your gaze said it for you, anyway. Instead, you scoffed, “No, Klaus, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to say something, but you cut him off. “I’m not sure what insinuation you’re trying to make, but you need to cool it.”
You were fed up, and you could feel an argument on its way. Klaus and you hadn’t argued in a long time, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have things you wanted to say to him. You held your comments in for Hope’s sake, but if he wanted to poke the bear, then you’d make sure that the bear poked back.
This time, he scoffed, his calm façade falling apart as he snarked, “Oh, please, you can’t possibly be so naive.”
“There is nothing to be naive about, Klaus—there’s nothing going on between your brother and me.” And if there was, it wouldn’t be your business, you wanted to add, but you weren’t gonna add more fuel to the fire. You didn’t even know why your mind went there in the first place.
“Perhaps that’s what you think, Y/N, but I’ve seen the way my brother looks at you-”
“He doesn’t look at me in any way.”
“Yes, he does- and you’re fooling yourself if you think he doesn’t.”
There was a door in your mind that Klaus had opened with these remarks, a door you’d been scared to even go near. But you closed it right away, refusing to wonder about it. He was wrong. There was nothing going on between you and Kol.
Your eyes hardened and you snapped, “I don’t have the time nor do I have the patience to deal with another one of your paranoid episodes.” He scoffed again, but you paid it no mind. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have dinner to make.” You turned around, not caring to see Klaus’ expression. You heard the barstool screech against the floor and then his angry footsteps as he left the kitchen.
And just like that, that opened door was slammed shut.
You tried your hardest to ignore Klaus’ words, telling yourself it wasn’t true, that there was no way it could possibly be true, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You and Kol had always been close, but there was nothing that wasn’t platonic there. 
Or maybe you were wrong.
You had given up on love so long ago. You gave your lover your heart without a second thought and he threw it to the ground like it was nothing, like it wouldn’t shatter everywhere, like it was possible for you to ever recover from that. And then when you try and find happiness, he rips that away from you, too.
Klaus had blown out any spark you had, leaving you alone in the dark.
Was love worth it if felt like this?
You didn’t know. These weren’t questions you asked yourself when you said “I do.” You didn’t know what to do anymore.
So you did what you always did, stuffing your feelings away and acting like nothing was wrong. But something changed. Whenever you saw Kol after that, you felt something—something you couldn’t explain, something you couldn’t name. It was like you had felt this before, but just never noticed it.
This feeling lurked in the background for a while until it was pulled back to the forefront of your mind when you least expected it.
“Bloody hell,” you muttered, storming into the compound with Kol following soon after. Your language was partly ironic because bloody you were. Of course, not your blood, but you hadn’t been in this state in at least a century.
Safe to say, you didn’t miss it.
You had just killed a horde of witches. They were good opponents, strong, but nobody was ever really smart if they decided to go up against the Mikaelsons. Nothing was stronger than family, even if it didn’t always feel that way.
They wanted to go after Hope, but you would never let that happen—none of you would. So you killed them- slaughtered may have even been a better word to use. Some of them had their hearts taken, their limbs ripped apart, stakes stabbed into their chests; your family could get creative.
Elijah, Hayley, and Klaus were dealing with the mess while Rebekah was tending to Hope. They didn’t need anymore man-power, so Elijah told you both to go home and clean yourselves up. He didn’t have to tell you twice.
“Seems that this family can never escape a bloodbath,” he joked.
“Ugh, disgusting. I need a real bath.” You spun around, a dramatic look on your face. Kol chuckled. He was more at ease than you were; he got a meal out of it, but you preferred quick kills, so now you were just annoyed.
“If you weren’t my brother’s wife, I’d join you.” His tone was light and playful, teasing even, but there was a glint in his eye that made you think he wasn’t completely joking. Your mind went back to what Klaus said to you, about the way Kol looked at you, then you thought about everything he did to you, how he just discarded your vows like they were meaningless. 
Maybe, if you hadn’t just come from a fight, you would’ve laughed it off, but you were tired of thinking about what Klaus wanted. 
You shrugged. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been his wife for a long time now.” You maintained eye contact with Kol as he paused. The playful atmosphere disappeared and was replaced with tension.
A beat passed before he slowly responded, “Y/N, what are you trying to say?”
What were you trying to say? You didn’t know if you could put it into words. So you stepped forward, hearing his breath catch in his throat, putting a hand on his bicep. “I think you know what I’m trying to say.”
Another beat. And then the next thing you knew, Kol’s lips slammed onto yours. You were sped upstairs, immediately ripping his shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. Yours came off somewhere in the mix. You could taste the leftover blood on his lips, not enough to satisfy you, but just enough to leave you wanting more.
You didn’t know what you were doing, but it felt good. You never thought you’d feel anything remotely like this ever again, but now that you had it, who knew if you could ever let it go?
Kissing Kol was like drugs. Ecstasy raced through your veins. You didn’t know if you had ever felt anything like this before; if you had, then how was it possible that you let it slip through your fingers? No, this was unlike any experience you’d ever had.
He suddenly pulled away, heaving. You reached to pull him back in, but he stopped you, breathing, “Are you sure that you want this?”
You didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes- you have no idea how badly.” This clearly sufficed because he was back to kissing you the second you stopped talking, hands going to unclasp your bra.
Oh, at that moment, you couldn’t give a damn what Klaus thought.
And Kol made sure you didn’t think about Klaus for the rest of that night.
Kol made it feel like your first time all over again, like everything you felt was new and foreign to you, but by the time you were done, your body was anything but foreign to him. 
After multiple rounds and showering, you laid in your bed tired. You couldn’t remember the last time someone else laid with you. Part of you thought that, for some reason, Kol would leave, but he stayed right next to you, holding you in his arms.
You only had sex, but this felt like so much more than that.
The only thing that could be heard in your room was the sound of your breathing. You didn’t want to say anything, to talk about it and be reminded that you were married. You just wanted to bask in this moment.
You don’t know how long you’d been lying in silence before Kol whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You turned your head toward him, but like that night on the hill, he kept his vision directed to the ceiling as if he was afraid what he’d see if he directed it to you. He hesitated. “I think I’ve felt something for you for years, centuries. Maybe- maybe I always have.”
Your heart nearly stopped. Not just because he was confessing to having feelings for you, but because maybe you did, too. But this was more than a confession.
Your response to this could determine your future, if there was any, with Kol. 
The rational part of your brain argued that this could never work, that Klaus would never let it happen, that this would only end in tragedy. You wanted to stop this before it became something more, but that other part of yourself, the part ruled by her heart, told you that it was too late for that. This was already something more.
You couldn’t let this go, not even if you wanted to.
You cupped his cheek, turning him to you. When his eyes met yours, you saw an emotion that Kol rarely ever showed, and that was fear. You wondered if he could see that you were scared, too.
You looked into his eyes for what felt like forever but was really only a minute. And then you decided that what you were feeling was more powerful than words, so you didn’t say anything at all, leaning in to kiss him. It wasn’t as fervent as before, now tender and soft but still with purpose. You weren’t too sure of what’d happen after this, once you woke up from this dream and got back to reality, but as you kissed him, it didn’t matter.
You were together. 
And for now, that was more than enough.
When you woke up, Kol was still there, right next to you. You could’ve stayed in bed together all day, but you weren’t normal people. You belonged to the least normal family and led the least normal lives. So you got up, reluctantly, and he went back to his room before anyone could find him in yours.
Then you walked downstairs, ate breakfast, and dealt with the effects of the your most recent problem. You were at Rousseau’s, about to meet with Marcel, when you were pulled into the bathroom, Kol’s lips immediately meeting yours.
The feeling of his lips soon became so familiar to you.
You wanted to be normal so badly, but you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t. So this became your new normal instead: stolen moments and glances, being together when no one else was around. 
Slowly, that feeling you had whenever you were around him was given a name. You don’t know if it was love, if it could even be that yet—but it felt dangerous, and exciting, and warm all at once. You felt it whenever you kissed him, whenever you looked into his dark brown eyes, and whenever he smiled. 
You were falling for Kol Mikaelson.
You constantly berated yourself, even though it felt so good. This was like alcohol, and drugs, and every other vice out there: it was temporary. The Original Hybrid was your husband—this was his brother. He wouldn’t let this happen.
This was wrong.
But it felt so right.
You had rejected every possible opportunity of happiness for years. Couldn’t you just have this one thing? Couldn’t you just let yourself be happy?
Oh, Kol made you happy. He brought out a part of you that you thought was gonna be gone forever. He made you feel like yourself again, like you were alive, like you had something to live for.
You had been living in black and white for so long that you forgot what it was like to live in colour.
Music filled the Mikaelson living room, music that the rest of the world would perhaps call old but never got old to you. Kol held you close to him, rocking you to the rhythm while your head rested on his chest. You were both very well versed in classical dances, but you didn’t need a big fancy dance for this to feel the way it did: special.
There was something going on—there always was—but, at that moment, that something didn’t exist. At that moment, it was just the two of you.
A small smile came to your lips. “You know, you weren’t even actually alive when this song came out.”
You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. “Yeah, and I’m glad. This song is terrible.”
You gasped, pulling away and hitting his arm. “Kol Mikaelson! Don’t you dare speak about Celine Dion that way.”
He laughed again, easily pulling you back to him and kissing the crown of your head. You tried pouting, but it felt impossible to do anything other than smile. “Don’t worry, darling. You like it, so I like it.” Your smile got wider, pulling back again but this time it was to kiss him.
You found that, when you kissed Kol, it wasn’t always so hot and heavy. It didn’t always lead to making out or making love. Sometimes, you just kissed because it felt good. It was soft, and gentle, and reassuring, and it felt good.
Maybe, if you were being honest with yourself, it felt better than anything else.
You pulled away after a few seconds, taking the time to stare into his eyes. You did it all the time and yet, every single time you did, it felt like the first time all over again. You could stare into his brown orbs all day long if you could. However, your lives didn’t allow for that.
But that just made little moments like these all the more special.
After a few seconds, he directed your attention away from his eyes, mumbling under his breath, “The song’s still shit, though.”
“Oh, shut up,” you scolded, but your head still made its way back to his chest, anyways.
Everyone else was back at the benefit. You were there, too, until you both decided to sneak away and go back home. That was cutting it close, definitely, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You didn’t get to go on dates or hold hands in public, so you were gonna grab these moments while you still could.
You knew that what you were doing was just prolonging an eventual- no, an inevitable outcome, but after everything you went through, you learned a few lessons. All good things came to an end—everything had to end at some point. Your marriage sure did, but that didn’t mean that you’d go back and change a thing. Yes, things with Klaus ended badly, but he gave you a thousand good years first.
So if what you were doing with Kol ended, then at least you had this. At least you had dances in the living room, and stargazing, and soft kisses.
Maybe this story wouldn’t have a happy ending.
But as long as you got a happy middle, then you were okay with that.
And he did everything he could to give you just that. 
It felt… different, to be with someone other than Niklaus, but it was a good different. It felt good to smile and to actually mean it. And it made you wish for something more, to be more than just two people engaging in a forbidden love affair, but that’s what this was, wasn’t it?
But Kol made it feel like it really was more than that. He made you feel like a diamond, like you were beautiful, like everything that had weighed down on you only made you that much stronger. 
This was more. This was so much more than you could’ve ever hoped for.
You were lying in bed together late at night when it happened. You weren’t expecting it- you weren’t sure if you ever expected it. But Kol was always one to do the unexpected, surprise you and keep you on the edge of your seat.
Yet, when he spoke, he didn’t sound so dauntless. He sounded small and afraid, but at the same time, you could hear the hope in his voice. Hope, courage, bravery—at the end of the day, it was just called Kol.
He was always brave enough for the both of you.
“I love you.”
Your breath hitched, turning to see that he was already staring at you. The déjà vu hit you hard. Here you were, in the same position you’d already been in with him, but this time, he looked right at you.
Brave enough for the both of you.
You didn’t say anything. You wondered if you were dreaming, hallucinating, imagining things, if this was some cruel trick of the mind. But, the longer you stared and the longer he stared right back at you, the more convinced you became.
This was real.
This was real.
You wrapped your arm around his neck, pulling him in and connecting his lips with yours. Butterflies still erupted in your stomach, even though you had been at this for a while. You put your everything into this kiss, but Kol deserved more than everything.
This scared you, but Kol had given you so much. He didn’t need to be the brave one all the time.
You wanted to be brave, too.
So when you finally pulled away, resting your forehead on his, eyes closed, you whispered back, “I love you.” 
You and Kol were brave together, braver together. Yeah, there were dragons out there so much more powerful than you, but you could slay them together. Maybe it would’ve been safer to just stay away, to just tuck yourself away in a castle and avoid the dragons altogether, but what was the point in that?
What was the point of being alive if you weren’t truly living?
And you were living.
Everyone around you could see it. Your change in behaviour was unusual, but it lifted everyone’s spirits. You were starting to be able to actually hold a conversation with Rebekah, and you were starting to be able to talk to Elijah about things other than the family’s latest conflicts. You were even starting to be a little more friendly with Hayley.
You didn’t tell her, but a part of you was thankful for what she did. She knew who you were when she met Klaus; she knew he was married, and she still slept with him. This had previously enraged you, but now you couldn’t help but feel relieved.
Had she not done what she did, you may have never had this with Kol.
And Hope would’ve never been born.
Oh, you would do anything for her. This family may have been cursed, but you were all willing to do whatever it took to break the cycle. No more running, no more instability. No matter how dysfunctional you all were, you would give her that.
She was never alone. When her parents weren’t there to bring her or pick her up from school, you were. And if you weren’t, then Kol was, or Rebekah, or Elijah, or Marcel. The odds were against you from the start, but you were all there to flip them. 
For her.
You were always happy with Hope, but even she could tell that something had changed. She was a child, but she was bright, and she knew you were happier.
The relationships in your life blossomed. Klaus was the only person that this didn’t happen with.
You loved Kol—you were in love with Kol, but loving him didn’t skew your memory. Klaus and you had a long history. You still couldn’t look at him without picturing it.
It was easier to be more forgiving of Hayley. She wasn’t the one who vowed to be faithful to you, nor was she the one to cheat on you three times or give up on your marriage. He was. You couldn’t see yourself letting go of that. Maybe one day, but being around him wouldn’t speed up that process.
Klaus was actually the last person on your mind.
But that didn’t seem to be the case for him.
You were on your way out of the compound when something caught your eye. You stopped, turning to see your husband by himself in an empty hallway. It appeared that something had caught his eye, too.
He was so focused that he didn’t even see you. You could’ve pretended not to see him, walked away and gone on with your business, but you knew what he was looking at. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t look at it every once in a while, too.
Yes, you could’ve walked away, but the easy thing was never easy for you to do.
So you walked up to him, leaving a foot between you and looking at what had captured his attention. It was a portrait, and a familiar one at that.
The truth was, you’d studied that portrait until it was engraved into your memory. Even when you weren’t looking at it, it still came and found you in your dreams and even when you were just sitting around and thinking.
It was you. It was you, and Klaus, and Rebekah, and Elijah, and Kol. Before he died, before Hayley, before this godforsaken city. It was when things were calm, when you still had some sort of semblance of family. Or at least that’s what it was supposed to be.
Because it wasn’t real.
You never got together for this portrait. This time didn’t exist. It was fake. Niklaus was such a wonderful artist that he almost made you believe it, but it wasn’t real. He could paint you all so realistically, make you look so happy, but when was the last time you were all happy as a family? It was never in these clothes, never in this age.
But he made it look real.
He made it look like you were all picture-perfect, like his brother didn’t bring you to your end, like Rebekah never lost her mind, like Kol was never murdered, like you were never out crying in the rain for a man who would never change, like he was a man who could change.
Who knew that such a happy picture could evoke such sadness. Because this portrait wasn’t what was— it was what could’ve been.
Klaus broke the silence with a voice you would’ve never heard without enhanced hearing. “I really did love you.” Neither of you turned to face the other. “I really do love you.”
Not too long ago, you would’ve started crying. And while tears did build in your eyes, you smiled first. You didn’t doubt that. It didn’t take you long to respond, “So did I.”
1996, when you left, when you came back, when he cheated again, when you found out he was having a baby, when he killed Leo, when you stayed, when you took Hope. All of this flashed before your eyes, but it wasn’t all you saw. You also saw your wedding, your first time, when he painted you as you slept, when you got drunk together, when he cooked for you, when you kissed on the beach at night all by yourselves. You saw how happy he made you and how easily he just took it away from you.
You would never forget these things, none of it. You would never forget the bad, but you would never forget the good, either.
He lightly chuckled as if he was remembering all the same things as you. And then, for a while, you both just stood there, staring at the painting. There was a time when you could practically read his mind, but now you had no idea what he was thinking.
You were different people now. You weren’t the same people who went through the good, nor were you the same people who went through the bad. You weren’t the same people you could’ve been in that picture, either.
And he knew that, too.
“I’m never going to be your husband again, am I?” He mused, but this wasn’t a question. You both already knew the answer, even if you hadn’t said it out loud to each other.
“No.” You shook your head, opting to look down at your boots. “No, you’re not.”
Maybe you were imagining it, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw him wipe at his eye. Suddenly, a part of you felt bad, but not for him. You felt bad for the boy you fell in love with, the boy who gave you humanity even when he had lost his own. And you felt bad for the girl who kissed him at the altar.
So, against your current feelings, you turned and swiftly wrapped your arms around him, hoping that you weren’t just hugging Klaus, but that you were hugging the boy you married all those years ago. He quickly hugged you back, holding you tightly, but his grip slowly lessened.
Like he was getting ready to let you go.
You don’t know how long you were in his arms, but eventually he pulled away. You could finally see his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and how they were filled with tears despite the smile on his face. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. You had both said everything you needed to say; there were no more chapters to write in this book of yours.
It was time for your story to end.
You let go of each other and you turned around, walking away without sparing that painting another glance. You were just at the edge of the hallway when he called your name, making you turn your head.
“Be happy with him,” he said, even though it looked like it annihilated him to say it.
But you didn’t question it. You just nodded, then you turned around and walked away. You didn’t need to ask him who he was referring to or have him explain any further. You understood perfectly.
You would.
You were gonna be happy with him.
And just like that, the Original Hybrid and the Mikaelson Wife were done.
But who knew? You could very well become a Mikaelson once again if Kol got his way. You wouldn’t admit, just as to not inflate his ego, but deep down, you wanted him to get his way.
Slowly, the suspicions your other siblings had became confirmed. You weren’t overly affectionate in public, but they were able to put two and two together. Rebekah had been in love so many times that she was able to see it clearly on you, and Elijah was always the scholar amongst you, the smart one. Marcel saw it from a mile away. While he and Kol hadn’t always gotten along well, they were both willing to put that aside for you.
Even a child could see that you were in love; Hope did.
“Aunt Y/N/N, do you and Uncle Kol love each other like Belle and the Beast?”
You both simultaneously turned to her, along with everyone else in the living room. It was movie night; Beauty and the Beast had just finished, and Hope had asked you that question as soon as the credits were rolling.
She was just a kid who was curious. She didn’t know the potential outrage her question could cause.
But you weren’t gonna lie to her. You weren’t gonna deny what was possibly the best thing you ever had, even as your entire family was in the room.
“Hope-” Hayley had started to scold, but you cut her off.
“Hayley, it’s alright.” She didn’t look convinced and still looked embarrassed, but you turned back to Hope with a smile on your face. “Yes, sweetheart, Uncle Kol and I do love each other.”
She now looked confused, like your reply hadn’t cleared anything up at all. “But my daddy looks at you the way Uncle Kol looks at you.” You opened your mouth, but you didn’t know what to say. “Does daddy love you, too?”
It appeared that none of you had the answer to her question. How were you meant to explain your situation to a child, that you and her father had loved one another for a thousand years and then your relationship ended because he slept with her mother?
What you were least expecting happened. Instead of having an outburst, Klaus beckoned Hope over, petting her hair once she was sat on his lap. “Ah, my littlest wolf,” he sighed, but the corners of his lips were upturned. His eyes were slightly glazed over as if he wasn’t really there, but that look quickly disappeared. For Hope, he’d be present. “I wish that love was as simple to understand as Belle and the Beast, but it is much more complicated than that. Your Aunt Y/N has been there for me many times, and for that, I will always love her,” he professed. His eyes found yours for a moment, but he quickly looked back to his daughter. “But we love each other differently from how her and Uncle Kol love each other. We love each other as family, not as people in love with one another. But no matter what any of us feel for each other in this family, Hope, we will all always love you.”
Hope slung her arms around her father’s neck. “I love you, too, daddy.”
“Always and forever, little one.”
While Hope’s back was turned, your eyes met again and the corners of your lips quirked up slightly. You knew that must’ve been hard for him to say, so you mouthed, thank you.
He smiled back at you. Even though it was so obviously fake, you still appreciated it. He nodded in response.
Yes, you and Klaus had been through a lot. You all had complicated relationships with one another, Kol and you included, but you were gonna push that aside for Hope. Every time.
One day, you would explain it all to her, how Marcel was her brother but your son, why Rebekah was so soft and hard at the same time, why Elijah was so protective, why her parents weren’t together, how you fell in and out of love with her father, why you were still here, how you fell in love with Kol.
But for now, you were gonna let her hold onto her innocence for as long as she could.
Hope still had questions, but she also had all of you to distract her from all of the problems you dealt with. However, you were no longer consumed by all these problems. You had someone to distract you, too, and that was Kol.
Whether you were in bed together, kissing, or just holding hands, he always took your mind off your troubles. He was like a wizard, transporting you from reality and bringing you to cloud nine every day. The problems, the threats, the drama—none of it mattered to you. To you, being with Kol was enough.
If you could just have this for the rest of your life, then you’d be happy, and that is exactly what he wanted to give you.
Time passed in a blur. It was a true what they said, that time flied when you were having fun. Before you knew it, a year had passed since Kol first kissed you, since you started this. A perfect year, calm with minimal conflict both in the Quarter and in the Abattoir.
You could’ve passed many more years this way happily, but you were always one to accept less than what you were worth. Kol knew that, and he wanted more for you- more for both of you.
He wanted to do more than just take you to dreams away from reality.
He wanted to make those dreams come true.
“Kol, what are you doing?” You giggled, stumbling a little but never falling. Kol would never let you fall.
He hushed you, “Shhh, we’re almost there.” 
A blindfold was over your eyes as he guided you around. You got into the car together hours ago, and when you woke up, the blindfold was on. He said he had a surprise for you.
This was so cheesy, but you were a sucker for these kinds of things. You never thought you’d get to a place like this again, that you’d be a hopeless romantic or even just a romantic ever again after what Klaus did to you, but Kol made you believe in romance again.
He put your heart back together after you thought it’d been broken beyond repair.
Finally, after more stumbling and laughing, he stopped, holding you in place. “Okay, are you ready?” You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the excitement in his voice. You nodded. “Alright. Three, two, one-”
The blindfold fell to the ground and the sight he’d been withholding was revealed to you. Your brows furrowed. You were in a living room with beautiful floors and beautiful decor, a fireplace parallel to the big couch behind you. You looked around and saw incredible artwork hanging on the walls and gorgeous windows that let the moonlight in.
It was beautiful and all, but did you drive all this way to break into someone’s house?
You voiced your confusion. “Kol, what is this place?” You turned around to see him trying to hold back a smile, a twinkle in his eyes. He looked like a kid about to tell you that he saw Santa. That thought made you laugh. “C’mon, Kol, really. Where are we right now?”
“Well, geographically, we’re in North Carolina.” His explanation produced a gasp from you, making him laugh. He was having way too much fun having you in the dark.
“North Carolina?” you echoed. Your jaw was practically on the floor. “We’re in North Carolina? You’re kidding- that’s like ten hours away-”
“Thirteen, darling.” This didn’t get rid of your disbelief, though you doubt that was what Kol was aiming for, anyway. He shrugged, adding, “Well, I actually got it down to twelve, but that’s besides the point.”
“Trust me, the shocker for me is not your reckless driving-”
He cut you off by speeding to you, lifting up your chin so you were looking right into his eyes. Funny, how he was still able to make you speechless. “I’m going to ignore that jab at my impeccable driving skills because I love you.”
You snorted, “Sure, if impeccable means shit.”
He hushed you again, causing you to roll your eyes. “Back to your question,” he said, making you remember the topic of conversation. You wondered if he had any idea how easily he was able to make you forget about anything—about everything. “I drove us here because North Carolina is relatively… quiet.”
You raised a brow. “Quiet?”
“Yes.” He gently grabbed your hands, holding them in his. Sometimes, he did this absentmindedly, but you were never bothered. You were far from bothered. “Louisiana is perhaps the heart of the supernatural. New York and any other state with a thriving night life also has a thriving vampire population, and they’re busy enough with humans as it is. The big states always are. But North Carolina… North Carolina isn’t on any vampire’s bucket list.”
You drawled, “Okayyyyyy… but why are we here?” What he was saying made sense, but you didn’t get how it related to either of you.
He just smiled, so clearly amused by your confusion. “You amaze me, Y/N, truly,” he proclaimed, that same shit-eating grin on his face that you’d grown accustomed to. “Only you would take so long to get the hint.”
That was obviously a hint, too, but you weren’t catching it. Kol shook his head, getting that look in his eye that he got when he was remembering something. “You told me once that, if we weren’t who we were, you’d want to live somewhere without ruckus, like a normal person. But you knew that couldn’t happen with my brother’s aspirations.” Now he looked at you pointedly and, all of a sudden, a wave of realization washed over you.
Your eyes darted all over the house. There was a reason why you were so in love with it. You looked back to Kol, mouth agape. He continued, “You wanted a house that wasn’t just decadent, but a home.”
Tears welled in your eyes as your hand flew up to cup your mouth in shock. You could remember telling him that, but it was so long ago. You’d long since abandoned the idea, but here he was, offering it up to you. “You- you remember that?”
He leaned in to wipe a tear that you didn’t even notice had fell, caressing your cheek. “I remember every moment I’ve ever spent with you, Y/N.” His actions were pointless because his words caused even more tears to fall.
You had never felt such an overwhelming feeling, so in love, so loved. Your heart’s immediate instinct was to kiss him, to say yes, but your mind… you’d been through enough to know better. 
“How are we going to-” you stammered, “we can’t- we can’t just move away.”
“Y/N-”
“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, but-” your voice cracked. “we can’t just pick up and leave, Kol—you know that.”
He was now cupping both of your cheeks, staring so deeply into your eyes that you were sure he could see the parts of yourself that you’d tucked away. “Do you remember when I left Mystic Falls?” Of course, you did. How could you ever forget? “I asked you to come with me and you didn’t. Why was that?”
You didn’t want to answer, to relive this after you’d already agonized over it for so long, but you did, anyway. “Klaus. I didn’t go because of Klaus.”
“Exactly. You didn’t go because of that bastard, and you don’t want this now for the same reason.”
“Kol-”
He stepped closer when you thought he’d already closed all the space between you. His voice was soft and firm all at once. “I died thinking I’d never get the chance to tell you how I felt. I wasted so much time, worrying, unhappy.” He shook his head. “Well, I don’t want to worry anymore. I don’t want to waste any more time.” More tears fell, from both of you. “You make me happy, Y/N. I just want to be happy with you.”
A teary laugh escaped your lips. He made you happy, too, so much happier than you’d been in so long, so much happier than you even thought was possible after everything you’d been through. And he was right. Klaus was the one thing holding you back, but why should he get to do that?
You’ve given away years of your life for other people. Couldn’t you be selfish, just this once, and have this one thing for yourself?
You just wanted to be happy.
So you pulled him in and kissed him until you had to pull away for air, and when you did, you whispered, “Yes.”
And that may have just been the best decision you had ever made.
When you eventually drove back to New Orleans days later, you explained the situation to Klaus. He wasn’t jumping up and down with joy, but he surprisingly took it better than you expected.
You spent a thousand years with that man; saying goodbye wasn’t as easy as it seemed, but it needed to happen. It was time for you to go your separate ways. And even after everything he put you through, you still hoped that he could maybe find happiness one day, too.
Niklaus Mikaelson was your epic love, but you knew without a doubt that Kol was your true love. He was the warmth you’d been yearning for, and you were gonna let yourself have that.
North Carolina was the perfect place for you to settle down. It was quiet, like Kol said, with little to no supernatural population. It was also close enough to Louisiana that you could distance yourself from all the crazy but still get there if they needed you.
That’s what you told Elijah when you said your goodbye to him, that you were just a phone call away. He was gonna be the one running the show now, as always. He was always the responsible one amongst you, and you hoped that he’d let go of that and let himself live a little, too. As much as you didn’t like her, maybe he could get with Hayley one day or even find his own person.
You had hope that all of your family could one day be free of this Mikaelson curse, that they wouldn’t be bearing the hybrid’s sins for the rest of their lives. Rebekah was getting there. She was still growing up a little, and she all the time in the world to do that.
It was hard saying goodbye to Hope, but you just reassured her that this wasn’t goodbye. She’d always have a place in your home if she so needed it, and she’d definitely always hold a place in your heart. The only reason you felt okay with leaving her was because you knew she wouldn’t be alone; she had two parents that loved her more than life, a crazy aunt and uncle, and her big brother.
Marcel congratulated you with a wide grin on his face. He was elated for you, telling you that he’d be visiting you, to which you replied that he would always be welcome with you two.
Maybe you were just sentimental, but even saying goodbye to the city itself was hard, nerve-racking. It had given you so much, but taken so much more. You were learning, though, that love wasn’t supposed to drain you. You were learning to let go.
Goodbye, New Orleans, you whispered to yourself as you passed the town sign, and then you were saying hello to North Carolina… and also the new you.
Y/N and Kol Michaels. You got married not too far down the line. Of course, if you wanted to be normal, ditching the medieval last name was best. You supposed you could’ve kept it, but getting rid of it was more symbolic than anything.
You wanted to start over completely, and so that’s what you guys did. You weren’t abandoning your family, but making one of your own, too. Eventually, the idea of kids came up. You wanted nothing more than to raise your own child with the man you were in love with, but you couldn’t conceive a child and you didn’t want to drag one into this life, anyway. It was too dangerous.
The realization that you would never get to have kids broke your heart, but your lover repaired it like his words were glue. The two of you were together, and that was good enough for you.
Doing this, starting over, was scarier than any other situation you had ever been in—and that was saying something, considering how long you’d lived. But with Kol at your side, you were able to be brave. 
There was so much to be afraid of. You were scared that this wouldn’t work out, that this was only a happy middle with no happy ending, that you’d feel cold again one day after growing accustomed to the fire, but if all of that happened one day, then you decided that you’d be okay with it. You would be okay with it because at least you lived. You weren’t gonna let your fears stop you from doing that. If you just gave into your fears, then you would’ve never felt this feeling. You would’ve never fallen in love. You would’ve never found yourself again.
You owed it all to your bravery.
And you owed it all to Kol’s.
But together, you were fearless. Together, you were braver.
You were braver together.
Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade @hyperactivewhore @tnrthings @brooklynscherry-z @roselibrary @kollover24 @volturissideslut
a/n: sorry for the long wait, but here is part two! ik i said i was gonna do the thg fanfic first, but that one is long asf so i decided to drop this first. i tried my best to listen to all ur suggestions—unfortunately, i couldn't find a way to write in a pregnancy. but we've got a happy ending! i really, really, really did not want a happy ending, like i had a whole sad ending planned for the part 2 but everyone wanted happiness so i just decided to end it there to avoid to outrage lol. if u want a part 3 where it doesn't end there but ends the way it was supposed to originally, then tell me. and lastly, thank u all so much for all the support!
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a-writer-on-elm-street · 1 year ago
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Can I please ask for a smut Damon request using this picture. Imagine distracting Damon whilst he’s concentrating on a phone call to ric and he punishes you for being a naughty girl for interrupting his call and pins you to the bed . Sorry I’m just a very naughty minded girl when it comes to Damon 😜
Apologise
a/n: thank you so much for the request i loved writing this!! hope you enjoy! <3 (also, i'm so sorry it took so long)
pairing: damon x fem!reader
warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected sex
word count: 644
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You chuckle against Damon's skin, your lips dragging along his stomach as he squirms beneath you, his phone pressed to his ear.
You can hear Alaric's muffled voice coming through the speaker as you hook your fingers under the waistband of Damon's jeans, prompting him to curse at you under his breath.
But he doesn't make a move to stop you, only attempting to stifle a groan as he keeps his phone to his ear.
And you find yourself stifling a laugh when you hear Alaric ask if everything's okay.
"Yeah, Ric," Damon says, his voice strained as he squirms beneath you. "Everything's great. Nothing wrong here."
You find it all the more amusing by how hard he's trying to cover, despite the fact that he's practically groaning into the phone, one of his hands absentmindedly playing with your hair.
Once you manage to pull his pants off along with his boxers, you waste no time in wrapping your hand around his length, eliciting a startled sigh from him, his hips jerking into you from the contact.
"Are you sure you're okay?" You hear Ric ask him, and it makes you chuckle.
Damon glares at you as he speaks.
"Yeah, Ric, everything's fine." He assures him again, readjusting himself slightly beneath you. "But you know what, I uh─I might have to call you back."
Before you're even able to wrap your lips around him, he's threading a hand into your hair, pulling you up so that you're face to face with him now.
"Were you not aware that I was on a call?" He asks, pressing his mouth into a line as he looks at you.
"I was aware."
"Hm." He hums, twirling a finger through your hair. "What am I gonna do with you?"
Before you have a chance to offer him any suggestions, he's flipping you onto your back, his fingers snaking around your throat as he hovers over you.
"As much as I loved your hand around my dick." He smirks, his free hand trailing down your body. "You really shouldn't interrupt my calls like that."
"What're you gonna do about it?"
He doesn't offer you an answer, and instead you feel his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your jeans.
"Now, you've been a bad bad girl," he tuts, pressing a finger against you through the fabric of your panties. "And bad girls get punished."
You laugh. "And how is this a punishment?"
"Oh, you'll see." He smirks, sliding his hand inside your panties, his fingers swirling around your clit.
You sigh, throwing your head back into the pillows when he pushes a finger inside of you.
Except, he doesn't move, instead choosing to remain painfully still, a wicked smirk on his face as he looks down at you.
"Damon," you whine, looking down to where his hand had disappeared in your jeans. "Come on."
"What? I'm not doing anything."
"Exactly, you're not doing anything."
"What would you like me to do?" He asks, a knowing grin on his face as he moves his hand ever so slightly against you. "You want me to fuck you?"
"Yes," you sigh, nodding your head at him.
"Apologise."
"What?"
He smirks. "You interrupted my call. Apologise."
You continue to resist, shifting uncomfortably beneath him, but he won't let up.
"If you apologise," he says, slipping his hand out of your jeans now. "Then I'll give you what you want."
"Okay, I'm sorry," you finally say, giving in.
"That's right."
And with that, he's flipping you over onto your front, his hands already tugging your jeans off. And within seconds, he's inside you, already moving at a brutal pace as he holds you up, rough fingers digging into your ass.
"God," you moan, your mouth twisting into a smile as he fucks you. "I'm so so sorry. So sorry."
"And I forgive you."
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[Main Masterlist]
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frost-queen · 3 months ago
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Girl behind the glass window (Reader x Human!Damon Salvatore)
Requested by anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m,
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“Catch.” – Stefan called out, throwing the ball over to Katherine. Hoisting up her skirt, she took a run for it, catching the ball before it landed on the ground. Nearly making her loose her balance. Stefan flinched, ready to catch her if she would fall. Katherine giggling loud. She moved the ball down with a mischievous laugh. – “I bet you won’t catch this.” – she said throwing the ball away. Damon had his eyes on the ball, seeing it immediately fly over his head.
Jogging after it in an attempt to catch it before he saw it get tossed over the hedge. It made him slow down, panting brief. – “Wonderful.” – he gestured out of breath. Katherine came joining Stefan’s side. – “Well go on. Fetch it.” – she ordered with a motion of her hand. 
Damon looked over his shoulder to her. – “You serious?” – he asked to be sure since she was the one who threw the ball over the hedge. Katherine hummed loud with a nod of her head. Damon glanced over to his brother, who only shrugged his shoulders to him. Sighing loud, he started to make his way to the hedges.
“Do hurry up!” – Katherine called out, waving him goodbye. That made Damon sigh again, grabbing the hedge to climb over it. Grabbing onto greenery and sturdy branches to get across. Annoyed he puffed the leaves out of his face as they had come really close. With a few good pulls, was he at the top.
Letting himself roll over the hedge, disappearing out of sight. Losing his balance and grip, he tumbled down. Landing with a loud thud on his back. Making him groan chucklingly out of pain. Getting up to his feet, he brushed his pants clean. Removing all traces of ground and hedge. His gaze fell on the enormous garden.
Trees perfectly cut into shape. Up a head a fountain. Looking around for the ball, he went over to the fountain. Scooping a hand in to splash some water in his face. Patting his wet hand in his neck, he caught something in the corner of his eye. Up by the window from the mansion a few yards away. He saw the last of a curtain ripple, hinting someone must have been watching a second earlier.
It made Damon swallow nervously. Knowing very well he was trespassing. Backing away from the fountain, he brought his gaze down again. Searching low for the ball. Eyes not missing a thing. With his hand, he pushed into one of the trees, to see if the ball wasn’t caught in it. – “Where are you?” – he whispered out desperate.
Knowing each second longer spend here, was the more opportunity for the owner to come out and hold a riffle up to him. He had drifted away from the hedge he had crawled over. Knowing Katherine was waiting impatiently. Damon was close to just give up and return before he would get shot, when he heard knocking. Knocking on a glass window that caught his attention.
It was subtle. Not the loud thumping kind that would alarm him to take a run for it. More a soothing knock to get his attention. Damon turned around, facing the mansion. Furrowing his brows, he saw nothing but curtains closed behind the only available window in sight. Looking away, he scratched his head confused.
There it was again. Gentle knocks to catch his attention. He immediately turned around, seeing the last of the curtains ruffle. With a quizzable brow, he went over. Keeping himself low and out of sight. He neared the window in crouched position. Kneeling down under it as his gaze fell on the bush beneath the window.
There in its full glory was the ball that got tossed over. Intrigued, picked Damon the ball up. Someone clearly must have called his attention over to this place for him to find the ball. But who? Moving his gaze up, Damon got startled, seeing a pair of curious eyes peek through the curtains.
His reaction made the curtains move shut. Probably having scared the poor person. – “No, no…” – Damon whispered waving his hands across as he didn’t mean to startle them. He waited for the person to appear once more. When they didn’t, dared Damon to gently knock on the window at his side.
Two gentle knocks to get their attention. He waited a few more seconds before the curtain got moved aside. Just a bit for him to make out half a face. A sweet face. Clearly a girl. Damon showed you his sweetest smile, wanting you to reveal more of you. His smile made you smile bashful back, looking shyly down. Damon waved at you, hoping you’d become more comfortable with him.
You moved the curtains more aside, revealing you fully to him. You sat by the window, waving shyly back at him. Damon pointed at the ball under his armpit, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to you. You moved your hand to your chest. With one nod, you gestured to him it was alright. Damon curled up a smile, unable to look away from you.
“Do you want to play along?” – he asked, seeing how you furrowed your brows to focus on his wording through the glass. His words deafened out. As a response, you shook your head saddened. Damon’s gaze widened with shock as he saw you flinch. Look clearly to your side. Then your hands motioning for him to get away before the curtains got pulled closed.
Damon got up, stumbling back as he knew he’d be discovered if he’d stay. He started running back to the hedge. Throwing the ball over it, hearing his brother complain in pain. Probably the ball had hit his head. Followed by Katherine’s laughing. Damon grabbed onto the hedge, pulling himself up to get over. Swinging his leg over it, he lowered himself on the other side.
Jumping the last height down. – “Took you long enough.” – Katherine said unamused, faking a yawn. – “Couldn’t find it.” – Damon replied picking up the ball. The three of them started to move away from the hedge, more into Katherine’s garden. Damon tossed the ball to his brother. – “Do you know who lives over there?” – he asked Katherine curiously.
“Some rich grumpy man. I believe his name is Y/l/n.” – Katherine answered plainly catching the ball from Stefan. Katherine tossed the ball back to Damon. – “Does… does he have a daughter?” – Damon then asked, having caught the ball. Katherine shrugged her shoulders. – “If he did, I have never seen her.” – was her simple response. Damon nodded thoughtfully, clearly with his head elsewhere.
“Why do you ask?” – Katherine said curious. – “Nothing for.” – Damon replied, tossing the ball over to Stefan once more. – “Did you run into him?” – Stefan questioned. – “No luckily I didn’t.” – Damon responded. Stefan threw the ball back at Damon as he did no effort to catching it. Simply letting it drop to the ground as he started moving. – “I’m done playing.” – he said walking off. Katherine and Stefan looking confused at each other.
You narrowed your eyes confused, seeing a ball fly over the hedge. Not a moment later the same boy from yesterday climbing over the hedge. This time the ball was out in the open. Very obvious to see. The boy landed on his feet, looking anxiously around. He then jogged over to the ball, picking it up. You expected him to just go back over the hedge, when he came jogging over to the window you sat the day before.
Knowing you weren’t sitting there anymore, you knocked loudly on the glass. He froze, gaze towards your knocks. You waved shyly at him seeing a smile curl up. He came jogging over to the window you sat by. Coming to sit on his knees in the grass. He held his hand up, waving at you. He moved his hand down to his chest. – “I’m Damon.”  - he said loud, exaggerating in his words. He then gestured to you.
Chuckling shyly at his reaction, you pressed your hand on your chest. – “Y/n!” – you responded. Damon furrowed his brows, trying to distinguish your words. – “Y/n!” – you repeated, spelling your name onto the glass. Letter per letter for him to know. – “Y/n?” – he asked to be certain as you could see your name form on his lips. Nodding excitingly that he got it right.
“Can you come out?” – Damon asked with gestures. For a moment, you were happy. Chest moving forwards in joy till your joy faltered. Being reminded of your restrictions once more. Shoulders slouching down, you shook your head pitiful. – “Can you open the window?” – Damon asked. – “I’ll come in.” – he pointed at the glass, making you widen your eyes frantically. Shaking your head, you waved your hands across. – “Is… is your father home?” – Damon said curious.
He saw you look over your shoulder, gazing into the distance, before looking back at him with a nod. Damon pressed his hands against the glass with a sorrowful expression. You held a finger up for him to wait. He watched you leave, returning with a notebook. Sitting back down, you started scribbling on the paper. It was better than shouting against the glass. You surely didn’t want to alarm your father.
You held the notebook up to the glass for Damon to read. ‘I’m not allowed out.’ It read. – “Like ever?” – Damon questioned as you wrote down underneath your previous words. ‘ever.’ Was your response, holding it up to him once more. – “Why?” – Damon asked. Damon watched you write more. Hesitantly holding the notebook up to the glass once more. ‘Dangerous world.’ – it read. Damon looked in shock at you. – “He… he surely can’t keep you locked up forever.” – he said out loud. You only pulled your shoulders up to your known reality.
You heard footsteps, knowing it would be your father. The panic was clear on your face as Damon picked up on it quickly. He got up, nearly tripping backwards over his own stumbling. In a last second he threw the ball back into the bushes just underneath the window before running off. You watched him sprint back to the hedge, climbing over it with such effort, he made it over the top in a matter of moments.
“What are you doing by the window again!” – your father declared loudly. – “Aren’t I even allowed to look outside?” – you asked coming to stand before him. Your father moved around you, shutting the curtains closed. – “You may think I’m mad, but it is a dangerous world out there Y/n. It is best for you to stay here, where you are save and I can protect you.” – he spoke pushing you slightly away from the window. – “It is not save for a girl of your status to be out. Out where men want to harm you.” – your father continued. – “Because of you?” – you responded, shocked by yourself that you dared to go against him.
His expression angered. He grabbed you firm by the shoulder, dragging you away from the window. He dragged you all the way up to your room, locking you inside. Exhaling deep, you were once greeted by the same four familiar walls. Locked inside, just because your father had made a terrible mistake so many years ago.
Now he is haunted by the thought anyone of his previous co-workers would come and get revenge by hurting him or you. Even moving away, didn’t do anything to his fear. The sheer panic he had that his old workers would venge his cruel work conditions he put them through. The death of the little boy under his care, that shouldn’t even be there didn’t make it easier.
Damon wasn’t able to return within the next few days. He couldn’t shake his brother and Katherine off him. Having never been able to stop thinking about you. About the girl locked in her mansion. Each day he yearned to see you smile once more. Finally he had the time to climb back over the hedge when Stefan and Katherine were out. Stefan needing to accompany their dear friend on a matter.
Damon should be accompanying her too if it wasn’t for him faking that he didn’t feel so well. It took a lot of convincing for Katherine to stop bugging him about it. Now having crawled back over the hedge, he snuck right to the window where he had dropped his ball. He knocked gently on the window. Only to not hear a response.
He knocked again, thinking he might have not knocked loudly enough for you to hear. Scratching his hair confused, he started to look around. Looking at more window, to find your presence. Moving a bit back, his attention got drawn upwards. Looking up, he saw you knock saddened against your window glass.
Damon curling up a smile. You knew you couldn’t be close, so you turned around. Damon breathed loud, looking quickly around. Seeing some vines grow upwards to your window, made him reckless. He dropped the ball, running over to it. Grabbing tightly onto the vines to find a sturdy grip. It seemed to carry his weight as Damon started to climb up. Holding yourself, you hated being in the same room day in and out.
You wished to be outside. To feel the grass underneath your feet and the sun on your face. You wanted to feel the rain, get cold, warm and run endlessly without any walls holding you down. A desperate knock made you jump out of your skin. Turning round, you saw Damon pop up at your window. Motioning to you to get the window open quickly.
Panicking that he might fall, you rushed up to him. Opening the window in a haste. – “Lords Damon, are you insane?” – you called out, grabbing for his arm so he wouldn’t fall. Damon only chuckled, pulling himself more up. With the help of you, he tumbled into your room, making you move back.
He breathed out a laugh, relieved to have made it inside. – “Damon if my father sees you.” – you outed, keeping your voice low but with enough power to frighten him. Damon got up, walking up to you. Hesitantly he moved his hands out. Letting them fall on your shoulders with a smile. His touch made you blink surprised. – “Y/n.” – he said, wanting to speak your name. – “You shouldn’t be here.” – you told Damon, punching him in the armpit.
He rubbed the area. – “Neither should you.” – he responded. His words made your eyes widen, moving away from him. Knowing there wasn’t anything you could do about it. You walked up to the window, placing your hands on the windowsill. – “How… how come you aren’t allowed outside?” – Damon asked.
You breathed in deep, not even sure you remembered the last day you were outside. – “My… my father…” – you started unsure if you should continue. Damon started to come near as you started to explain. Explain what happened what made your father paranoid into staying inside.
Damon came placing his hands on the windowsill as well. Slowly letting his fingers spread to you. Till his pink came in contact with yours, guiding the rest of his fingers over yours. His little gesture, made you turn your head to him. The way he was looking at you, made your heart thump louder. – “I am sorry.” – he said, keeping his hand above yours. – “Don’t be…” – you answered, not wanting any pity.
For a moment, you were caught in his gaze. Mindless staring into his blue diamond eyes that bewitched you. Damon’s gaze went briefly from your eyes to your lips. Wondering what they would taste like. What it would be like to kiss those sweet innocent lips. Footsteps coming up the stairs, made you pull your hand from underneath him. Ushering him back out of the window.
You watched as Damon climbed down, taking his ball with him. Waving him goodbye, you kept watching till he was over the hedge. Damon was panting loud, looking up to the sky from Katherine’s side. – “I’ll get you out Y/n. One day.” – he said as a promise.
From then on dared Damon to danger himself frequently just to visit you. Climbing up to your room to spend time with you. Most days, you just talked. Some days, he would take your hand and lead you into a dance. The moments were brief, but never enough. He wanted you close, every day. Each moment spend with you, made him realize just how much in love he was with you.
The forbidden girl behind the glass. One day, Damon was in your room. Seeing how a bad day you were having. Sitting on your bed whilst staring into the distance. Damon would approach you, holding his hand out to you. Turning your head, you stared at his hand without any thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand in his. Allowing him to pull you up.
Damon came standing beside you, keeping your hand up. Having placed his palm against it. Slowly he started to turn, forcing you to turn along. Placing a hand on your lower back, he spun you around. Making you chuckle as you had tried to hold it in. Damon smiled from hearing you laugh, wanting to hear that sound every day. So caught up in your dance, you didn’t hear the footsteps.
You didn’t hear your father come up till it was too late. He barged into the room, panting loud. His eyes flashed with anger at Damon. He started to make his way over as you jumped in front of Damon. Your father pushed you aside. You dropped to the floor out of breath. – “Y/n!” – Damon called out with worry. – “I had a feeling someone was sneaking in my garden!” – your father called out.  
“You’re here to kill my daughter?” – your father shouted in a panic. – “Father, father please.” – you begged him to leave Damon alone. Your father left the room as Damon rushed over to you. Helping you up to your feet. – “Y/n we’ve got to go.” – he said as you panicked. – “No!” – you called out a Damon kept pushing you towards the window. – “Y/n it isn’t save.” – Damon made clear, holding both your shoulders.
Your father had returned, holding up the riffle. It made you gasp loud. – “Father no!” – you screamed out as he readied it at Damon. – “You are dead!” – he shouted ready to fire as Damon jumped at him. Surprised him by grabbing the riffle and pointing it upwards. You screamed loud when a shot got fired directly up in the ceiling.
Some dust and pieces falling down. – “Y/n climb down!” – Damon ordered you, fighting off your father for control for the riffle. Another shot fired directly to the wall not far from you. – “Y/n now!” – Damon shouted with worry that you might be the next undeliberate target. Crying loud, you climbed out of your window, grabbing onto the vines.
You heard your father shout loud, followed by commotion. You didn’t had to see anything, knowing they were fighting. The last few meters you dropped to the ground, arms unable to carry you any longer. Falling onto the ground, you looked up with panic. The hearing of another shot made you flinch. Not sure who it had hit, you screamed it out in agony.
“Y/n get up!” – you suddenly heard. Opening your eyes, you saw Damon hurry himself down. Shocked, you stared at him, unable to grasp what had happened. If he was here, they that meant your father was shot? He jumped the last part down, hurrying over to you. Pulling you up in a haste. – “We have to go Y/n.” – he said, dragging you along to the hedge. – “My… my father…” – you said, hand extended to your home.
From out of the window appeared your father. Panting loud, but he seemed unharmed. – “Give me back my daughter!” – your father shouted swinging his fists around. Damon and you got to the hedge as he gave you an assist to climb over. You tumbled over as Damon gave you a little push to make it go faster. Landing on your stomach on the other side.
Damon jumped beside you, dropping through his knees. Dusting his hands off he took you by the elbow, pulling you along. Leaving in a haste. He kept running till he was out of breath. Not wanting your father to go over the wall to find you.
Both of you were panting loud. Gazes catching each other. Damon neared letting his hand brush against your cheek. – “You’re out Y/n.” – he said. It took you a moment to realize. Looking around you to actually see your feet stand in grass. Damon lifted your chin up to him by his finger. Wanting you to look at him. Never had he lost sight of what he wanted.
You. Having missed you deeply. Each day apart from you, was a torment. Having found love where it wasn’t supposed to be. Letting his gaze go from your eyes to your lips. You intentionally neared, closing your eyes as Damon’s lips touched yours. First gently. A simple touch till they parted your mouth to deep the kiss. Finally having broken the girl behind the glass from her tower. To finally have her for a lifetime to love and to hold.
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reina-petrova · 10 months ago
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You Have My Word ・❥・ Elejah
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“Elena, you don’t have to just be a doppelgänger… you have to be a virgin. So, theoretically, if you lost it to someone, the ritual wouldn’t work.” “Are you serious?” “Yes, but there’s a catch…” “Of course there is. What is it, Bonnie?” “It has to be with an Original.” ↳AU where Elena discovers that Klaus’s hybrid ritual requires a virgin doppelgänger sacrifice and Elena never lost the V-card. Now her only hope is a certain Original. Set around season 3 during ripper!stefan and pining!Damon, post Elijah!haircut and post Elena's 18th birthday.
↳Warnings: Smut, virgin kink, dirty talk, light dom/sub undertones if you squint.
↳6.7k words
↳Cross-posted to AO3 here
↳Song rec: Terrible Thing by AG (A/N: this is just a silly AU fic that popped into my head, it’s only a vehicle for smut so be forewarned the canon details/timeline may be off 🤪)
・❥・
[text: 2:48pm] I found something. Call me l8tr. - Bonnie
Elena let out a shaky breath at the text in front of her. She finished putting the last of her books into her locker and slung her bag over her shoulder. She could hardly look away from the text as she shut the metal door closed, typing a quick response to Bonnie in the meantime.
[text: 2:49pm] I will. Thx B. - Elena
It almost seemed too good to be true, and as Elena returned to her car, she allowed herself a brief moment to envision a happy ending where Bonnie's new plan would actually work and they'd kill Klaus. Stefan would return to her. The Originals would be gone. Her town would be safe. She'd live.
Still, after so many run-ins with the supernatural, she'd learned to keep a healthy dose of reality mixed in with her positivity. Every plan was sure to work until it wasn't, and unfortunately, the last few indeed hadn't. It wasn't her life she was so worried about saving, it was everybody else's. With Klaus gone, they would be safe. But while Bonnie searched for any answers she could find, putting in all this time and effort, Elena had to at least try.
The moment she arrived home, she called Bonnie.
"Hey Elena,"
"Hi Bonnie, you said you found something? What's going on?" Elena sat down onto her bed with a small sigh.
"Yes and no. It's more of a loophole than anything else." Bonnie seemed a bit unsure, which gave rise to uncertainty in Elena. She prepared herself. Nothing was out of the question anymore.
"Okay, I'm ready."
"Like I said before, most of my grimoires don't go back far enough for the hybrid ritual, it's way too old. But I did find something in my oldest one, a description of it that included a word I've never seen before - virgino, in Latin."
Elena paused at that. She couldn't be hearing this correctly.
"As in...?"
"Yep. Virgin." Okay, so she had heard correctly.
"So what does that mean?"
“Elena, you don’t have to just be a doppelgänger… you have to be a virgin. So, theoretically, if you lost it, the ritual wouldn’t work.”
Elena's brows furrowed in confusion. She'd never heard that part of the ritual before. She wondered how accurate this description of the ritual could possibly be.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, but there’s a catch…” She heard Bonnie's voice grow more dim, and she knew it was nothing good.
“Of course there is. What is it, Bonnie?”
“Well... in order to ensure total loss of purity... it has to be with an Original.”
・❥・
“Thank you for meeting with me, Elijah.”
Elena’s fingers fidgeted around the coffee mug, her nails tracing over the width of it with anxiety. Elijah inclined his head politely, sitting opposite her at the Mystic Grill. It was far from a private place to speak, but Elena chose it for that very reason. Though the conversation was awkward at best, she didn’t know how she’d react if the two of them were alone. She didn’t even know how he’d react.
Despite all his wisdom, she knew he’d never guess why she’d asked to meet here.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Elena?”
He cut a handsome figure, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit that accentuated his shoulders with a matching black collared shirt underneath. The shirt opened at his throat and exposed the smallest peek of his clavicle. His hair was shorter now, brushed back and away from his face. A gold ring encircled one of his fingers. Noticing these details certainly wasn’t helping her nervousness. She swallowed the dryness in her throat at sound of the word pleasure.
Their “relationship” was built on shifting sands and she knew that, a tentative trust that both she and he tested the boundaries of. This would certainly cross the next three boundaries.
“Well, Bonnie was reading more into the hybrid ritual, trying to find a loophole. Trying to find our opportunity to kill Klaus.”
Elijah’s eyes searched hers but he said nothing in response, patiently waiting for her to continue. The words seem to spill out of her mouth as slowly as possible, yet her heart rammed in her rib cage. She was grateful he couldn't read her mind but doubtless he heard that at least.
What if he says no? How embarrassing would that be? And if it happened, how would she even explain to Stefan and Damon why suddenly the ritual wouldn’t work? Why it had to be Elijah?
“Yes.”
His smooth voice broke her from her reverie. She cleared her throat and tried again, taking another sip of her coffee. Matt had courteously slipped an extra something in her coffee when she’d asked, figuring even a drop of liquid courage would do her some good. It burned like a low ember in her stomach. Elijah’s tea stood in front of him, untouched.
“She found one other way that the ritual could be dismantled, apart from all the other options.” The other options being actually dying, becoming a vampire, etc. She’d gladly give her life if it meant her friends and town were safe, but killing Klaus would ensure safety forever. She had to at least try.
“Apparently, it’s not just the sacrifice of the doppelgänger… it’s the sacrifice of a virginal doppelgänger. So if the doppelgänger is no longer... you know, it won't work.”
Elijah’s brow furrowed, and she held some small victory in the fact that she was able to catch him so completely off guard. It made her feel less ridiculous in suggesting this, but also showed that not even the Originals knew all.
“But how can this be? I’ve never heard of such a requirement.”
“I guess it’s just one of the old failsafes from that era, tied in with the idea of innocence and purity in the face of…” She trailed off hesitantly.
“Evil.” He finished for her with a slow smile. She allowed herself a small smile in return.
When silence settled upon the conversation once more, Elijah took up the mantle, shifting to lean closer to her across the table. “And I assume you are a-“
“Yes.” The word was barely a whisper but she knew he heard it loud and clear.
Elijah raised his brows in some surprise, a smirk crossing his lips for the briefest of flashes. His hands quickly moved the teacup to the side of the table, the drink long forgotten. His fingers tapped slowly at the wooden table in thought, and Elena took a small breath into her lungs and held it.
“Forgive me, but with both Salvatore’s at your heels, and if I recall their history with Katerina-“ Elijah’s palm turned upwards, his eyes casting downwards for a moment.
“I am not Katherine.”
Then his gaze flickered up to hers, amusement clear in his warm brown eyes. She thought she saw a small look of admiration somewhere in those eyes.
“No. You are certainly not, Elena.”
Elena took another sip of the coffee, begging for the alcohol to provide some inspiration. As it was, her words were failing her and they hadn’t even gotten to the brunt of it. Part of her hoped he’d ascertain it himself without her even needing to say it. Though she wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to hear he’d say it either. Elijah was a noble man, and he ensured any and all terms of a deal were clear. He was the key to their plan to kill Klaus, and innuendos would never do, not when there was so much on the line. Thankfully, he wasn’t one for vulgarity either.
“So, if I’m understanding correctly, there’s only one thing left for you to do.” The amusement still never left Elijah’s eyes and it made her squirm in her chair. His gaze was so intent and heavy on her, his presence commanding. He was a man unlike she’d ever known. “But I’m assuming there’s a reason you called me here.”
"Yes." Here goes nothing. "The only way to ensure the total-“ she cleared her throat again. “-loss of purity is for it to be with an Original.”
Realization dawned on his features in the blink of an eye. Then, ever so slowly, she watched his face darken with something else. Her eyes dropped back to her fingers, nails digging into her nail beds. She wanted to disappear, to melt right into her chair.
“And further ensure the division of the family.” Elijah murmured. “If it can only be an Original, then only Niklaus’s own family can betray him.”
A small knot of fear tied itself in Elena’s stomach. If he refused, if he changed his mind about killing Klaus, all hope was lost. She tried her best to gauge his reaction, but he was unreadable at best, a stone statue at worst. Elijah never let his hand slip, and she could no more understand him than she could an ancient language.
Suddenly, her nerves got the better of her. The caffeine outweighed the alcohol, and she felt herself standing to her feet, grabbing her bag from the back of the chair.
“I’m sorry, this was a ridiculous idea. We’ll find another way-“ She took no more than a step away from the table, prepared to flee the building when she felt his hand take hers gently.
“Elena.”
He pulled on her hand slightly, just enough that she stepped back towards him and towards the table. Even in the smallest, most delicate of gestures, she felt his strength thrumming in his fingertips. She turned to face him, and he’d stood to his full height, his broad frame dwarfing hers.
It was then that she allowed herself the opportunity to even process what she was asking. She’d been so caught up in trying to kill Klaus, prevent any more innocent lives lost, that she hadn’t thought about what this would. mean. Her and Elijah. Together.
A flash of their bodies intertwining appeared in her mind, the heat of his hand on hers suddenly feeling like a searing flame on her skin. The knot of fear began to dissolve, and something else pooled in her lower stomach.
The same feeling she saw in his eyes just then.
Four little words, and despite herself, she felt her heart flutter.
“You have my word.”
・❥・
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Bonnie repeated for the fifth time that evening. Elena shot her a half annoyed glance, to which Bonnie grinned in response.
“I know.” Elena repeated for the sixth. All too well. Though she had a feeling she had no real idea.
Elena sat down into the bed with a quiet sigh. Bonnie had brought the grimoire where she found the loophole so Elena could see it for herself. Though her Latin was nonexistent, there was no denying that word. Virgin. She'd even brought a few extras she didn't have time to go through earlier in case they had any other information to offer. So far, nothing. The books shifted slightly towards Elena in their careful piles as her weight settled into the covers.
“What about Stefan? I thought you guys were waiting.”
The reminder of Stefan struck a chord in her heart, but one that had been struck too many times lately. She believed in her and Stefan’s love, but with him firmly in Klaus’s grasp, she could hardly recognize him. As it was, she had little time to wait.
“Stefan’s lost right now, Bonnie. And if this could get him away from Klaus and save his life, I’m going to try.”
“And Damon?” Bonnie offered quietly, with some note of derision in her voice. Elena knew how she felt about him, but there was also no denying Damon's obvious feelings for her, and how protective he'd become. It was almost too much to think about. Instead, she stood up and began aimlessly tidying the room, putting things away in random drawers. What does one do to prepare for this situation?
“He doesn’t know- he can’t know. He’ll lose it. He’ll say it’s a bad plan.” Along with a few choice words for Elijah and maybe a dagger dipped in white oak ash. Then they’d have no plan.
“Well I wouldn’t say it’s a good plan.” Bonnie responded sardonically.
Elena’s mouth dropped in fake disbelief as she put her diary away.
“This was your idea!”
“You’re the one going through with it! And I mean, Elijah? He’s kind of scary.”
“As opposed to who?” Elena responded with a mirthless laugh. “And he’s not that scary. He’s just… aristocratic."
“No? Oh.” Bonnie teased coyly. “I forgot how well you’re acquainted…" She cocked a brow at Elena's pattering around the room "Are you actually cleaning right now?”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She admitted. “How does one seduce an Original?”
Bonnie started flipped some of the grimoires closed, and Elena looked up nervously at the clock. He would arrive in 30 minutes. Anticipation buzzed through her veins at the thought. Bonnie slid off the bed once the books allowed a path and stood in front of Elena, taking her hands in hers as a show of strength.
“I'm sorry, Elena, this is a big deal. Your first time but it comes with the caveat of saving your life and everybody else's. Not to mention it's happening with a thousand year old vampire. Just be your normal, charming self. This is a common interest of killing Klaus and nothing more.”
“Right,” Elena smiled. Nothing more. Right?
“But-“ Bonnie reached behind her and pulled one of the drawers she’d just shut open and retrieved her hair brush. With a shrug, she handed it to Elena. “Couldn’t hurt.”
Elena smirked and took the hairbrush from her hands, combing it through her locks gently.
・❥・
After Bonnie left, Elena paced for another ten minutes incessantly. She'd brushed her hair, done minimal makeup, but left herself in her usual outfit of jeans and a tank top. Anything else felt like it was trying too hard.
She sat down onto edge of the bed and glanced at her phone. A few messages from Damon and Caroline. Nothing from Stefan. She dropped the phone onto the bed and waited. With each passing minute, she felt her heart beginning to race faster and faster.
This is insane. How is this my life?
The fact that it was happening in her bedroom was even stranger. Elijah had been inside of her house before but this was something else entirely. He'd been perfectly gentlemanly in allowing her to choose the location, but there weren't many options. Elijah had no permanent domicile as of yet, and a hotel room felt too seedy, even the nicest one in town; though he'd even assured her he'd take care of the cost.
Only after she ensured Ric and Jeremy wouldn't be home did she suggest her place, a small level of familiarity in this situation. She wasn't afraid per se, but the way her body reacted to his was jarring. There was something deeply forbidden about it, and she couldn't help but be drawn to it. Being home would help ground her.
His knock came, short and sweet. Elena's heart nearly jumped out of her chest as she stood up and walked down the stairs to let him in. Her fingers curling around the knob, she took one more quiet breath. No going back now.
She opened the door to Elijah standing on her porch, clad in his usual tailored suit. The black fabric looked heavy and luxurious with the way it laid on his shoulders, accentuating his broad frame. The dark shirt he was wearing that afternoon was replaced with a crisp white one, and the tie he wore was black to match the jacket. There was stubble on his jaw, she noticed with a note of appreciation. It gave him a slightly more disheveled look than usual. Her nervousness began to melt away at the sight of his handsome face and his calm demeanour.
He was wearing the same gold ring as before, and she only noticed when she spotted the crimson red rose in his fingers. With a smile, he extended it to her. "Elena."
"Elijah." Elena reached out and took the rose from his hands, giving a slight smirk. "A flower. Very symbolic of you."
Elijah let out a quiet laugh. "I assure you, I meant no such innuendo. It didn't seem right to come without a gift."
"Well, it's beautiful. Please come in."
He stepped in as invited and she shut the door behind him. Now that they were well and truly alone, her heart picked up the pace once more, but she busied her fingers with the stem of the rose so as not to betray it. The man was a thousand years old and undoubtedly had known countless women. Her experience to his could not pale more in comparison. "I'm sorry, this is a bit... overwhelming."
"Undoubtedly."
Elijah stepped towards her slowly, closing the distance between them more than they ever had before. Elena stared upwards at him, her eyes barely at the level of his lips. His gaze was compelling but warm as it fell upon her, and she felt a breath hitch in her lungs at the nearness of him. "I want to make this experience comfortable for you, Elena. Your terms."
Elena nodded slowly, swallowing back her saliva. "Should we go upstairs?"
Elijah inclined his head with a small smile to which Elena smiled back. As intimidating as he could be, he was trying to put her at ease, and she appreciated it. She led the way up the stairs and to her bedroom, Elijah trailing behind. Once upstairs, she placed the rose delicately on the top of the dresser and then turned to face him.
Elijah looked incredibly out of place in her bedroom. Finely dressed and with an air of sophistication only a thousand years on earth could garner, he was like an ancient relic pulled straight from the history books. He looked better suited to a battlefield than a modern-day bedroom. But if he was ill at ease, he certainly never showed it.
His eyes met hers again and Elena's stomach flip-flopped. He had barely even touched her yet, and she was already reacting so viscerally to the vampire in front of her. Again, snapshots of their bodies entwining flashed in her mind like a promise of what was to come. Amusement crossed his chiseled features and he raised a hand to gently place his thumb and forefinger on her chin. "I can hear your heart beating, Elena."
Beating was an understatement. It felt like it was about to pop out of her chest. His touch on her face certainly wasn't helping that matter.
"Are you nervous?"
She thought before answering, their eyes searching each other, trying to gauge the other's feelings. But despite what she'd initially thought... she wasn't. Excitement thrummed within her, her arousal beginning to simmer at the seductive way he seemed to be looking down at her. He knew exactly what kind of power he held, and he enjoyed it. It was unnerving, but it was thrilling.
"No."
"Good. I want you to enjoy yourself, Elena. To let go and give in." To me, his eyes seemed to say. Give in to me completely. She managed a nod but found that words had escaped her completely. Was he moving in closer?
His fingers never dropped from her chin and she had nowhere to look but directly at him. Warmth bloomed from inside her stomach, her body signalling just how much she wanted to give in.
Using his other hand, he lifted a single finger to trace over the curvature of her neck, beginning from her collarbone all the way up to where her jaw began. His finger pressed just so behind her jawbone where her pulse was strongest, and she felt her blood sing in response to him.
"I meant what I said. Your terms. You're in complete control."
"I know..." Closer still. Their lips were a hairsbreadth apart.
"Yes?" She could feel the smile in his lips.
"Yes."
His lips met with hers and she felt herself crumble. His kiss was as captivating as she could've imagined, without a trace of insistence. He was telling the truth; the pace was in her hands. At first, shyness won out. Elena returned the kiss slowly at first, but as her lips deepened, so did his.
His hand had fallen from her face and instead, he pressed his palm to to her mid-back. It dipped no lower. Ever the gentleman, she thought, unable to supress the smile between their kiss.
He seemed to sense her amusement because his hand fell lower not a moment later, placing itself into the small of her back. He pressed her body closer to his, her chest landing flush with his as though he were challenging her.
Something sparked within Elena as the warmth of Elijah's hand spread through her hips. A need to know, a need to discover. She found the courage to touch him back, raising her hands to slip over his shoulders, fingers delicately tracing over the back of his neck. The fabric of his suit was soft to the touch, his skin softer still.
She'd done some things with Matt and Stefan before, but with Elijah, it felt as though she knew nothing at all. In this, she wanted him to take the lead. It seemed he intended to to some degree as both of his hands came down to her waist, the large expanse of his hands burning through her shirt. Desire began to take over, and their kisses grew deeper still. She ran her fingernails along the nape of his neck, coming down to scratch over his shoulders.
His hands pressed into her hips again before he broke the kiss. Elena felt how flushed she was, cheeks pink and lips swollen from his amorousness. She saw a muscle work in his jaw and he regarded her with half-lidded eyes. He raised a graceful hand and indicated towards the bed with a half-smirk.
"Please."
Elena pulled herself away from Elijah and obeyed, sitting on the side of the bed before lying down. Not once did she look away from him as he shrugged his jacket off, then loosened the knot of his tie. Desire pooled in the deepest parts of her at the sign of him so untidy. He looked like every woman's dream as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his white shirt and rolled them up slowly, exposing tanned forearms corded with lean muscle.
He returned to her, eyes appreciatively slipping from her neck downwards to her chest and her hips. "Good girl."
Slowly, he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss again, his arms on either side of her head. The night had fallen in earnest now, the single lamp she left on providing a faint warm glow in the room. Elijah’s body swallowed her, the broadness of his shoulders and the dimness of the room entombed her in what felt like an eternity of him.
Elena reached up and twirled her fingers around his tie, giving an experimental tug to pull him down closer to her. He chuckled against her mouth and she did it again, pleased with the way his weight settling on her felt.
"Not that good." She whispered against his mouth.
"No? Show me."
Passion reignited, his mouth was suddenly everywhere. On hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, her collarbone, between the valley of her breasts. When his mouth stopped where her shirt ended, his fingers tugged upwards at the bottom of it, and she broke the kiss to pull it over her head.
With practiced ease, he unbuttoned her jeans and began to tug them down. She sat up slightly to help pull them off, then fell back in only her bra and underwear. Just before he could continue, she reached for one of his hands and tentatively placed it between her legs. Elijah raised his brows at her but acquiesced.
One arm outstretched between her thighs, the other bent as he hovered over her, he gazed down at her with darkened eyes. "I think you'll be good for me."
Elena's breathing pitched into a soft moan as she felt Elijah's fingers press against her underwear. Moving softly but with intent, his index and middle finger rubbed upwards, careful to barely brush against her covered clit, just where she needed him most. Her hips shifted at the pleasure, lips parting as another moan escaped her lips. His fingers were trained and precise.
"Won't you?" He asked, and she could hardly piece together a sentence. His voice was deep enough it reverberated in her chest. She felt herself growing wetter and she knew he could feel it too.
"Yes, Elijah."
"Mm."
She reached for his tie again to pull him down into another kiss. In the meantime, his fingers brushed the edge of her underwear aside and as his fingers slipped against her pussy, she gasped into his mouth. Finally, after a few moments, his fingers slowly came to her clit, and she felt every nerve sizzle in her body at the feeling.
He pressed another kiss to her lips as his fingers slowly slipped inside of her, and she suppressed another moan into his mouth. They moved slowly, collecting her wetness and teasing her. Her hips bucked lightly, chasing the feeling.
"So innocent... What do you want, Elena?" His fingers paused over her clit and she let out a soft whine at the cessation.
"I want you to touch me, Elijah. Please."
His touch felt like electricity as his fingers returned to run against her clit, and her body tensed as the pleasure swam through her. She already felt spent and yet he was still fully clothed.
Her hands reached for his shirt, but his hands captured hers before she could even the score. "Not yet. Not until I think you've had enough."
Her head and shoulders fell back onto the bed as his fingers picked up their pace. He alternated between slipping inside of her and pressing his thumb against her clit, until the energy building inside of her threatened to spill over. Her hands found his shoulders and her fingernails dug into his shirt at the pleasure, brow creasing as it threatened to overtake her.
Finally, with one last roll of his fingers, she felt the wave crash into her, sending ripples of sparks down to her very fingers and toes. If he were a mortal man, the grip she had on his body would've left marks. Elijah's mouth swallowed the last of the moans escaping from Elena's lips as his fingers rode out her orgasm, his thumb occasionally brushing against her sensitive clit, causing her to jump.
"I like the sight of you like this, sweet Elena. Undone, writhing. Your pleasure in my hands."
"And yours in mine." She panted.
Elena pushed up on Elijah's shoulders and he allowed it, the positions reversing until she straddled his hips. His hands came up to her waist, gripping it as she slowly rolled them over his. His desire was evident in the bulge of his pants, and it gave her immense satisfaction to know she had the same effect that he did on her.
Her fingers made quick work of his belt, unbuttoning while pressing her hand against the outline of him. He released a quiet groan at the feeling of her touch, and she wanted to hear more. His fingers came away from her hips to divest himself of his tie properly, slipping the satin from around his neck.
She slid from off his hips and stood at the foot of the bed, leaning over to tug him towards her by the loop of his trousers. He stood, his shirt half unbuttoned and creased, and his belt hanging around his hips. Elena felt herself grow wetter as she sank to her knees in front of him, and he watched with dark eyes as she began to pull his trousers and underwear down, just low enough to release his cock.
He was long and thick in her hand, and his head fell back as she leaned forward and licked a trail from shaft to tip. Slowly, she took him into her mouth, licking and sucking his heavy length until she could take him no more.
A deep growl emanated from Elijah’s chest, his hand coming up to rest against the back of her head. He let her set the pace, but his fingers knotted themselves in her hair as she swirled her tongue around his tip, tasting every last inch of him.
“You wicked little thing.” He sighed, his jaw clenching and his muscle tensing. She could see he desperately wanted to move his hips, but stayed in full control as she pressed him deeper into her mouth.
She placed her hands on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his trousers to give herself more balance, and she felt his fingers brush the hair away from her face and behind her ear before lightly collecting it into his grip. The small gesture made her heart skip as she set a quick rhythm.
He groaned again in pleasure, allowing himself a few more moments before delicately tugging on her hair to bring her back up to standing position. In a flash, the moment she stood, he had her trapped against the wall, his chest pressing into her shoulder blades. Her fingers bent and scratched against the wall, seeking purchase as her lungs seemed to give out. His scent enveloped her. His mouth was hot against her ear.
“So innocent and yet so wicked. So ready to be defiled. Will you give into me, Elena?” Give in, her mind whispered.
She found herself pushing back against the wall to be closer to him, the outline of his body providing delicious heat against hers. She felt his strength emanating from every muscle, both hands pressed on either side of her. Using one hand, he tilted her jaw until her neck was exposed to him. For a moment, she thought he would drink from her, but instead, he placed gentle half-kiss-half-bites along the slope of her neck. His hand then dipped to her back where he quickly unhooked her bra and slipped it off her shoulders. Her underwear was tugged down until it fell. Goosebumps rose all over her skin at the thought of being fully naked in front of Elijah Mikaelson.
“I want to give in, Elijah. Give me all of you.”
Her back was pressed into the mattress before she realized, her body softly settling on the bed. Elijah undid the last of the buttons on his shirt and pulled off his trousers.
“So beautiful.” He murmured, his hand coming up to cup her breast, thumb tracing over her pebbled nipple. Elena sighed at the feeling.
Elijah’s body was just as beautiful, she thought. The expanse of his chest was strong, his abdomen and arms both lean with taut muscle. A deep V-line followed into his hips, his cock erect.
Just as their lips moved to reconnect, Elena’s eyes met his again. Suddenly, this became more than just breaking a ritual. Both were entrenched in their desire, desperate to for release in the other’s body. Nervousness bubbled up inside of her again as she realized it was time. Everything else she had done before, but not this. She knew generally what to expect of sex, but certainly not when it came to a thousand year old vampire being her first.
“I’ll be gentle.”
Elena nodded at his kind words, fingers reaching up to his shoulders again. He balanced on one arm as the other reached out to touch her slick heat, and instantly, she felt the unreleased desire come flooding back. Satisfied, Elijah slowly guided himself between her legs.
Her chest arched upwards at the feeling. Heat spread from her hips as her pussy stretched to accommodate his length. True to his word, he moved slowly as he rolled his hips towards her, sinking deeper into her with every breath. She could feel him gauging her reaction and moving only so long as she allowed it.
Elena felt as though she might burst from the feeling, her breathing devolving into moans as he settled himself to the hilt inside of her. One of her legs was bent, the other laid straight, and one of his hands gripped her thigh as he used the other to balance himself over her, watching her face.
Once the burn of the stretch passed, pleasure began to trickle in. He felt immense inside of her, overwhelming in every aspect of his body as he stilled his hips against hers.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes- yes.” Her eyes fluttered closed.
“Does it feel good, Elena?”
He slowly rolled his hips back and she let out an involuntarily moan at the feeling of him moving inside of her. When he rolled his hips forward again, pleasure erupted from within her, and her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.
“Yes, yes!“
Elijah pressed a kiss to her lips, and obeyed. He set a slow but sensual rhythm to his hips as he moved in and out of her with deliberate care. Any discomfort long forgotten, Elena felt her own hips moving in tandem, hissing in delight at the friction their hips created.
He chuckled at her reaction. “So good for me.”
The praise was like an extra douse of kerosene to the flame.
“Please, Elijah- more.”
“More what? Hm?”
All the while, he never stopped moving, his hips picking up a faster pace. In that moment, the hand resting on her thigh slipped between their two entwined bodies. His fingers immediately located her clit, and the combination of him pumping in and out of her, and his thumb pad rolling against her clit, her moan nearly turned into a scream. She could hardly think past her own name.
“Use your words, Elena. Tell me what you want.”
But she couldn’t. Her body shook with pleasure, her nails digging crescent shaped impressions into his skin.
“I’m so close, please…”
His fingers and hips slowed down ever so slightly, and she whined at the feeling of her release slowly ebbing away.
“Do you want more?” He asked again.
“Yes.” Her voice was thick with desperation. All she could think about was the way his hips moved in between her thighs. The length of him hit all of the most inner parts, sending shockwaves of pleasure up her spine. She wanted more of anything he would give her.
He slowly pulled out of her, releasing his grip on her and flipped their positions once more. He kneeled behind her on the bed while she lay flat on her stomach, then he slowly moved until his body hovered over hers.
She pressed her thighs together, trying to gain back some friction, frustrated at the loss of him. She felt him press a kiss to her shoulder blade and in the same moment, he lifted her hips and slowly slid back into her.
She gasped at the feeling, her hips rising to meet his, and he settled back onto his knees, gripping her hips as he set a quicker pace. She felt herself dripping between her thighs, moans slipping past her lips as Elijah thrusted in and out.
She was desperate for release, and as his hips stuttered a bit, she knew he was too. He reached forward for her, pulling her back towards him until her back was pressed to his chest once more. One arm encircled her waist while the other hand reached for her clit. She nearly folded at the feeling, but his arm kept her to him, and suddenly she was right at the precipice of her release once more.
“Will you be good for me, Elena?”
She managed a nod, fingers digging into his forearm. His cock and fingers were relentless against her, and she felt like she was about to scream.
“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Elijah, I’m so- so close.”
“So good...” He murmured. “Cum for me.”
The pleasure erupted inside of her, her hips stuttering and her pussy clenching around him as she reached the brink of orgasm. Elijah groaned at the feeling of her coming undone around him, his hand falling away from her clit. He gripped her to him and thrusted inside of her a handful more times before spilling inside of her. Elena relished in the feeling of him in those last moments before he released her.
It was done.
Elena collapsed onto the bed with Elijah close by, unable to move, to think, even to breathe. He shifted himself over so as not to crush her, the pair panting deeply in the thralls of their desire.
The phrase total loss of purity echoed in her mind as she opened her eyes and looked upon Elijah. The shameless way she begged for him, the way her hips moved in search of him. She had corrupted herself entirely. Defiled by an Original.
In more ways than one, they were linked together forever.
After a minute, their breathing settled into silence.
“Do you think it’ll work?” She whispered.
Elijah looked over at her, sitting up slightly. He raised a hand to gently move one of the strands of her hair away from her face. It felt as intimate as anything they'd just done. The heat having died down between them, there was nothing left to do but face the music.
"I have long learned to keep hope at bay whenever Niklaus is involved."
Elena nodded. Of course he was right, but she tried not to look too concerned. He seemed to notice.
"I hope you don't regret this night too deeply if it does not. I recognize what a sacrifice this must've been for you."
Elena shook her head, mirroring him as she slowly sat up as well.
"I don't regret it, Elijah."
He smiled softly, and she returned it.
"Neither do I."
・❥・
The next morning after Elijah left, Damon arrived at her house. She could tell he was relieved that she was indeed alive, but simultaneously annoyed at having been ignored. He wore his usual leather jacket, black jeans and boots, with a few strands of black hair falling into his eyes. She couldn't help but compare the two men that were at her door just a few hours apart. A leather jacket and a suit.
"Oh good, you're still standing. Would've been nice to know." He raised his cellphone up as he crossed the threshold. "You know these nifty little things called cellphones? I called like three times."
She'd passed out almost immediately after Elijah had left, though she'd only been able to sleep a few hours before she couldn't ignore Damon any longer.
"Sorry, I just fell asleep. Bonnie and I were going through some old grimoires trying to find something." I hope that's convincing enough. She'd even made sure to shower and change after Elijah had left, not wanting Damon to risk sensing anything had been awry. She led him upstairs back up to her bedroom, desperate to go back to sleep.
"And? Did our witchy encyclopedia find anything?"
"She did, actually."
"Mhm. I bet."
Elena looked over at Damon with a raised brow at his suspicion and he met it with a smirk.
"You hatched a plan, didn't you?" He did the eye thing. Elena blinked and turned away, giving a noncommittal shrug.
"Not really. It was barely a plan."
"Fine, don't tell me." Damon closed the space between them with a single stride until he was looking down at Elena. He gave another smirk. "Just promise me it wasn't anything stupid."
Elena smiled. "You have my w- I mean, I promise."
Damon nodded once, then reached over her shoulder to grab something from her dresser. Elena's heart dropped when Elijah's red rose came into view. Damon twirled it between his fingers with narrowed eyes and a crooked smile.
"What's this, then?"
・❥・
Fin.
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baseballbitch116 · 5 months ago
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However Long It Takes Masterlist
Klaus Mikaelson x oc slowburn
Charlotte Fell has had a troubled life. Her mom is a close friend of Kelly Donovan - Matt’s mother - and wherever Kelly goes, Charlotte’s mother follows. So it was just her when she was turned into a vampire. Charlotte’s never really had anyone to count on other than herself or Matt. She’s never bonded much with anyone before - until her senior year - when she met the “Originals.” She found them intriguing and misunderstood - especially the hybrid. Something about his darkness just felt so… relatable. There was an undeniable tension between the two, something that Charlotte’s friends absolutely hated. Is Klaus really as dangerous as he puts on? Would he hurt her? Or is she in way over her head?
This fanfiction slow burn series will have approximately 20 chapters. Last updated 7/8/2024.
Do not repost or claim my work as your own. This story and Charlotte Fell belong to baseballbitch116 only.
Chapter One - Homecoming
Chapter Two - The Grill
Chapter Three - The Ball
Chapter Four - 1920's
Chapter Five - The Vampire Hunter
Chapter Six - I Dare You
Chapter Seven - The Pageant
Chapter Eight - Confrontations...
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zalrb · 5 months ago
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Saint {elena/stefan/katherine pt. 7}
It's long and hopefully messy af. Hope you enjoy! The gif limit pisses me off, lololol.
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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!"
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"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?” 
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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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.
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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. 
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“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
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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
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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.
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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.” 
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“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.
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“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.” 
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“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.
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“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.”
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"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.
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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.
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"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.
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"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?"
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"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!"
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"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.
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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. 
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"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."
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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.
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"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.
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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.
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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. 
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“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.”
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leemacher · 5 months ago
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When We Meet Again Lorenzo St. John x Reader
Summary: Damon was always getting the two of you into and out of trouble, but when you get pulled into the Augustine Society with him, neither of you are sure if you'll ever make it out. What hurts the most though? Growing to love the vampire who'd already been there for years and being forced to listen to his screams.
Content: Reader is a Salvatore vampire, Reader's gender is never specified but is referred to using pet names like "gorgeous" and "love", mentions of child abuse, mentions of parental death, semi-graphic depictions of torture, starvation, major character death implied, angst, fluff, hurt no comfort, hurt with extremely delayed comfort, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, just barely edited
Word Count: 6.1k
a/n: I love Enzo with all my heart and I swear this man has zero fics. When this popped into my head I stopped everything to write it even though it made me cry. Enjoy!
Part 2 is imminent - not sure how many people still read for him, but if anybody wants to be tagged for it just let me know
The stinging feeling running through your veins was the first thing you noticed as you began to wake. Unable to move, even your thoughts had trouble being heard through the pounding in your skull.
The sounds of people around you talking started to ground you, and it didn’t take much longer for you to remember what happened. Damon had contacted you.
It was always Damon wasn’t it? Even when you were kids, it was always like this. When your mother died, he was your anchor. When your father was less than fatherly, he was your shield. And when you felt like causing trouble, he was your guide. Stefan was your brother, but Damon was your person.
So it made sense that when men with wooden stakes and vervain needles went after Damon, you would be right beside him then too. Although, you weren’t sure either of you were entirely happy about that.
It was the first time seeing your brother in almost ten years, you shouldn’t have to be looking at him through bars.
Bars?
Your vision focused, albeit much slower than a vampire’s vision should, and you found yourself looking through a set of prison bars. In front of you, in a cell similar to yours, was a man you had never seen before. To the right, you could barely make out your brother, who looked much better than you felt at that moment.
“D-” you tried to speak, but it ended up in a cough as your vocal cords strained to work after who knows how long. “Damon?” You tried again, struggling to sit up.
As you moved to lean against the concrete wall behind you, he spoke. “Hey, kid.” You had never heard Damon sound so, whatever this was. “How you feeling?”
You scoffed. “You led me into some sort of Van Helsing trap.” You snapped, playfully. Well, as playful as you could manage. “How do you think I’m feeling?”
Unsure of whether his silence or an apology would’ve been more concerning, you focused your energy on the man sitting across from you. “Who are you? Where are we?”
“Lorenzo St. John, at your service. Or I would be, anyway.” He spoke with a little wave and tilt of his head, and also looked as bad as you felt. His clothes were frayed and as dirty as his skin, and even in the dark cells you could see the faint remnants of blood on his body and clothes. However, with short black hair, brown eyes, and an English accent, he would’ve been someone you found attractive had you not been where you were. “Welcome to Augustine.”
Introducing yourself, because if nothing else you had basic manners, you took another glance at your brother. “Are you okay?”
Silence followed. Pushing yourself forward a little, you underestimated your strength which had steadily been coming back, and a little became a lot. Your body shot towards the bars faster than you expected, and tried grabbing onto them to stabilize yourself.
“I wouldn’t do that, gorgeous.”
You hissed in pain at the same time Lorenzo spoke. Pulling your hands away from the bars, you groaned. As anger at your predicament coursed through your veins, the tell tale black markings of a vampire began to appear under your eyes.
Before any of you had a chance to do or say anything else, another man appeared. This time, outside of a cell and with a needle of vervain in his hand. He mumbled to himself while messing with the locks on Damon’s cell.
Fear shot through you. You weren’t entirely sure what was happening, but the vervain needle accompanied by the metal rolling table he brought with him told you it couldn’t be anything good. Glancing at Lorenzo, you briefly caught him shaking his head at you before deciding to ignore him.
“Hey!” You yelled, but the man continued opening Damon’s cell. Looking at your brother, you couldn’t even tell if he was awake or not, “Hey! I’m talking to you, you ass!”
You stood up as best you could, your body fighting off the last remnants of vervain. Ignoring the stinging sensation, you began banging on the doors to the cell, yelling even louder this time. “Mr. Jackass!”
The man quickly spun around, sizing you up with his nostrils flared. You barely caught sight of Lorenzo’s wide eyes before the man had the vervain needle stuck into your arm. He opened the cell as your strength began to fade once more, mumbling something about you being more active than you should.
Being wheeled down the hall on a gross feeling medical gurney, you tried mapping out the layout of the place as best you could, but he seemed to reach his destination very quickly.
The vervain had made quick work of you, and you barely had the strength to react when the man strapped down your arms and legs.
Barely, being the key word.
“If you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask.” You sassed. If you were going to go through whatever this man intended on doing to you, you were going to annoy the hell out of him in the process.
The man left your vision, and you could hear items shuffling around, clinking together every once in a while, before he walked back into your view. A tray of medical equipment and a few unsavory looking tools lay on a metal table he placed next to your body.
Shocks ran up and down your spine, fear sinking into every fiber of your being. Lorenzo was warning you not to make things worse, and in that split moment as the man carved into your torso for the first time, you wondered how long he had been here.
You refused to allow a scream to escape, instead biting down on the inside of your lip. “Oh, so you’re this kind of freaky, huh?” You said once gathering your wits.
The blade above you paused, and you smirked as the man let out a deep sigh. “Unless you’re screaming, shut up.”
The scalpel dug back in, slicing from one side of your abdomen to the other. You barely suppressed another cry of pain, thanking Guiseppe Salvatore for the first time in your life for a high pain tolerance, before speaking again as he set the scalpel down. “Make me, Bitch!”
Shortly after saying that, you felt the man’s fingers pry your skin apart, creating an opening to your stomach. Peeling layer after layer of skin, and cutting more as necessary, the man exposed the inside of your body almost surgically.
You found the strength to lift your head, watching as his hands disappeared inside your body, pushing your organs around. The pain was excruciating, but the sight of your organs and veins being moved around was even worse.
For hours after, or at least for as long as this went on, the man would smirk at every cry of pain. Taking great pleasure in the sounds he was able to bring out of you, every ounce of strength you had went into staying quiet.
Delirium had set in, and after so long, you didn’t even feel like you were alive. Just existing, forever, motionless and in pain. So much so that you didn’t even realize when it had stopped.
You barely reacted to being pushed back to your cell, or gave thought to opening your eyes for long enough to see if your brother was okay. The only reaction you felt capable of giving was a groan as your body came into contact with the stone floor of your cell.
It hadn’t occurred to you back then, but after recovering from your session you realized that the others could hear everything that happened in that room. Damon, while just as witty as you were, was less practiced in the art of silence it seemed.
“Hey,” Enzo, as you had learned to call you, spoke. “Damon said he was your brother?”
You locked eyes with Enzo through the darkness. “Yeah.”
Enzo sighed, flinching with you when Damon let out a particularly painful scream. “Do you have any other siblings?”
Stefan’s face flashed through your mind, and you were briefly grateful that him and Damon seemed to always be at odds. You don’t think you could handle both of them being here.
“Yeah. Another brother, Stefan.”
Enzo smiled kindly as a tear streamed down your face. “Tell me about him.”
So you did.
You told Enzo all about Stefan and the adventures the three Salvatore siblings would have when they were all human. Mystic Falls couldn't handle the three of you, although you were certain there wasn’t a place on earth that could.
When Katherine came around and created a rift between Stefan and Damon, it also pushed the two of them away from you. Turning into vampires however, somehow made it even worse. Damon never forgave Stefan for forcing him to turn, and because Damon was your person, you took his side.
Soon enough, it was almost like Damon was the only family you had left. Despite everything, though, Stefan was still your brother, and you promised yourself that if you ever got out, no matter what Damon wanted, you were going to fix things with him.
For what felt like hours, you told Enzo about everything you could think of. And anytime Damon’s screams hit you too hard, he asked a question or started a story of his own. Together, the two of you took each other’s minds off of where you were.
When Damon was finally dropped back in his cell, the three of you promised that one day you would all make it out. And when you did, you would burn this place to the ground.
“You remember the time you broke your wrist because George Lockwood called you cute?”
You groaned as loudly as you could, ignoring the stinging in your throat as you did so. “Why must you always bring that up?”
Enzo chuckled at the two of you, raising his eyebrow at you questioningly. “You what?”
Damon laughed as you hid your face behind your hands. “George Lockwood was a suitor of hers back in the day. Father thought marrying the two of them would bring both of our families a higher status in the world.”
“And you broke your wrist because he flirted with you?” Enzo laughed along with Damon.
“No!” You shot both men a pointed glare. “I broke my wrist because I tripped and fell.”
“Because he was flirting with you.” Damon chipped in.
“Because I was flustered and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going!” You corrected.
Damon smirked at you from his cell, continuing to tease you. Today was a rare day where none of you were carted off to be ripped apart, and though that meant that none of you would be fed the tiniest bit of blood in existence to heal and thus were all practically starving, this was still classified as a good day. “Because he was flirting with you.”
You groaned again, rolling your eyes. “I was sixteen, Damon. I wasn’t supposed to be good at flirting back then.”
“As opposed to now, I assume?” Enzo pitched in, his eyebrows raised.
“I’ll have you know, I could have any man eating out of my hand if I so wished.”
“George excluded?” Damon smiled. “Or is it just the men who you like that make you prone to running into things?”
“As if I needed clumsiness to drive men away.” You gave Damon a playful glare. “Anyone who I’ve ever been interested in, this one has chased away.” You said, glancing at Enzo and watching as he made a face of understanding.
“Well it’s a good thing I can’t go anywhere then.” Enzo said, his voice dropping slightly. “And with no way to run into anything, you can flirt to your heart’s content.”
You raised an eyebrow, pretending to look him up and down. “As if I’d want to flirt with you.”
“Please,” Enzo smiled, and you found yourself mirroring it, as he spread his arms out beside him. “I’m a catch.”
“You’d be lucky if you even got a moment with me, stud.” You mocked, teasingly.
“And I’d savor that moment for the rest of my existence.”
Damon cut back into the conversation with a loud groan and a bang. “If you’re gonna flirt, can you at least do it while I’m being tortured?” You giggled while Enzo held back a laugh. “It’s less painful.”
“How you feeling?” Enzo spoke softly to you.
After a particularly rough session, in which Damon was immediately carted off for his turn, you could barely manage to lift your head up off the ground. You tried to speak, but even that felt like too much.
“That bad, huh?” You could hear the soft smile in his voice. “And here I was thinking you were invincible.”
The faintest of smiles crossed your face, and for a moment silence filled the cells. With no noise except the faintest clinking sounds of the men in the room over preparing to cut into Damon, you had time to think about or rather acknowledge the thoughts that had been rolling through your head as of late.
When you first got here, your only thought was of how to get out. For you, it wasn’t an if, but a when, and when you did you had plans upon plans of how you would get back at the people who put you and your brother through hell. Now though? Now it felt as if there was no escape.
It was as if there would never be anything other than pain. You began to wonder what it would be like to die here, or if they’d ever let you die. You didn’t know which was worse.
Gathering all of your strength, you weren’t even sure if Enzo would hear you when you spoke. “Keep talking.”
A second passed before you heard Enzo sigh. “It seems somewhat sad to say, but I think you and Damon are the only two friends I’ve ever truly had.”
For the most part, Enzo avoided talking about himself and his past, saying that there wasn’t much to tell. Because of this, anytime he had to talk for more than five minutes at a time, it landed more on you or Damon.
Though more recently, his ramblings tended to land on you, and this time was no exception.
“The two of you showing up was unexpected after being alone here for so long. You more than your brother.” He scoffed to himself. “You could barely move and yet still, the first thing you did was piss off the doc. Thought you were an idiot if I’m being honest.”
“But then I realized what you were doing. Damon did too, which he was pissed about by the way.” You exhaled roughly in a laugh at that. “Either way you definitely weren’t what I was expecting.”
“As shitty as it sounds, I’m sort of glad you’re here.” He paused. “Don’t know if I would’ve survived just your brother.” His laugh sounded strained, as if there was more he wanted to say, but it was a welcome sound all the same. 
The more time passed, the more commonplace those kinds of conversations were. When Enzo or you had a tough session, the other would slip into rambling about anything they could think of. Depending on how everything was timed, Damon would be there too, joining in but mostly listening to whoever was talking.
Even when years had passed and  you felt as though you had shared all your stories and talked about everything under the sun, you’d all sit around and pretend you hadn’t heard the same story seven times already just so that you could have something to laugh at again. So much so that George Lockwood became a running joke.
“I’m no George, but I know a thing or two about…” being a common one. “George would never,” and even better, because he was a dick, “George definitely would.”
One of these conversations, however, caught you off guard.
“I think we have a plan.” Enzo’s voice pulled you out of your pain induced exhaustion.
Shortly after, you pulled yourself up into a sitting position and pushed them to explain. Enzo told Damon about the Augustine’s party that was hosted every once in a while. They brought the vampires in cages upstairs and showed off everything they had learned through their torture, while scientists and other guests gawked at the monsters in captivity.
Because of how weak they kept the vampires, the people of Augustine didn’t really invest that much into security. If one of them were to have a little bit more strength, they could get out. Or attempt it anyway.
It was decided that Damon would get all of Enzo’s share of blood for the foreseeable future, as you couldn’t get nor give any of yours to either of them while being on the other side of the hall. Damon would then be able to overpower any of the Augustine scientists and get all three of them out when the time came.
“So, we’re actually gonna,” you cut yourself off. Even when whispering the fear that someone could overhear rocketed through you.
“Yeah, we are.” Damon reassured. “All of us.”
“So,” Enzo asked, quietly. Damon had fallen asleep some time ago, and you and Enzo had been sitting, staring at each other in silence since. “What’s the first thing your going to do when we get out?”
“Other than find someone to eat?” You smirked, matching his volume. Enzo chuckled, and nodded for you to give a real answer. Thinking for a moment, you knew there was no other answer. “I’m gonna fix things with Stefan. You?”
Enzo paused, then gave a half smile. “I’m gonna take you on a date.”
You almost choked on your saliva, your eyes going wide. His smile widened at your reaction, and you let out a nervous giggle before responding. “No really.”
“Really.” He said. “I’ve been sitting here, staring at the most amazing, wonderful creature in existence, being unable to do anything but admire for years.” Looking at him, there was never a moment where he looked more genuine in the whole time you had been here, and you could feel your heartbeat speed up at the realization.
“I’ll follow you anywhere, if you’d allow it, gorgeous.” The two of you held eye contact through the darkness. “But I’m starting with a date.”
You glanced away, checking to see that Damon was still asleep. “Uh huh. And,” you paused for a moment locking eyes with Enzo again. “Say I said yes to this date,” even in the darkness you could see his face light up, “how would that go?”
It seemed that smile was permanently etched on his face. “Well, I’m a little behind on the times, but I have a few ideas.”
You gestured for him to continue, keeping a smirk on your face like you weren’t dying to know what he would say next.
“I’m thinking flowers, a classic,” you nodded, echoing him. “I’d ask you to get all dressed up and take you somewhere that serves whatever you want, and we’d drink and dance and torment anyone who was rude to us through the night.” Your lips quirked upward without your say. “Then I’d take you to a clearing in the woods, or to a lake or wherever was close, and dance with you there under the stars.”
Enzo leaned forward slightly, and you found yourself doing the same. “Yeah?”
Chuckling quietly to himself, he continued. “Yeah. My favorite part is that the whole night I’d be teasing you. Flirting, and affectionate, and getting just close enough that you think at any point I’d kiss you. But,” He gave a shit eating grin. “I’m nothing if not a gentleman, and you’d be waiting all night until I drop you off at wherever you're staying before kissing you until you can’t breathe.”
“And if I invited you in?” Enzo raised his eyebrows at you. “Would you still be a gentleman then?”
“Well, now. Who would I be to deny you?”
The next few months you felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. With every day you were one step closer to being free. It was obvious in all of you, the fear of it not working out was overshadowed by the hope and the belief that soon it would be over.
Laughter became lighter, the conversations became easier, and the pain felt like nothing. It was terrifying, but electrifying at the same time, especially for you and Damon.
The scientists at Augustine had decided that in order to make sure that the vampires were ready for being showcased, and that everything was perfectly prepared, they would end their “experiments” for a week before the event. You and Damon had already had your last session, and while you were worried for Enzo, all three of you were content with the knowledge that this was the last time you would ever see the nasty end of a scalpel.
“I never could get into reading. Especially now that they have films, why would I read something when now I can just watch it.” Damon’s voice rang loudly through the cell hall.
“You could never get into reading because you're an idiot, mate.” You laughed loudly at Enzo’s comment.
“He didn’t even grow up with you and he knows.”
Damon glared. “Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious.”
Enzo went to say something else, probably calling Damon another name, when the door to the hall opened and the tell-tale sound of gurney wheels rolling down the hall reverberated through their cells. Your heart sped up and you looked at Enzo, worried.
All of you knew what was coming. Enzo looked back at you, and smiled softly. Nodding his head at you, you watched as the scientist vervained Enzo and pulled him out of his cell.
His eyes never left yours as they laid him on the gurney and strapped him down, and as much as you wanted to look away, you held his gaze. Enzo clenched his jaw before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. As they wheeled him out, you whispered, “Just one more.”
This time, out of all the others, it was impossible to focus on anything other than his screams. It was almost as if they knew what the vampires had been planning and were making sure that they hurt Enzo as much as they could just one last time.
You could hear every disgusting sound that came with them ripping into him, and every whimper Enzo let out as a result. You swore you could ever hear the sound of tears dropping on the ground.
As time flew by in Augustine, you’d debated with yourself what the worst thing about it was. Was it the starvation? The torture? The looks of the scientists who saw you as an animal to dissect over and over and over again?
No, this was it.
Being forced to listen to Enzo cry out in pain for hours on end. Not even listening to Damon get hurt was this intense. As much as you hated to say it, growing up with him and your father had made you accustomed to your brother in pain. But with Enzo it was different.
Knowing that Enzo had been here, enduring this for so long by himself, only to deal with again every single day. A never ending nightmare in which you couldn’t do a damn thing about it. You couldn’t even hold him.
All you could do was sit and listen as he suffered, and hope that this time wouldn’t be the time that broke him, because if he broke, you knew that you would surely follow.
Hours passed by, in which the only thing that kept you sane was picturing him smiling, flirting with you as he always did just because he knew it would make you laugh. Finally, finally the screaming stopped.
You opted to stay silent while the scientists brought him back in. Pissing them off and potentially getting yourself attacked because of it didn’t seem like the best thing to do. As soon as they left the room, you were as close to the bars as you could be without being burned by the vervain.
“Enzo?” He didn’t respond. “Enzo?” You spoke a little louder, your voice trembling slightly.
He laid still, not even groaning, and even Damon looked slightly worried. He should’ve been healing faster than this, and he would’ve if he’d had more blood in his system.
“Enzo, please! Just, say something. Or move, or groan or something.” Your breath was caught in your chest. In the whole time you’d been here, you’d rarely seen him this bad.
After what felt like hours of waiting, Enzo finally stirred with a soft groan. “Enzo?”
He groaned again, unmoving despite having seemed to have gathered a small bit of strength. You glanced over to Damon’s cell where he looked just as concerned as you were.
Before you could say more, the scientist came back in and set down the tiny cups of blood in front of the cells and then promptly walked back out.
Enzo began moving then. Very slowly he made his way to the front of the cell and slowly slid his cup towards Damons cell.
“Wait, Enzo.” He paused, his face scrunched up as he looked at you. “You should take yours today.” You glanced at Damon who nodded at you. “You need to heal.”
“I’ll be fine, gorgeous.” His voice was scratchy and barely audible. Hearing it made tears that you had been holding off before gather in your eyes.
You slowly moved towards the front of your cell as you spoke. “I’m serious, Enzo. Damon can survive one day without it, you-”
“So can I.” For the first time since you’d got here, his piercing glare was on you instead of one of your torturers. “We need to stick to the plan.”
You sighed out in frustration. “We have been, and you're in so much pain you can barely move.” Leaning against the wall just before the bars, you watched as Enzo’s expression softened. “Please, just… Take a little at least, please.”
Enzo closed his eyes, on the verge of listening to your tearful begging, but ultimately shook his head. Sliding the cup the rest of the way, he mirrored your position against the wall and locked eyes with you. “Just a few more days, gorgeous. Then you can hold me till I feel better.”
You let your head fall back against the wall, and watched as Enzo tried to reassure you by smiling through the pain. “Fine,” as soon as the words left your mouth Damon had his hands on the cup. “But I’m mad at you for it.”
“I know.”
Finally. Finally. It was happening.
After five long, hard years, the day had come. Enzo had healed, eventually, Damon was stronger than everyone thought, and you were the focus of the scientists because of your previous attitude. Everything was coming together and in just a little longer, you would all be free.
You tried not to let it show on your face, but anytime you glanced at Enzo or Damon, you knew that you had the same light in your eyes as they did. All three of you were waiting for the perfect moment, hope was no longer just a distant sound you were clinging onto desperately. Your escape was right in front of you, practically pulling you towards it, and you were ready.
Men and women walked and talked all around you, though never too close to the cages despite believing they were perfectly safe. The smell of blood filled with vervain was all around you, and you were half tempted to drain one of them just so that they knew how it felt to feel the blood slowly leaving your body, unable to move or fight, knowing that the only thing you could do was wait for whatever you attacker decided to do with you.
Just one look at Enzo and you could tell he was debating the same thing.
One of the scientists from Augustine began talking, some long speech about his research and the saving of mankind. You rolled your eyes at that, and the man standing next to your cage tapped the side of it in warning.
Damon glanced over at you, nodding subtly. The men then moved to open Damon’s cage to show off their “domesticated vampire.” They pulled him out, and Damon played the part. Ducking his head and feigning exhaustion, the scientists let their guard down.
A woman got close to your cage while admiring Damon, and thus your part of the plan came into play. You snarled at her, lunging within your cage and ignoring the vervain lacing it.
The man watching over you immediately jumped into action, poking you with a wooden spear, also laced in vervain. Until the main scientist told him to stop.
He handed Damon over to two of the other scientists, and turned to you, motioning for the woman to back up and for someone to start undoing the door to your cage.
“You all must be wondering how we’ve accomplished such a feat. Making vampire’s docile and having them under our control.” Three men pulled you out of your cage, one of them holding a stake to your back just in case. “Most of it has to do with their diet, only giving them enough to stay alive and moving while we conduct our experiments, but the other part of our system is a little more, hands on.”
He grabbed one of the stakes from someone near him and plunged it into your stomach. “You see, with their healing capabilities not at full capacity, it doesn’t take much to render them useless.”
You gritted your teeth, holding back the scream you wanted to let out. Before you knew it, Damon had killed the two men holding him while everyone was focused on you. Chaos had broken out.
Everyone who wasn’t a part of Augustine began to run for their lives, while the ones who worked there tried getting him under control. But, just as you had planned, he was stronger than they expected him to be.
You threw the men on you away from you with what strength you had, snapping the neck of the main scientist who stood in front of you, paralyzed in shock and fear.
Damon went after the remaining Augustine employees while you tried getting Enzo’s cage open, hissing in pain at the vervain. In fighting off the humans, Damon had knocked over a lantern, and fire had begun to spread.
The smoke quickly filled up the room, and in your weakened state you could barely stand to be in the building.
“Go,” Damon came up behind you, covered in blood. “I’ll get him out, but you need to leave.” He grabbed your arms, steadying you when you continued fighting with the cage door. “I can’t carry you both.”
You glanced at Enzo, your breaths both speeding up in fear and becoming short and heavy from the fire. “Get out of here, watch out for any more of them coming.”
A second more passed before you nodded, and rushed out of the building. You took a deep breath, falling to your knees and feeling free for the first time in five years. Doing what Enzo had asked, you used your sensitive hearing to listen for any sounds in the woods, hoping that everyone from Augustine was lying dead in that building.
A few moments later, Damon came walking out of the building. You rushed over to him and pulled him into a hug, and he tensed when you looked around.
“Where’s Enzo?” He hung his head, and tried pushing you away from the building, eyes glimmering in guilt.
“We need to go.” He said, his voice tight and heavy. 
You pushed him away. “You-... No!” Rushing forward, you tried getting back into the building, but got stopped.
“We’re leaving. Now!” You shook your head violently, trying to fight your way through him, but he was too strong.
“I’m not leaving without him, Damon!” Tears began running down your face at the realization that Damon was going to leave him behind. “How could you- No!”
“Listen!” He stopped you, and at the look on his face, you did. Footsteps through the woods hit your ears. So many footsteps. “Someone saw the smoke and their coming, I can’t get the door open and the fire almost took everything.” He pulled you into a hug. “We can’t save him, kid.”
You held the hug for a moment, before gathering every bit of strength you had left in you, and shoved him away. Anger and sadness filled you. “Then I’ll die with him!”
Rushing back into the building, and leaving Damon behind, you appeared in front of Enzo’s cage. His eyes were sunken in and tears were streaming down them.
Enzo and you both started banging on the cage door, pulling and trying to break the lock. But between the fire, the vervain, and not having the strength to do anything, the cage door was winning.
The footsteps reached Enzo’s ears as the fire got closer and closer to him and you. A shock ran through him, and despite being hurt by Damon’s betrayal, he suddenly realized that he was right. You would die here with him if you didn’t leave.
Enzo said your name, yelling it when you didn’t respond. “You need to leave.”
At his words, you paused, eyes shooting up to him. “What? No!”
Your hands swiftly went back to trying to break the lock, ignoring the bright red burning of your flesh as you did. But Enzo wouldn’t have it. “Please, if you don’t leave you’ll die!”
“I don’t care!”
His hands shot through the bars and grabbed yours. “Well I do!”
You could hear men trying to push their way through the fallen ceiling debris, forcing their way closer to you on one side, while the fire got closer on the other.
“I will see you again, I promise you.” Enzo spoke quickly, his undead heart beating faster and faster at the thought of you dying for him. “But you need to leave, run please!”
Tears fell faster and faster down your face, and a crash sounded behind you, men shouting. “I love you!” You said, holding his hand for the first time. “I love you, Enzo.”
He squeezed your hands in his own, his expression a mixture of sorrow and elation that mirrored yours.
“Then live for me.”
You ducked out into the woods, running as fast as you could, which given all the vervain in your system from the stake from earlier and the men chasing you down, wasn’t very fast even for a human.
Stumbling around, you could barely see in front of you, tears blinding your vision. The sound of running behind you kept you going though, you would not be taken back. Not after everything.
A sound up ahead of you caught your attention, and the smell of human blood invaded your senses. Another vampire?
You pushed your way through the trees, heading towards the sound hoping you would run into another of your kind. If anything they’d probably kill the men with stakes and vervain and leave you to die, or at least be a distraction for you to get away.
An arrow whizzed past your head and you narrowly dodged a second one. The third however, struck you in the leg. The burning of vervain entering your system hit you immediately.
You cried out, pushing forwards still. “You fuckers!”
In moments, you came upon a man, no, he was a vampire. An older gentleman in a suit, feeding on a woman. He eyed you curiously before another arrow shot through the air, striking you in the back.
“Please,” you whimpered, shoving yourself towards the man who dropped the woman’s body to catch you. “Help me.”
“Hold on.”
The man set you on the ground, before leaving to go after the men who were chasing you. Their screams filled your ears, and you would’ve smirked had you not been sobbing on the ground.
Damning Damon for leaving Enzo behind, damning yourself for not being able to save him, and damning Enzo, most of all, for making you fall in love with him.
A silence fell over the woods, and you slipped in and out of delirium. You felt yourself choking on your own breath, your face wet with tears and blood, the man from before hovered over you.
Though you could tell he was speaking, no sound reached your ears. The only thing to leave your lips before slipping into the darkness being, “I’m sorry.”
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strangelysamantha · 24 days ago
Text
blue moon ❀
damon salvatore x fem!reader.
warnings: swearing.
words: 973.
summary: coming back to mystic falls in the hope that you'll reunite with your former lover, damon salvatore.
request? no
a/n: cute little fluff :) the rendition of the song im speaking of is blue moon sha na na but specifically the grease edition because its slower paced.
my masterlist
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blue moon,
you saw me standing alone,
without a dream in my heart,
without a love of my own.
you sat at the mystic grill. it was a friday night, the grill was always swarming with people then. you had recently came back. you moved away for five years trying to reshape your life after being turned. you weren’t expecting much to come out of it, the only reason you showed was to see who was still in town. you walk to a bar stool, claiming it. you ask for a shot, ready to let loose.
you saw a lot of familiar faces. none you were too particularly interested in. honestly; you were just hoping to run into an old lover. you look around, after a few more shots you stood up from the bar. there was no sign of him anywhere. you grab your jacket, heading outside. you stroll the streets of town. the breeze crisp, the sky dark.
you're at the bridge now, stumbling throughout the night. you look down at the water, mind drowning with your own thoughts. the peacefulness took over, you gracefully make your way back to the center of town. the stroll allowed you to calm your nerves, maybe he wasn't here. a certain chill ran throughout your spine then. looking down, a crow rests in front of you on the sidewalk. you eye it, intrigued. after a longing look, you continue down the path.
blue moon, you knew just what i was there for, you heard me saying a prayer for, someone i really could care for.
you end up at the grill again, heading inside you scope the place. you head to the bathroom, wanting to take a breather before socializing. after a last glance in the mirror, you leave the bathroom. your eyes fall onto a figure, occupying your seat you had claimed earlier. his black hair fell at his shoulders, a black leatherjacket snug on his skin. your heart stops, a breath caught in your throat. you wanted to see him yes, but the fact he was in front of you, downing bourbon as he talks to another gentleman gave you butterflies. you hesitate, tempted to start a conversation. you decide against it, not wanting him to get an ego at your rush of a reunion.
you grab a few darts, throwing them at the board. "hey." you look over. a girl with blonde hair, and blue eyes, grins excitingly. "hi?" you question. "have i seen you before?" she asks softly. "it's my first day in town actually." her face contorts into confusion. "i lived here five years ago though." you reassure. "hmm, i wonder where i've seen you." you laugh slightly, "i'm not sure." she shrugs, "well it's nice to meet you. i'm caroline!" you nod, "it's nice to meet you caroline." she happily bounces towards the bar, grabbing shots. you laugh slightly to yourself, surprised by her bubbly personality. you get back to throwing darts. you send one flying to the board, a hand reaches out and grabs it before it can land. "hi darling." damon hands the dart back to you, smirking. "hello, damon." you bite your lip slightly, "i think you owe me a drink or two." he grins, taking your arm. "of course." he leads you to the bar stool next to his pal from earlier. "this is alaric, he's a great drinking buddy." you reach a handout, "and who's this?" he questions.
damon places one of his hands on your back, rubbing it gently. "this is a sight for sore eyes. a treasure if you will." his words surprise you. "i've been waiting for this moment rick." you join in, "it's been way too long damon." he nods agreeing. "hey donavon!" the bartender walks over, groaning. "yes?" his voice is laced with agitation already. "shots please and keep them coming."
he walked away, damon glances over, his lips pulled into a smirk. “where have you been all this time?” you hesitate, “working on myself. but i’m good now.” the bartender pours three shots. “what have you been up too damon?” alaric intervenes, "terrorizing the citizens of mystic falls." his comment made you chuckle, "so nothing's changed huh." the three of you down the shots together. "nothing at all."
alaric calls it a night, having school tomorrow. leaving you and damon alone at the bar. "im really glad you decided to come back." you smile softly at his confession, "im glad you're still here. i was worried i'd come back, and you'd have fled already." he tilts his head to the side, his eyes locked with yours. "i guess i stayed because a part of me knew you would come back for me." it was getting late now; the bar was emptying. "i've missed you a lot damon."
and then there suddenly appeared before me the only one my arms will hold i heard somebody whisper, "please, adore me" and when i looked, the moon had turned to gold
he couldn't resist. he softly cups your chin, pulling you into a soft and tender kiss. you gently kiss back, you run your hands through his hair. you pulled away softly, "may you join me in a dance?" you asked. he grinned, "of course." he takes your hand, leading you to an empty space inside the mystic grill. slow music was playing over the speakers. you held damon close, your head on his chest, he held your waist firmly, his other hand holding yours. "can i stay with you?" you lift your head to look at him. "anything. ask for whatever and i will personally make sure you get it." he squeezes your waist, spinning you around, kissing you again.
blue moon, now i'm no longer alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
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halfmoonshines · 7 months ago
Note
Hey! I saw that your requests are open and I wanted to know if I could get a fluffy angst with Damon Salvatore x poc(or ambiguous appearance, if that's easier for you) fem reader, in which she is his girlfriend and consoles him after Lily's death and understand why he reacted the way he did and don't judge him, please?
thank you for the prompt; it got me to write today!!
send any fic requests here!!
Unrepenting
damon x f!poc reader
summary; Being untouchable was one of the only things Damon had ever had a chance of being in control over. He didn't like sentimental threats to that carefully crafted shield, but if his mother dying again didn't splinter it, your love for him certainly would
angst/fluff
˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.
Damon didn't know he was holding his breath until your hand landed on his back and he gave a sharp intake.
"I thought I would find you out here." Your warm, lilting voice was a balm over the ice that had been frosting his skin for the last hour. Since the incident.
"You know this is my favorite place to drink. The view is impeccable." Damon had always favored your family home, nestled at the edge of town right on the forest line.
The house was nice, large property and wrap around porch with perfect seating to watch the sun rise over the trees. He would always sneak out of your bed in the early hours of the morning and sit in one of your fluffy reading chairs that he swears are over the top, just to watch the sky pink on the horizon. Since having to give up the boarding house, he's basically moved in.
He wasn't relaxing in a lounger now, though. He was leaned against the railing of the porch with a glass in his hand, posture indicating nonchalance but the tightness in his shoulders told you everything you needed to know.
Your hand came around from his back to his chest, eyes trying to demand his attention. He was distracted for a moment, by how beautiful you always are. Ever-soft hair and skin a darker shade of brown than any time in the sun could do, lips that always smiled at him. Even when other people didn't.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked quietly, mouth worriedly pursing instead.
His hand that had been rising to meet yours dropped, jaw clenching as he turned back to face the treeline. "Nothing to talk about. She's dead and conveniently left us with the problem of her insane boyfriend."
His words were venomous, a swift gulp from his glass following them. You knew Damon, knew the ins and outs of his bravado and his trauma. You knew that his hatred for his mothers actions, and his grief over losing her in so many ways were not mutually exclusive. They roiled together inside of him like angry lions staking a claim.
You leaned up next to him, eyes searching for his again as he favored the sky. "We definitely do have a problem we still need to handle. And she is gone. Really gone, this time."
His tumultuous feelings simmered in the back of his throat, coating his thoughts in the same black ink reserved for all of those that he had loved too much. "Are you here to lecture me on how unhealthy it is to pretend I don't care that my mommy is dead?" He said it like a joke, some small child asking for extra desert. "Because I'm not pretending. That bitch did everything but be a mother, and now I have someone else chomping at the bit to murder me or send me to eternal prison because she couldn't even handle being a martyr correctly."
Your body shifted in front of his quickly and efficiently, shimmying yourself between the deck and him, demanding his full attention. His eyes met yours reluctantly after your hands came to rest on his chest, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the fabric there.
"She was unhealthy, Damon. She never once chose you when it mattered, and all you wanted was what all kids want from their mothers. Love. She couldn't give it to you, and no matter what everyone else thinks - there's no right way to heal from that. You were expected to process a lot of things emotionally very quickly, and to be honest, I'm not sure she deserved your forgiveness. No one can tell you how to feel. I'm just so proud that you're allowing yourself to feel anything."
His hands coming up to touch your face almost distracted you from the mist in his eyes, and you offered him a small smile while he sought comfort at your touch.
Damon wasn't very sure about anything in his long life, even the emotions battling inside him now were ambiguous and clouded. But the dark haired man knew with every fucking fiber of his being that you were going to destroy him one day. The tears threatening to fall from his eyes an indication of the hold you had on his soul. He didn't want to think of his mom. The abandonment, resentment and lies. It bled into everything else in that little box he keeps tucked away. His father and Katherine and Stefan and Elena and everyone who had ever promised to protect him but ripped him to shreds instead were pounding at their confines, begging to wreak havoc on him.
"This really fucking sucks." His voice was almost a whisper, tears falling just as silently.
Your posture changed to match his, mirror images. Stood bent over each other, hands cupping the others face. Your fingers moved slowly, wiping the moisture from his cheeks. "It does fucking suck. You can feel however you want about that. However, we will be together in this. Whatever this is. Always."
You loved him before he saved your life, but now he was ingrained into every part of you. That night a year ago changed nothing about how you felt for Damon - he was always meant to be yours.
"Can I hold you?" Damon needed something tangible to ground him, your satin curves molded to his chest.
"Let's go inside, babe." Your smile was the same as it always was for him, large and glittering, as you grabbed one of his hands from your face to lead him inside.
You were thinking of just how much Damon Salvatore had grown over the last few years while he was moseying after you into the house, drink dangling from his fingers while he thought of what wedding ring would fit your beautiful umber colored hand best.
˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.
my works
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fitzs-trained-monkey · 2 years ago
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Bruised and Battered
Kol Mikaelson Helping You Through An Injury Headcanons :
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(Prepare for immense fluff)
Sweet baby Kol...
First of all, this boi would feel sooooooo awful about you getting hurt.
(How could this happen??? He left you alone for five seconds???)
He doesn't blame you at all whatsoever. Even if you were being dumb.
If it was someone else's fault...
Well, let's just say that if you broke an arm, this person would find both arms freaking shattered beyond recognition.
Is that useless hunk of flesh even an arm anymore? Nobody knows.
He does get a little frustrated with you tho. Just a bit
Why won't you take his blood? It would make this so much easier!
(news flash: that's nasty and you don't want to take no chances!)
It physically pains him when the doctors won't let him go back with you for x-rays. He can hear your whimpers of pain through the walls and it makes him want to cry. He just curls up in a ball and waits it out.
If you have to get surgery??
Heaven help the poor hospital staff...
It KILLS him that he can't be by your side the whole time.
Kol would be pacing back and forth in the waiting room, tugging at his hair and telling himself all the reasons you're gonna be fine. Over and over and over again.
He is there the second you wake up.
Technically he's not supposed to be, but if compulsion can't keep the nurses and doctors quiet then the cold chilling glare he dishes out certainly will.
Once you're home, you will not be doing anything for yourself.
Movies.
Anything you want to watch. All day. Even if he hates it.
Unlimited popcorn supply!
He will get you whatever you want to eat or better yet he'll compel someone else to do it so he doesn't have to leave your side.
So. Many. Hugs.
Cuddles.
Cuddles all the time
All the cuddles.
Seeing you in pain tortures him.
If he accidentally bumps you he will apologize ENDLESSLY.
He's always asking what he can do to make it better
He can't really do anything and that's the worst part
You just ask him to stay
He's only too glad to do just that.
Though he certainly remembers to give you your medication. Even if it's 1 AM. He never forgets.
He stays with you all through the night. Every night.
If you wake up in tears from sleeping wrong, he's right there to hold you close.
If it were up to him, he would never let you go.
Scars from surgery?
Kol would make it his mission to keep you from hating them.
He would tell you how cool they look all the time
Also, the gentlest kisses.
He would kiss every inch of those scars.
Endless "I love you"s
Don't think for a second that you're a burden because he will go into a 20 minute speech about how he has literally nothing better to do with his immortal existence.
When it's time for physical therapy, he always makes sure you can get to your appointments.
Kol would 100% compel the therapists to let him come back with you and cheer you on (even though seeing you struggle makes him want to scoop you up and hold you until the tears go away)
He always makes sure you do your exercises too. There is no amount of bribing that can sway this man. You are doing those exercises.
End. Of. Story.
So encouraging tho. The complements are ever flowing from his lips.
And again, all the cuddles after you finish.
Constantly making jokes.
"If I rip off one of your arms, that will make it better right? I mean, it will certainly distract you from the pain!"
Kol would also help you come up with an excellent story for how it happened.
Whether it be jousting on unicorns, fencing with glass blades, or assassinating the president, there is no limit to his creativity.
Kol would do literally anything to see you smile.
Special thanks to: @space-princess-charming
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star-girl-05 · 2 months ago
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Mama I'm In Love With A Criminal
Kol Mikaelson x Reader
~★~❤︎~✦~
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Inspo~ Mama I'm in love with a criminal And this type of love isn't rational, it's physical Mama please don't cry, I will be alright All reason aside I just can't deny, I love the guy ~Britney Spears
You should have known he was too good to be true. He was the perfect boyfriend, handsome, funny, caring, and he had an accent -A BRITISH ACCENT. He was just too perfect, he had to have a flaw though it didn’t have to be such a big one. I mean you could get over the vampire thing if anything it was kinda a plus I mean everyone goes through a vampire phase. Even the fact he’s related to Klaus, wasn’t a complete deal breaker. No, what you couldn't get over is the fact he beat Jeremy up with a bat and nearly pummeled the boy to death. You can still remember the call you got from elena she was in tears begging you to come back to mystic falls. 
You had decided to go along with Jeremy when Elena sent him away just wanting to have a normal life with no drama. Though you unknowingly had fallen smack dab in the middle. 
You were packing up your room, desperate to get back home and comfort your friend. A knock on your door has you freezing. You were hoping it was anyone but Kol, you had no desire to see him. After that call with Elena you never even wanted to hear his name again. You felt like such a fool, you were just a pawn, a means to mess with Elena. 
“Darling would you open the door?”, you don’t move hoping that your silence will make him leave. “I suppose you heard about the Jeremy thing but it was nothing personal. Now open the door before I kick it in” you thought the threat over, eventually deciding to stand you don’t know how you would explain a kicked in door. 
You kept your face neutral as you opened the door, Kol on the other hand wore a smirk. “I do hope your not here to beat me with a bat”, in truth you should be scared but you just couldn’t bring yourself to be. No, you're already feeling too much to be scared of him. 
“Darling,” he reached out, going to stroke your cheek, you quickly dodge. It didn’t seem to upset him though. “Even when you're mad I find you completely irresistible.” You tried your best not to be affected by his words. Yet you still found your heart quickening, in your defense it was only a short while ago that this man was your boyfriend. It was only fitting that there was residual feelings even if you wished there weren't. “Let me make it up to you” he’s reaching for you once more, this time however he moves too fast for you to react. His lips smashing against yours in a heart aching kiss. 
“Kol” you mumble against his lips. Your arms rest on his chest your not sure if you wish to push him away or pull him closer. 
“I love it when you say my name” he groans as he moves his lips against your neck. You shouldn’t let this continue.
“Kol we shouldn’t-I shouldn’t” you finally managed to push him away. Or at least get him to stop kissing you. He still had you held close against her. 
“I don’t want this to get between us, I care for you shouldn’t that be all that matters?” His words gave you pause. You wish it was that easy but the ‘this’ he’s talking about is him beating up your friend's brother. You couldn’t just look past that. “If you can overlook your friends' actions towards my family, then why can’t you look over mine towards theirs?”. His question had you pausing. When he said it like that you realized just how hypocritical you had been. 
When it came to your friends you always excused their actions, even the most questionable ones, because they only did what they had to. So if you can excuse their actions maybe you could forgive Kols. “I’m not saying I condone your actions because I don’t but-” you're not even able to finish your sentence before Kol is kissing you. This time you don’t push him away. 
For now you just want to focus on the warm feeling he makes erupt in your chest. Not on how your friends are bound to react to your choice in men, but what can you do your in love. Even if he may be a criminal in their minds to you he’s just your Love.
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mrs-kmikaelson · 1 year ago
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07| The Tribrid
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader, Marcel Gerard x mostly platonic!reader Summary: Trying to figure out a way to get Klaus to trust you, you reminisce over the past and how trust was earned in a similar situation. Warnings: none Words: 3.7K
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a/n: does anyone know how i can fix the gifs from like not centring? it looks fine on my laptop but horrible on mobile😭
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NEW ORLEANS, 1970
Strobe lights went all across the room, music blaring, but I could barely tell what song was playing, too distracted by what I was doing—or, rather, who I was about to do. I ran my fingers through his hair while his hand crept up my skirt, our kiss getting more passionate by the second.
His name didn't matter. All I cared about was the fun we were about to have. 
"Why don't we take this somewhere more private," he mumbled in between kisses. 
I nodded against him, giving him one last kiss before whispering in his ear. "Back alley." The fact that I was drunk didn't stop me from leading us across the dance floor to the back where I'd been many times before. I knew the owner—who was also a really good kisser—and so I knew where to go.
I felt the cold air hit us as soon as we got outside, despite feeling so hot. As soon as the door closed, I turned around, intending on pulling him back in for a kiss, but I almost staggered back when I saw the same man I was kissing just moments ago with veins crawling underneath his eyes, fangs protruding in his mouth.
What the fuck?
I quickly sobered up, baring my own fangs at him. The atmosphere went from hot and sexy to dark in an instant. 
His eyes widened. While his voice was surprised, there was still an undertone of hostility. "You're a vampire?"
I narrowed my eyes. "You didn't know?" God, how drunk was he? I smelt that he was a night crawler immediately. Clearly, he thought I was a human and wanted to leave so he could suck me dry.
That wasn't happening. For obvious reasons.
He cursed under his breath. For a second, I thought we'd get back to what we were doing; I mean, I just cleared this up. I was gonna be generous and continue to make out with him in spite of the fact that he just tried to kill me, but this dude just had to kill my fun, too.
He tried charging at me, but my magic worked faster than even vamp speed. Quickly, I rushed, "Motus!" and he was sent flying into the wall. My eyes widened. Fuckkkkkk, man.
I just wanted to get laid.
I wasn't supposed to do that. I was supposed to punch him, maybe snap his neck—I was supposed to do something that a vampire would do. A vampire doesn't just move things with their mind.
I thought I was soberer than that, but it seemed that the alcohol was still affecting me because I just sent a fucking vampire flying. Shock was all over the guy's face, his pretty, pretty face that I just wanted to have a good time with.
Fuck. Now I'd have to kill him.
He remained against the wall, but he didn't wait much longer before firing questions at me. "What the hell was that-"
I cut him off, "Look, man, I wasn't planning on doing a lot of talking with you tonight." Annoyance laced my voice. He didn't respond as quickly, just looking at me with an extremely analyzing gaze. I didn't doubt that he was confused. People don't just come across people like me. 
He was silent until it looked like a light bulb went off in his head. "Tribrid," he muttered under his breath, almost like I wasn't meant to hear it, but I did.
My blood went cold. "What did you just say?" I asked, but he ignored me, continuing to mutter under his breath.
"I knew a guy once—he was half wolf, half vampire." If he didn't have my attention before, he sure as hell did now. Because I only knew one person that matched that description, and that was Klaus Mikaelson.
My body went rigid while the guy took little notice, seeming to put together a bunch of puzzle pieces in his head. "Yeah-" he paused, looking up at me, "I've heard chatter. Witches saying something about a... triangle: werewolf, vampire... and witch."
Chatter? He's heard chatter? A thousand things went through my mind at once. That was impossible. Nobody knew about me. I just got to this city; there was no way witches have managed to decipher a secret I've spent centuries keeping.
Against my will, my tone was now less calm. "I don't know what you're-"
"I think you do know what I'm talking about." The guy's eyes were hard as he stared right back at me. I thought he was just some baby vamp, but it appeared that he was proving me wrong. He took a step closer to me. "You're the tribrid, aren't you?"
I almost laughed, even though I was full of nerves while, just seconds ago, I was fine. "You must have a death wish," I remarked. Maybe I could've left him alone, convinced him to forget about my display of magic and just left town. But now he not only saw that, but he also knew exactly who I was and he'd go running to tell everyone else.
He had to go. It's a shame, though, I thought, he was such a good kisser.
I stepped closer to him and he immediately got the message, eyes widening again once he realized that I had the upper hand. "No, no," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "I promise you; you do not want to kill me."
I scoffed, "And why is that?"
"Listen, I hold a lot of influence around here-"
I scoffed again. "I really don't care." Throwing power around was a politician's move, and politicians only lied to you. I wasn't gonna take my chances.
I was walking towards him, taking one step forward for every step he took back until he blurted, "My name is Marcel Gerard." At this, I stopped. Marcel Gerard... I knew that name. I stood still, racking my brain until I realized why his name sounded so familiar.
Marcel Gerard literally ruled this city. I'd been in New Orleans for not even a few days yet you could hear vampires and witches alike mentioning him often.
Damnit. Of course, I not only meet the guy who the vampires in this city worship, but I also end up locking lips with him and have him find out what I am.
I just wanted to have fun.
He saw recognition on my face, causing his own to light up. "So, you know who I am." I nodded in response, exasperatedly rolling my eyes. All of this had completely caused my buzz to dissipate into thin air. "Look..." he trailed off, making a gesture with his hands.
I rolled my again. "Y/N."
"Look, Y/N, I know what you are. I figured it out in seconds. There's already speculation of a tribrid going around with the witches-"
"Get to the fucking point, Marcel, before I just decide to kill you. Believe me, I am not in the mood to deal with this right now."
He didn't waste any more time. "I can get the witches to back off and find something else to fixate on. I can bury just the thought of a tribrid being out there, Y/N," he emphasized. 
I wonder just how dumb he thought I was. I shook my head. "So you want me not to kill you, just so you can go blab to whoever you see as soon as I leave you alone?" He shook his head right back at me.
"I won't say a thing, trust me." He paused. "We can help each other."
"Oh, c'mon-"
"No, I'm being serious," he asserted, no longer looking like he was backed into a corner but much more assured than before. "Killing me wouldn't do you any good. My people would search relentlessly for my killer, and the witches would only keep digging, possibly striking gold at some point. You keep me alive, and I can get rid of that for you." 
I only stared at him with narrow eyes. He looked confident in the bar, that's what drew me to him, but I wasn't expecting anything like this. He had a point, but that didn't mean it was enough to stop me from killing him. And if I didn't like this city, then I'd kill him without any qualms and leave. But I do like this city. I want to stay here, and I knew I couldn't stay here with him dead and with the witches suspicious.
I couldn't afford to make enemies. Right now, what I needed were friends.
I'd already made up my mind, but Marcel didn't know that, still trying to get me to see a vision that I already understood. "We can make a good team, Y/N."
I didn't say anything for a few more seconds, thinking everything over in my mind. I could possibly be making the biggest mistake of my life right now, I thought. But I was already set. I kept my voice cold and devoid of emotion. "I'm giving you twenty-four hours to make this witch thing go away, Marcel."
A weight was lifted off his shoulders. "And I'll do just that." I wasn't gonna stick around much longer. This was already much more conversation than I was anticipating to have tonight, and we clearly weren't gonna have sex, so without another thought, I sped out of the alley.
Little did I know, that night marked the start of one of the rest of my life in New Orleans.
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THE PRESENT
I was pulled out of my reverie when I saw Marcel came into my vision, sitting down on the chair opposite to me. We started out trying to kill each other, and now look: we were meeting for coffee. 
I didn't trust him when I first met him, even after he made my problems with the witches disappear. That wasn't enough. And it also wasn't enough for him to insist I work with him. Those were things he was doing for his own benefit, so, of course, that didn't inspire my trust in him.
I only started trusting Marcel after he opened up to me about his past. Doing that, getting vulnerable with someone—that showed that you trusted them. And what better way to get someone to trust you than to show that you trust them?
I wasn't just reminiscing for the sake of it. The way Marcel got me to trust him was what I'd been forgetting throughout all my interactions with Klaus. I couldn't just ask him to trust blindly, the same way Marcel couldn't ask me to, or the same way I couldn't get the witches to.
I needed a show of good faith. The trick was just figuring out what.
"Hey, Y/N/N." 
I nodded back to Cellie's greeting, pushing a tumbler over to his side of the table. While I actually liked coffee, Marcel wasn't a fan. "Got you your drink."
He grinned. "Ah, have I told you how much I love you recently?"
"Definitely not enough," I quipped back. "Now drink." His smile only got wider as he brought the tumbler up to his lips, sipping from his blood while I worked at finishing my Americano.
It's been about a week since I gave the contract to Klaus and went out with Marcel and Cami, who were now accepting the title of "dating" (after lots of resistance from Cami's side). Things have otherwise been quiet. I've been over to the Abattoir a few times to speak with Elijah, sometimes speaking to Hayley, and rarely talking to Klaus, but everything was fine if you didn't count the fact that he was still staring at me every time I came over.
You'd think that I'd be the one behaving that way after constantly seeing my father, his baby mama, and his brother, but nope. I've been calm; the whole Mikaelson thing has been getting to me less, but Klaus would look at me like he was trying to pick apart everything I said or did.
Sooner or later, it wouldn't matter how well I kept my secret. He was just gonna keep digging, so I needed to stop him before he struck gold.
"How's D been doing?" He asked, and the Mikaelsons were instantly pushed to the back of my mind. Davina had that effect.
"She's been good. Doing her school work, getting better with her magic by the day. You should come by for dinner soon, actually."
"Yeah, I-" he cut himself off when a "ping" sounded. He glanced down at his phone on the table, muttering a curse under his breath. When he looked back up at me, his expression was a mix of annoyance at the disturbance and apology. "Sorry, Y/N/N, I've gotta-"
"No, no, it's fine," I told him. "Go on and deal with it." He gave me a silent thank you before getting up, kissing my cheek in parting.
"I'll make it up to you. Dinner at mine," he said, walking away backwards. I smiled, telling him I'd see him later, and then he was out the door. Although we'd been sitting for all of one minute before he had to go, I wasn't irritated. He was getting back into the groove with the Quarter's happenings, so I'd be fully supportive.
I got up, throwing my empty coffee cup into the trash and walking out of the little café, mentally running over my schedule: housekeeping, then dinner with Marcel and Davina later. Right now, I'd go game plan my pitch to the vampires.
Or not.
Just as I was about to cross the street, a black car abruptly skirted in front of me, making me jump back. Before I could make anything of it, two men stepped out of it. Their expressions were practically lifeless, not a trace of emotion in sight.
"Get into the car," one of them ordered, causing me to furrow my brows. What the fuck?
I voiced my concerns not a moment later. "Excuse me?"
The other one stepped forward as if he was threatening me. I looked him up and down. Who the fuck was he stepping to like that? "Ma'am, you're gonna need to get into the car willingly before we force you to." 
Force me to? I only stared at him, debating on whether or not I was gonna bash his head into the car he was threatening me to get into in front of any passers-by. I was then reminded of the exact thing I was on my way to work on: the peace pacts. If I exacted any violence, that wouldn't be setting the right example.
Still, though, I was tempted.
After a few seconds of eying them both, I realized I not only knew them, but I also understood what was happening here.
These were some of Marcel's old vampires.
And they were compelled.
Damnit. I glanced to the car behind them. I was willing to bet money that, inside that very car, sat Klaus. I rolled my eyes. A week ago, I would've been more put off by this, and I was, but I was more annoyed than anything.
I'd find some way to get him to trust me later, but if I didn't get into this car right now, then he'd only become even more suspicious of me, and I didn't need that.
I shook my head in disbelief that I was even gonna do this, gesturing for them to move so I could get into the car. One of them opened the back door for me and I got in.
I turned to my left, fully expecting Klaus to be sitting next to me, but instead I was met with the sight of a blonde with big, voluminous curls and bright blue eyes. Despite fitting into the dumb blonde mold exactly, I knew she was anything but.
This was Rebekah Mikaelson.
I (hopefully) hid my shock quickly, but my eyes still narrowed. My mind raced, wondering what the hell she could possibly want from me. I first jumped to conclusions, but I shut them down immediately, knowing that there was no way anyone knew I was related to the Mikaelsons, including the Mikaelsons themselves.
While I'd been visiting the Abattoir often, Rebekah was basically nowhere to be found. I never would've guessed that this was how I'd be meeting her, being pushed into a car by vampires acting like they were secret service. But, with the Mikaelsons, so far nothing has gone as I expected it.
When she turned to me, she didn't stop and observe me first like her brother did. I'd learned from my research that Rebekah Mikaelson was impulsive, possibly even more so than Klaus. So it didn't surprise me when she cut right to the chase. 
"You must be Y/N," she said. Her voice sounded like honey and a smile was on her lips, but it didn't take rocket science to know that it was all an act. "I'm Rebekah Mikaelson, but I'm sure you're already aware of that." 
I was. And so I said that. "I am." 
She hummed at my response, indirectly reminding me so much of Klaus. She pressed a button to her side, causing the partition to roll up, never looking away from me once. Her smile then quickly dropped. "What are you doing with Marcel?"
Now, I couldn't hide the surprise on my face. "What?"
"You heard me," she asserted, unwilling to elaborate any further and just continuing to look at me, waiting for a reply.
Out of all the reasons she could've pulled me into this car, that one had never even crossed my mind. I paused for a few seconds, thinking over how I'd respond. I knew Rebekah and Marcel had history, and Rebekah had created a reputation for herself as not only being a lover, but a rather possessive one.
Saying the wrong thing here could get me into a tight situation I did not want to be in, so I had to be sure that my words wouldn't piss her off. "He's my friend," I told her, but she didn't look very convinced.
"Really?" She questioned, sarcasm noticeable in her voice. "Are you so cozy with all of your friends? Because you both looked rather close in that café." So she was watching us.
I backtracked, remembering how he kissed me on the cheek on his way out. I see how that could look bad to some people, especially his ex-girlfriend who seemed much more attached to him than he let on. From the way Marcel told the story, him and Rebekah were over, but the way she was acting didn't suggest that at all.
Suddenly, Camille was brought to the forefront of my mind. "We are close," I defended. "I've known him a long time, and we're just friends." I could've left it there—should've left it there, but with Cami on my mind I couldn't help but add, "Besides, he has a girlfriend."
Rebekah narrowed her eyes at me; although, something told me she was already conscious of that little fact. Her jaw tensed, making me more alert. While Elijah and even Klaus wouldn't immediately deal with their problems physically, I knew Rebekah was a different story.
She was smart, don't get me wrong, but if there was something to know about her it was that her emotions overpowered her mind more often than not. She was impulsive, and so this could go real bad, real quick.
I had to get out of this.
I decided to just say something instead of letting her make the first move. If I said something first, then I could take control of the situation and spin it before she could.
"Look," I started. "Marcel and I have a completely platonic relationship." Well, not completely, but I wasn't gonna tell her that. "After we met, I was just helping him keep things running smoothly in the Quarter, the same thing I'm doing with your family now."
While her expression remained blank, I could tell I was swaying her in the right direction. She just needed one last push. "We talk so often because of Davina. She's important to both of us, and we just want to make sure she gets the childhood she deserves." Her eyes immediately softened, and I knew I got her.
Davina was just a child. As ruthless as Rebekah could be, she still had humanity inside her—Marcel had told me this time and time again when he was under the influence. There was something in her that he fell for, and it was her ability to care when she really wanted to.
She finally looked away from me. "I understand," she said. If I knew anything about her, then I knew she was probably embarrassed right now. It turned out that Rebekah's emotional nature had actually helped, not harmed. "Sorry for the inconvenience," she apologized, but her eyes never met mine.
She rolled the partition back down, telling the driver to stop the car and unlock the doors. "You're free to go, Y/N." I stared at her for a few seconds, wondering if there was anything else I was supposed to say, but I came up empty. So I just got out of the car and watched as they drove away right after.
Once I could no longer see the car, I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.
I just met Rebekah Mikaelson.
And I just barely dodged a bullet. I directed my thoughts away from freaking out because I just met yet another member of my family to how I was gonna fix the problem I had.
I couldn't keep tiptoeing on this tight-rope around the Mikaelsons. Sooner or later, I'd fall. I needed to do something to get them, all of them, to trust me. If they caught me at the right time, then everything could be exposed.
I had all of these thoughts running through my mind until a light bulb went off, and all of the puzzle pieces suddenly assembled themselves into a clear picture.
I knew what to do.
I had my show of good faith.
Taglist: @scrynexxtins @thisnameistaken1234 @honestlycasualarcade @xlittlestarling @thatgirljas13 @rosecentury
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dunbonnets · 4 months ago
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Ruin of Me, by daniella
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a-writer-on-elm-street · 2 years ago
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Hope you are having a happy new year! Could you do a fic where Kai Parker and his reader gf are spending a cozy evening at home watching old black and white films. the leading man in the film spanks the woman and the reader thinks its sexist, but Kai says it would work for her. She pinches his nipple and in playful retaliation Kai bends her over his knee bares her bottom and spanks her. Reader is very turned on, Kai fakes outrage and spanks between her legs as well, she climaxes and as he cleans her up he tells her she's getting another spanking during the commercial break. please thank you.
pairing: kai x fem!reader
warnings: smut, spanking, fluff
a/n: thank you, i hope you're having a happy new year too!! thank you for the request, sorry this took so long😅 hope you enjoy!
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"This is ridiculous." You scoff, shaking your head as you watch the monochrome images play out in front of you. "Like, how is that not sexist?"
Kai chuckles beside you, nudging you gently in the arm. "C'mon babe, he's only spanking her. It's hot."
"It's sexist." You affirm.
"Bet it'd work for you."
"Shut up!" You grin, feigning a gasp as you reach out and grab at his chest, managing to successfully pinch his nipple, earning a loud groan from him before he's pulling you over his lap.
"Now." He starts, releasing a heavy sigh as he tugs down your shorts, revealing your bare ass. "Let's put your claims to the test."
"Kai, come on. Let me up." You whine, wriggling in his grasp.
He just shakes his head, his palm hovering over your ass. "A-a-a. I'm very angry with you."
You can tell from his voice that he's only messing around, but you don't fail to notice the heat already beginning to pool between your legs as he brings down the first slap against your ass.
You gasp, your head jerking forward slightly as you continue to complain, although you're not sure how believable it is now. "Kai, please, I'm sorry, okay?"
"You're not getting away that easily." He replies, a sense of authority in his voice. "You've been a naughty girl. And naughty girls get punished."
Before you're even able to respond, you feel his palm connect with your skin again, a small gasp falling from your lips.
The movie is still playing on the TV but you're barely registering it now as Kai continues with your 'punishment'. Only after a couple more slaps, he pauses momentarily, and seconds later you feel his fingers connect with your pussy, your body jerking off his lap from the contact.
You fail to suppress a moan as he brings his hand down between your legs again, his fingers harshly slapping the sensitive flesh.
"Kai, Jesus--" You breathe out, heat creeping up your neck as he continues, an amused chuckle leaving his lips.
"You sure this won't work for you?" He asks, spanking you between your legs again. "Because you're soaked right now."
You can only respond with a quiet moan, your release already coming close.
Kai continues what he's doing, amusement still evident in his voice, and it isn't long before your release finally hits, fire exploding in your belly as you come.
And once he's satisfied, Kai finally lifts you off his lap, leaving you sitting next to him as he smirks at you.
"How about I clean you up and during the commercial break we try that again?" He suggests, his lips still twisted into a smug smile as he looks at you.
You can only offer him a weak nod as you attempt to control your breathing.
"Sexist my ass." He mumbles as he returns to watching the movie as though nothing ever happened.
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wattskerrylou · 3 months ago
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Click here to read Tomorrow by Scarlett21122
This isn't my story. It's just been uploaded by a good friend who has helped me and many others promote their fanfiction, and has offered so many writers unwavering support. I would be so grateful if others could show her story the love it deserves. You don't have to be a fanfiction reader to enjoy it. It is a magnificently well written and incredibly researched WWII story that will tear you apart with heartbreak and put you back together again.
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