#young hope mikaelson

[fandoms--fluff]

Y/n (Hope's mom) to young hope: Mommy's going to drop kick anyone that touches you

Klaus: And Daddy's going to bail Mommy out of jail

[andreal831]

You’re so right about Hayley being a baby. I saw an edit of her during the trend “who we saw going through x / who actually was going through x” and even if I already remarked myself before of how young she was, that slideshow killed me (+ I grew up watching H2O so :().

My baby I love her she did not deserve what she went through

Ok that trend actually broke my heart with the different fandoms. It is so easy to forget how young they all are when things are happening. The show purposefully makes them appear older so that it's less creepy.

This is what it actually looked like when Stefan and Damon brought chaos into their lives. They were babies.

I also saw one with Mikaelsons on how they looked when they were turned. Finn looked the same as the oldest so I included Hayley to remind everyone how young she was.

And how young Hope really was when she lost her mom.

It really puts things into perspective of what everyone in TVDU went through when they were turned and how young they truly were dealing with everything.

[unsiredtribrid]

Do you guys ever think about how hollow and isolating certain things about Hope’s life must feel? When she was a little girl she was promised to be protected by her dad and treated like a princess and she had this image in her head of growing up and being a powerful witch and doing all of these things. And then she gets older, her parents + family members die/split off, ‘always and forever’ is dead in a way, most of the supernatural community either thought or still thinks she’s a danger to them, and then by Legacies we know that she also is faced with having to become immortal in order to stop something that’s going to kill what few friends she does have. She doesn’t want to be immortal. She’s been kind of an introvert and a loner and for all intents and purposes, her existence has been a huge disappointment. She doesn’t see being a vampire as some cool thing, she sees it as something that will at worst, make her more isolated because everyone thinks she’s a monster like her dad. And then that’s before you dig into what the trauma of Greta and Roman did to her. She was told that who she is is wrong and is going to hurt people. She’s been trying not to live up to all these horrible expectations everyone has of her because one of the things her family (propogated by Elijah and even Klaus when he tried to keep her from falling asleep to the Hollow) seemed to believe is that her existence would somehow fix everything and she would miraculously be a good person. So not only is becoming a vampire scary because she doesn’t want to become the worst version of herself and prove everyone right (therefore also reliving all of this trauma she has from other peoples’ expectations of her) but she also has to be alive forever in this sort of lonely state. She doesn’t have ‘normal’ things to look forward to that normal kids do. She’s been told her entire existence will suck for her and everyone else, actually. We even have the firstborn Mikaelson witch thing that posits she will suffer from the strength and uncontrollable quality of her magic. Idk… it’s just crazy how miserable and depressed she must be sometimes

[uncleasad]

for the fanfic writers director's cut ⭐star⭐

So…it’s taken me forever to get to this 😢 So Sorry, and thanks so much for your patience, Rika! 🙏

Since you gave me ⭐star⭐ for writer’s choice, I have selected this summer/fall’s The One with Hope’s Wedding, so without further ado, some Director’s Cut fun facts and commentary!

(If you are someone who hasn’t read that fic yet and thinks you might want to…BEWARE, MAJOR SPOILERS below!)

. . . . .

With that out of the way…

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

The One with Hope’s Wedding

This was the fic that broke me out of an 18-or-24-month writing slump! (I had pushed out a few one-shots, and made minuscule progress on some of my long-suffering WIPs, during that period, but I couldn’t write consistently.)

This past summer, Nick at Nite had a Friends block in the evening, which happened to coincide with the hours I’d be making and eating (and cleaning up after) dinner, and there was nothing else on, and I’d only seen a few episodes of the show here and there (the finale, but never the pilot, for starters), so why not?

After watching for a few months, I got an idea on July 4 and started writing the next day. (How naïve, thinking it’d only be 5-6 more scenes and another 2400 words [for 4800 total] 😂 It ended up being more than 16K words!)

This was one of those fics where I had one scene in mind and had to write the whole rest of the fic to get to it…literally the last scene. (See these reblogs about this writer’s meme.) If you know anything about Friends, I imagine you can figure out where this is going…there are a few iconic scenes, including the two-part fourth-season finale where Ross gets married (his second attempt at marriage…which, too, is doomed to fail).

I remember standing in the kitchen and my brain suddenly said, “Wouldn’t it be fun to write the wedding scene where Hope says Josie’s name?” Yes, brain, indeed it would be fun to write that scene! Unfortunately, doing so requires writing a ton of scaffolding to get to it.

Most of this two-part episode of Friends was set (and shot!) in London, as Ross’s fiancée is British (they met because her uncle was Rachel’s new boss, a butler-esque head of personal shopping at Bloomingdale’s). In at least one of my long-suffering WIPs, I have spun Malivore (Landon’s father) into Sir Malcolm “Mal” Ivor Kirby, a minor British aristocrat, so I took that route here, too, and started filling in characters, backstories, and actual words on my fic’s scaffolding.

In addition to the actual wedding/name screwup scene, there’s another iconic scene for the series in this pair of episodes, the one where Ross’s younger sister Monica and his best friend/college roommate Chandler semi-drunkenly and shockingly sleep together—and then become the series’s other major couple. Hope, of course, doesn’t have a true sibling, but she could have a BFF Lizzie and a college friend/BFF Penelope, which let me keep that important subplot and have a chance to write my second(?)-favorite Legacies pairing, enemies/frenemies-to-lovers Penelope Park x Lizzie Saltzman!

One of the things you realize after watching 10 20-24-episode (only 30 minutes each, thankfully!) seasons of Friends back to back in couple-hour blocks is that the eponymous friends spend a lot of the time actively poking fun—and, worse, being actively cruel—at each other. In 30 minutes a week for half the year, it’s not so apparent, but in any sort of binging…they become tedious. So I tried to tone some of that down to keep the characters more likable, make Josie-as-Rachel a little less selfish, and so on.

The other fun thing is that the Friends showrunners stuffed that pair of episodes chock full of British cameos, everyone from Richard Branson to Sarah, Duchess of York, to Olivia Williams and noted comic actors such as Hugh Laurie and Ab Fab’s Jennifer Saunders and June Whitfield. While members of Landon’s family were already mapped to Legacies characters, I wanted to keep a few cameos, especially Hugh Laurie’s man on the plane whom Rachel annoys by incessantly relating her and Ross’s entire relationship history. I finally settled on Tom Felton for this, someone younger and still well-known who could pull off a grumpy man successfully (not just Draco Malfoy, but also Julian Albert / Alchemy from The Flash).

The other cameo I kept was the airline ticket agent Rachel/Josie encounters trying to get to London. Since I had toned down Rachel’s selfishness for Josie, I could make this scene play differently, too. I eventually landed on Sister Beatrice from Warrior Nun, since there’s a lot of overlap between the Hosie and Avatrice fandoms. I also thought “Beatrice” was appropriate as a name, since in Dante’s The Divine Comedy, Beatrice is Dante’s guide out of Purgatory and into Paradise. So unlike the ticket agent in Friends, Beatrice is fully supportive of Josie’s quest to get to the love of her life in time.

Sadly, I don’t think very many people recognized either of these cameos 😭 But I still had fun writing them. (And such difficult research that was, staring at pictures of Kristina Tonteri-Young in costume in order to describe her recognizably 😏)

@persevereforahappyending has convinced me to make this a whole series of episodes. I don’t know how many I will ever write—too many fic ideas, not enough time, but I do I have a whole document full of ideas and additional character mappings for this series—but The One with Hope’s Wedding ended on that cliffhanger, so everyone is waiting impatiently for the resolution! 😂 I was making good progress on the sequel until it came time for Hosietober, and I’ve been pulled in too many different directions since then, but it is 60-70% complete, so hopefully sometime this winter 🤞

And there you have it, my rambling Director’s Cut!

Thanks so much for the ask, Rika, and for your patience until I could find time and space for this to all gel in my head and then write it down 🙏 I slipped it in in just under 2 months 😂

( @unsiredtribrid, now I have to start thinking of my next Director’s Cut for your ⭐star⭐ Ask! 😂)

[dumbblondesposts]

[fallen-regentarc]

be honest... if you hadn't been saved and then brainwashed by marcel would you have hated the originals as much as you did?

random   asks   for   Davina   ⸻   Anonymous

               davina   has   never   thought   about   this      ,      about   how   things   might've   been   different   if   she   had   just   gone   through   with   the   Harvest      ,      learned   from   the   ancestors      &      had   the   unwaivering   faith      &      trust   in   her   coven      .      but   it   all   seemed   like   a   twisted   web   now      ,      where   things   didn't   seem   to   have   a   starting   point      &      how   things   would   be   right   now   if   this   didn't   happen      .

                        if   Sophie   never   came   back   to   town      ,      never   informed   Marcel   of   the   Harvest      ,      if   he   never   stopped   it      &      saved   her      ⸻      well      ,      the   witches   wouldn't   have   kidnapped      &      manipulated   the   situation   to   get   Klaus   to   New   Orleans   to   take   down   Marcel      .      If   Marcel   never   saved   her      ,      she   wouldn't   have   been   locked   in   the   attic      &      doing   his   bidding   of   detecting   when   the   witches   performed   magic   because   she   wouldn't   have   the   ability   to   detect   the   magic   of   the   New   Orleans   Witch      .

         If   she   wasn't   so   powerful      &      naive   to   the   world      ,      she   wouldn't   have   been   so   easy   to   influence      .      Marcel   was   the   one   who   had   told   her   about   the   Mikaelsons      ,      about   how   bad   they   were      ⸻      but   in   the   same   vein      ,      they   also   showed   that   they   were   what   Marcel   had   described   them   to   be      .      But   Marcel   wasn't   any   better      ,      he   was   just   short   countless   lifetimes   of   trauma      &      devastation      .

                  but   that   wasn't   the   question      ,      no      .      it   was   asking   her   if   she   had   never   been   saved      &      brainwashed      by   Marcel      ,      if   she   would've   hated   the   Mikalesons   as   much   as   she   did      .

                  '      if   I   was   never   saved      ,      I   wouldn't   have   met   Marcel      ,      would   have   never   met   Josh      .      I   would   still   be   living   with   my   mother      ,      doing   the   tainted   biddings   of   my   Coven      .      But   if   I   am   being   honest      ⸻      '      the   witch   shrugs      ,      lips   pursed   together   as   she   exhaled      .      '      I   don't   know   what   would've   happened   if   it   never   saved      .      If   they   ever   came   to   the   Quarter      ,      I   am   sure   that   I   would   mistrust      &      hate   them   based   on   my   Coven      &      their   beliefs   and   wants      .      '

                           '      the   better   question   to   ask   would've   been      ,      if   one   of   the   Mikaelsons   saved   me      ,      would   I   hold   the   loyalty   I   feel   for   Marcel   for   them      ?      or   would   they   betray   me   like   they've   done   to   just   about   everyone      ,      including   each   other      ?      '

[descended-from-aesthetics]

Tag Dump 2

[wholoveseggs]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Goodnight, my lady."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"One can only hope."

{<- kinktober masterlist}

[theha1rarch]

“Because that’s how you’re acting, Hope.” Steve responded with barely concealed anger, and hurt. He stared right back at her, expression almost blank as he tried not to show how affected he was. “Like you don’t care, like you never cared. About me. About any of it. So excuse me for assuming you must be happy, you haven’t exactly given me any reason to believe otherwise.”

@felttheburden

❝ No, I'm not HAPPY. ❞ The pain in her voice was intense as she stood staring at Steve. ❝ Why would you say something like that to me? ❞

[blackleatherjacketz]

Give In

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Klaus shows up out of the blue to remind you who you belong to.

Warnings: Mature Content, Mild Violence, Alcohol, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Klaus and his Mouth

Word Count: 1.4k+

Raucous voices from the drunken patrons on the patio echo against the vastness of the parking lot as you walk away from the crowd, having had enough of the holiday scene inside. Hand in hand with someone you’d only just met an hour before, you make your way out to your car until a feeling of dread suddenly washes over you. Unsure if it’s from all the green beer that you know you shouldn’t have drunk, the sensation intensifies as you get closer, tugging at your insides and prickling the fine hair on the backs of your arms with each step you take. You hear a heavy thud and a light moan, the alcohol dulling your senses just enough to keep you on your path as you turn toward where you had parked your car before you finally see him.

What the hell is he doing here?

“A local pub on St. Patrick’s Day? That’s very unlike you, now is it, darling?” Klaus licks the fresh blood off his lips as he approaches you and your guest, his hazel eyes aglow with a mixture of hunger and satisfaction before returning back to their natural hue. The limp body of the poor woman he had drained dry is just barely visible beneath the undercarriage of a Jeep as you attempt to take in your surroundings, damning the extra shot you took at the bar before walking outside with the man who had bought it for you.

“Who the hell is this guy? You know him?” Your new friend looks over at you, oblivious to the danger he’s in as a jealous shade of pink paints his cheeks.

“Klaus,” is all you can say as he steps closer, that all too familiar blend of fear and excitement tingling its way through your spine as if it’s your very first time seeing him.

It’s as if he’s capable of infecting the air around him with his mere presence, drawing out an innate response from your body every single time. You wish that you could blame it on compulsion, that you could somehow pass the buck onto his supernatural powers, but you both know he’s never had to use any of them on you before. You hate yourself for how weak you are for him, hate how your body instantly reacts to the mere sound of his voice or the glint in his eye like a dog in some sort of sick Pavlovian response. He could take whatever he wanted from you at any time he pleased, and you’d thank him for it.

And he knew that.

“The real question is… who the hell are you?” Klaus focuses his attention on your potential new bedfellow as he closes the gap between them, ignoring you for the moment as his fists find their way into the thin fabric of his novelty green t-shirt. With very little effort, he twists his grip on it, lifting the young man high into the air before staring menacingly into his eyes. “Well?”

“Alex.” He answers immediately, his voice shaking in sobering trepidation.

“And just how long have you been seeing my little witch, Alex?” His eyes darken as he compels the young man to tell him the truth, his dark tone just as threatening as it is curious.

“Witch? We just met tonight, I swear!” He lifts his hands up in surrender, not even bothering to look back at you for confirmation.

“You swear, hmmm?” He laughs to himself, that subtle amused chuckle rumbling in his chest before turning into a low growl, catching in his throat. “And just what were your intentions in bringing her out here like this, huh? Were you hoping to fuck her?”

“Klaus!” You scold in protest and take a step toward them, stopping only as he shoots you a deadly glare.

“Y…yes!” Alex admits freely, all the confidence and charisma he’d shown you inside disappearing in an instant.

“Good.” A sly grin slowly creeps across Klaus’ lips as Alex divulges his obvious intentions with you, fear trembling through his entire body and into his fingertips as they tremor sporadically. “She is rather tempting, isn’t she?”

Alex only whimpers in response, too afraid to say the wrong thing.

“You’re a bit young for her, don’t you think?” He grabs hold of his jaw and squeezes, turning his face from side to side to get a better look at his youthful features as he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“I didn’t care about that.” Alex cries.

“No, I know. ‘Age is nothing but a number’ and all that, but she needs someone older, someone with experience who can take care of her, someone who can really give her what she needs... Do you think you’re that someone, Alex?” He raises an eyebrow as his grip on his chin tightens, making sure to cut the inside of his cheeks against his molars.

“No,” he can barely whisper at this point.

“Good boy, now why don’t you go back inside, have another drink and forget that you ever met her; forget all of this?” He brings him down closer to his face, their noses mere inches apart as his voice lightens just the slightest bit. “Now run along back inside and find someone your own age, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Alex mutters with a nod, scurrying off the second Klaus lowers him down and releases him from his grasp.

“Nose ring really does it for you, huh, love?” Klaus finally addresses you as Alex’s hurried footsteps fade off in the distance. “I didn’t take him as your type.”

“What are you doing here?” You fold your arms across your chest to put some distance between you, as if that will somehow help protect you from his deadly charms. “I thought you’d left town.”

“Well, now I’m back.” His tone shifts completely, his voice now like slowly melted caramel, dripping with the confidence you swear he was born with as it warms every inch of you, those perfect lips of his curling into a knowing smirk. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

“And I thought you would have at least called,” you counter coldly.

“Oh, you always fight me tooth and nail don’t you, darling?” He laughs to himself as he slowly saunters toward you. “Always trying to convince yourself that you don’t want me, that you don’t need me.” His hypnotic gaze grazes over your resistant frame before he gently brushes his knuckles against your cheek. “That you don’t belong to me.”

“Belong to you?” Your lips part as your heart begins to race beneath your nearly heaving chest, pumping your cheeks full of blood as the effect he has on you grows more urgent than you care to admit. “I don’t…”

“Shhh…” He stops you before you can finish your thought, grabbing hold of your chin and lifting it to face him. “Let’s drop the charade, shall we?” He takes his time to take in your features, his nearly blown out pupils dilating even more as they linger on your parting lips.

“Mmm hmm,” you try to answer as his intoxicating scent surrounds you, the sweet smell of cinnamon coated with smoky notes of bergamot flooding your senses.

It’s all over now.

“You’re my little witch… not his, not anyone else’s… mine,” he growls. His hand moves from your chin down to your throat, squeezing gently as he ghosts the promise of a kiss while opening his mouth against yours. He stares at you as his tongue languidly traces the outline of your lips just long enough to stifle your breath. “Right? Show me you understand.”

Your lips quiver as they glisten in his spit before you lean forward just enough to lick his in return, slowly savoring the hints of iron and salt until you can’t help but kiss him completely. You breathe him in, forgetting about how long it’s been since you’ve last touched him as he embraces the kiss with an unmatched fervor. You gasp as he presses his hips into yours, nearly knocking the wind out of you as a satisfied groan vibrates in his chest. You moan into his mouth as he clumsily backs you up against the nearest car as you try to catch your breath, that moisture already collecting between your thighs.

“That’s it, love,” he whispers, pressing those pouty lips of his against your chin and jawline as his other hand starts unbuttoning your jeans. “Give in to me like you always fucking do.”

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Read more KLAUS!

[valiantphantomangel]

Hello!!!

Do you think you could do Elijah Mikaelson x TeenNiece!Reader where she’s so caught up in the responsibility of what’s going on, supernatural stuff or whatever and he wants his niece to relax and be a kid again and he finds out she’s still ticklish like when she was a kid?

A/n: I hope you like it!! The only small change I made was that he already knew she was ticklish so he's an experienced tickler 😏

Your Hope's older sister, which was great most of the time. But times like this were really stressful, the constant worry about keeping her and your family safe from the witches had you up deep in the night to find spells in your grandmother's grimoire.

Yeah that's right, you were half vampire half witch which came with enough difficulty and responsibility as it is.

So long story short, you were completely burned out.

But your family's enemies didn't sit still so neither would you.

It was the third time this week that light casted under your bedroom door deep in the night as the sun began to come up, your head bowed over the grimoire as you muttered to yourself what spells were useful.

"Y/N darling, why are you still up?" Elijah's voice came from the door since it was open.

"Trying to find the right spells"

"Love you need to take better care of yourself" Elijah said with a sigh as he walked in still in his suit.

He grabbed the grimoire and put it on your night stand, sitting on the edge of your bed looking at you.

"But you're still up too!" You exclaimed as you looked at him with bags under your eyes.

"Yes for one time, because Niklaus and I had to deal with some rogue witches" he said with a pointed look as you tried to grab the grimoire again.

"But I need to find something to help" you grumble as you fell backwards onto your bed.

"Don't think that i forgot your weakness Y/N" he said with a playful stern expression "Don't make me tickle you to surrender"

That made you hold for a second, you knew your uncle was very well aware of what your weak spots were having found them himself when you weren't listening. But then again...

"Bring it on old man" you said with a grin

You could use a break.

Elijah of course saw that too and sped over to your side as you tried to get up, pushing you down and sitting on your thighs.

"Old man? You need to learn to respect your elders young lady" he scolded as he pulled your arms over your head and immediately went for your tummy.

"Respect is earned, not givinHEHEHEH" you squealed mid sentence as he rapidly squeezed your side.

"When then I guess I'll have to earn it" he sighed as if he was sad but his smile gave him away.

Elijah let go of your wrists and attacked your tummy with pokes and squeezes, randomly switching to ghost tickling your ribs over your shirt which made it so much worse.

"ELIJAHAHHAHAHHAHA" you screamed through your laughter as you fought against his hands "GHAHAHHAHA".

"Yes that's my name" he said nonchalant as he leaned forward and blew a raspberry onto your tummy, letting his other hand slip under back and tickle your back ribs.

"MERCYHHEHEHEHHEH!!"

"I don't know... Your laugh is pretty adorable and you seem to enjoy it, since you haven't asked me to stop yet" he mused with a smirk.

This continued for a couple of minutes with your (fake) pleases for mercy before footsteps came up the stairs and Klaus appeared in the doorway.

"I think my daughter does need to breath eventually Elijah" your father chuckled as he saw your appearance, hair completely ruffled from all the squirming, red cheeks and a giant smile.

"I do believe your right" Elijah said with a laugh as he got off of you. Letting you breath before pulling the blankets over you and giving you a kiss on the forehead, your father giving you a kiss on the forehead as well.

"Now go to sleep or so help me god young lady, me AND Elijah will come back here and this time you won't have the same mercy" Klaus warned with a smirk.

"Aye aye Sir" you grinned before turning onto your side.

"Good, goodnight sweetheart" he said before he and Elijah stepped out of the room and closed the door.

And maybe, just maybe you'll dare it again...

[fandoms--fluff]

Cooking Disaster

Older sister Mikaelson reader x Hope Mikaelson

Summary: Hope tries to cook, it doesn't end well

Warnings: mentions of burns?

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

You run into the kitchen, the smoke alarm blaring. "What the hell's going on?" You vamp over to the control panel and turn the alarm off.

"Cooking," your little sister tells you, backed away from the stove.

"Hope" You sternly say. "Okay, I'm sorry, I tried to cook and it didn't go well." She looks over to the steaming pan with charred food that used to be edible.

You sigh, "Alright, sweetie, it's okay you're not in trouble. Let's clean this up" Hope nods and turns to the pan, about to touch the metal handle without a cloth. "Or, you know what? You..sit here, while I clean. We don't need any more disasters." You lift Hope up onto the only clean countertop before she hurts herself.

"Hey! I can cook good if I really needed to!" Hope exclaims, a pout playing on her lips. You turned back in her direction from where you were dumping the charred contents in the pan into the trash can. She immediately backs down from her fight once she sees your raised eyebrow.

"Okay, so maybe I can't. But I'm still hungry" Hope says, her stomach rumbling on cue with her words.

"Hmm, okay" You chuckle. "How about we go to that Italian restaurant up the street that you like so much."

"Yes!" She exclaims. "Just give me a second to.." You wave your hands forward, everything getting cleaned in mere seconds from a spritz of your tribrid magic.

"Oh, you've got to teach me that spell," Hope says in awe. "No way, you've got to learn to clean your messes up" You shake your head, "And this does not count because you could've gotten burnt if you had tried cleaning. Just for future reference." You kiss her forehead and run your hand through her hair on the side. "Fine" She smiles.

"Ready to go, Sweetie?"

"Yup," She hops off the counter and grasps your hand in hers. She drags you over to the door, where you put your black heels on and she slips her purple runners on.

She entwines her hand in yours again, as you guys leave the abattoir and walk up to the small restaurant.

You guys ate a profound amount of pasta and breadsticks, coming home stuffed and cuddling up on the couch.

[andreal831]

something you'd never know if you just watched TO is how young Hayley is. she's like three years older than Davina. She's around Josh's age. Cami is older than her. it's so wild. she was 19/20 when she had Hope. it's like how you forget that Rebekah & Kol were turned as teenagers because the actors are clearly older. when i watched TVD after having seen most of TO (i watched out of order, thank you netflix recommended), i was shocked when s4 introduced her as Tyler's friend and in the age cohort of Matt, Caroline, etc. because TO frames her as an adult (maybe because she's pregnant) in contrast to Josh and Davina who are framed as teens. it's just jarring. sorry for all the asks in a row, i've been rewatching and listening to TVDU podcasts (if you have recommendations, i'd love to hear them) and it's got my brain buzzing.

unrelated but in an earlier meta you mentioned Hope in Legacies killing a wolf alpha and said he was a crescent and i wanted to clarify that he wasn't. he was the wolf alpha that worked for Triad. we see him die in a montage along with the witch who works for Triad. it's a whole thing

Lastly, (i swear i'm nearly done), i support all the Mikaelsons being allies when Hope inevitably came out. Based on some Legacies backstory lore, i like to imagine Hope came to Auntie Freya and Hayley to ask them about her crush on Josie.

Hope and her baby cousin should've interacted, i can't believe we never got to see them on screen together.

anyway i'm done, love your metas so much especially the ones on Esther & Lily (justice for these women in the face of the fandom's misogyny)

Hayley is a baby and I remind people of this as much as possible.

We see the image on the left as Hayley but really it's the image on the right who died in child birth and was dragged into the Mikaelson's world.

I even think TO attempts to make us forget how young she is. In Season 2, Mary guesses at her age, saying she's around 25, when in reality she would have only been like 21 or 22. They worked so hard to make us view her in the age range of Klaus, Elijah, and Cami. When, as you said, she was basically the same age as Josh. They do so much work to age her. Even Cami is only 24 but they act like she is older. Her brain isn't technically fully developed at the start of TO. She is only eight years older than Davina. But like I said not long ago, they go out of their way to make Davina seem like a child but Hayley and Cami like full grown adults when in reality they aren't that different in age.

People get mad at Hayley for making dumb decisions and I'm like, yeah, she's young and naïve. People judge 20 year old Hayley who is fighting for her life harsher than the 1000+ year old vamps who are making a mess of her life.

I do not have any podcast recs but if anyone else does, please let us know!

Thank you for explaining the Legacies thing. I've seen enough spoilers to generally know what happens but clearly I don't see everything.

I wish Hope would have had that support system. Or even have had a moment like that with Freya and Hayley. She was old enough and even admitted to having a crush on Josie so I like to imagine she did have that conversation. It was such a waste to talk about baby "Nik" but never introduce him or have Hope interact with him. Did they even meet??

Thank you so much for reading so many of my metas! I'm glad they resonate with people!

[unsiredtribrid]

Danielle's acting when Hope shouts at Klaus for abandoning herrr

[perseephoneee]

four times we almost kissed and the one time we did (kol mikaelson x f!reader)

warnings: slight blood sharing, mostly frusteration

a/n: unfortunately for my sanity, i have fallen in love with kol. why? i couldn't tell you. the actor drives me up a fucking wall. but the character? i am down for bad. so here ya go. feel free to request more kol or over tvdu characters!!

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

[1] First meeting

Magic has existed in New Orleans for as long as anyone can remember. The prevalence of voodoo-- NOLA's most giant "tourist trap"-- originated in 1791 with enslaved West Africans who moved to Louisiana to grow a community for as many free people of color. That spirit meant that many of its inhabitants descended from that original society or were drawn here for its magical properties. Your family was one of the latter, a bunch of witches seeking solace in a place that nurtured it. Except with magic came strife, and eventually, other creatures came knocking at the door. Enter the Mikaelsons, New Orlean's resident vampire family that was always at the center of whatever drama was happening. Right now, something involving all those magically oriented. 

You made it a point to stay clear of the fight. Not because you didn't care– you did– but because it wasn't your fight to be had. That's how you stayed alive in this neighborhood; you knew where to stick your nose and when to stay clear. Besides, all the commotion with one of the Harvest girls (Cassie, you believe her name was) and the witch's distaste of vampires meant tensions were high. You could help the community from the background anyway; you didn't need to make yourself known.

At least, that's what you hoped. But things rarely turned out how you wanted, and this was one of those times. Walking through the back streets of NOLA was never an excellent idea, but it was shorter, and you just wanted to get to the metaphysical supply store before it closed. You needed more laurel leaves to create protection charms around your house, especially with the uptake in strife in the recent year. 

Which is how you came upon a witch killing three vampires in the alley.

You wanted to turn on your heel and leave, but the witch noticed you before you could. You didn't recognize him, so you were unsure what coven he belonged to. He was tall enough to probably tower over you, with golden curly hair and a jaw sharp enough to cut your fingers if you touched it. He was unbelievably handsome, and you hated that it caught your breath.

"You shouldn't be here, luv," he crooned, his English accent thick. He sauntered down the alley, coming up to you with narrowed eyes. 

"I don't recognize you," you countered, shifting your weight as you crossed your arms. It's best not to let him know that you're flustered.

"New in town," he smiled, a cocky grin that told you that he absolutely knew the effect he had on women. It left a bad taste in your mouth. "New Orleans is a big city; I'm surprised you would know everyone."

"I know witches," you said, peering up at him. 

"Ah, are you a magical thing yourself?"

"What do you think?" You arched a brow. He stepped closer, reaching up to twirl a piece of your hair around his finger. You recoiled slightly but didn't pull back. Never show fear; that's one thing this town taught you. 

"I think you're a pretty young thing," he hummed. "I'm Kol." He peered at you as if waiting for you to offer your name. You didn't. 

"Not interested," you pulled back from him, letting the hair he had touched fall back in front of your face. He stepped back into your space.

"I don't know, darling," he smiled, leaning closer so his breath fanned your face. It was minty like he had just had an Altoid. "I think you're interested." You hated admitting that this tall, handsome stranger (such a cliche) was right. And you really hated that if you leaned up slightly, you could feel the warmth from his lips. He stepped back, though, hands in his pockets. The same hands that had used magic to wrangle the undead life of the vampires behind him. You took that as a sign to start to leave, walking backward before turning on your heel and ignoring the gaze of the witch behind you. 

"Never got your name!" He chimed. You smiled to yourself.

"Figure it out yourself."

[2] Cemetery watch

Disgruntled. That's how you felt. Chaos had grown over the past weeks, but you didn't see Kol again. A sliver of disappointment, as you did find him cute, but also a relief. You know enough flirtatious bastards to not want to add more to your life.

You weren't thinking about him today, though. You were thinking about your grandmother, who lived in the cemetery right outside your block. A popular cemetery for Wiccan rituals, it made sense for your grandma (the high priestess of your family) to be buried there with heavy praise. 

You were laying a combination of roses, lavender, and rosemary for protection when the hair on your neck stood up. Feeling a presence, you soon turn around, making eye contact with the stranger who approached you. 

Definitely not a witch; his aura was too dark for that. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and eyes that lingered on you for far too long. He was cute, though, even if he was dangerous.

"Hello darling," he purrs, stalking closer. 

"Can I help you?" You sigh, crossing your arms as you peer at him with suspicion. He wears a cocky smile and a look that tells you he would love to have a taste.

"Don't remember me? I'm hurt," he puts a hand on his chest, feigning pain. You look at him closely, but the only recognition is in the pet name. Darling. Not many people called you darling. 

"Kol," you said. "You're shorter." His face had a hint of shock before settling into amusement. 

"That was uncalled for," he laughed, walking closer to you. In closer proximity, you could see that he was, in fact, very handsome, and he was definitely aware of that. 

"I'm reiterating my previous question, can I help you?"

"When my family sent me on this mission to track down the 'wisest witch in the quarter,' I was not expecting you," he looked down at you with gold-flecked eyes. "The beautiful girl who wouldn't give me her name. Except now I know it's Y/N."

"I thought you were a witch," you took a hesitant step back, trying to create space. 

"Temporarily," he sighed. "Now I'm back in my original form of vampire." The way he said it gave you pause, as if he was resigned to the fact but not happy about it. You could relate. If you lost your magic, you would be devastated. 

"You said something about your family?" you coughed, changing the subject. 

"There's someone working against them, and we would prefer if they don't kill us," Kol shoved his hands in his pockets, looking up at the clouds above. "People tend to hate us, Mikaelsons."

"You're a Mikaelson?" you hissed. It was because of the Mikaelsons your home was in constant disaster. "Why should I help you? Any of you?"

"For the most part, we don't want to cause trouble. It just tends to find us. Helping eliminate a threat means fewer problems in the quarter," Kol sighed, stepping closer. His fingers brushed your cheek, delicate as if touching the grass in a meadow. "Also, you'd get to spend time with me."

"Why would I want to spend time with you?" you breathed, voice wavering slightly. Curse your damn hormones for being swayed by a vampire of all creatures. His thumb came under your chin, allowing him to bring your face closer to his. Kol smelled like fresh snow and evergreens, and you knew that if he leaned a little bit closer, you wouldn't stop him. In the process, likely offend the ghost of your grandmother who was probably rolling her eyes at you right now. Before you could offend all the ancestors with your choices, Kol stepped back, resuming his cocky grin and leaving your breath lodged in your throat. Without a second thought of the implications, you made your decision.

"Fine, I'll help you."

[3] Late night spell-casting

Late nights in the Mikaelson compound meant one thing. Coffee, and lots of it. 

You made a deal with the Mikaelsons after you agreed to help them that in exchange for your time, they had to buy you cafe drinks whenever you liked it. Elijah was the most taken aback, but Kol chuckled as if he found you amusing. Still, they found it a small price, not expecting how much you valued your drinks. Most nights, it was coffee, sometimes tea, or even hot cocoa. Quite honestly, you just liked having the power to make them run around. 

You sat at one of their many couches, a book of shadows in your lap and a notepad in your hands as you made quick notes about possible spells that could combat the evil at hand. A couple of ideas swam in your head, but you wanted to exhaust your options before risking anyone else's life with a botched spell. Still, you had been at it for hours and started getting sleepy. You yawned, feeling your eyes close slightly. Thankfully, footsteps alerting you to the presence of one of the originals had you sitting up and shaking off your fatigue. Unfortunately, that original was Kol with your coffee order. 

Kol was precisely what you thought he would be. Flirtatious, cocky, impulsive, and too attractive for his own good. You hated when murderers were cute; it made life confusing. There were moments, though, when the two of you were performing recon or pouring over spell books that you saw a side of him that only showed when his guard wasn't up. He was calmer, more academic, and a lot more unsure of himself. The only thing you hated about seeing that side is it made you like him more. 

"How's my witchling doing?" he chimed, dropping off your coffee and settling beside you on the couch. You told him that being called darling felt ridiculous, so instead, he found a new nickname, which was even worse. 

"The usual, I suppose," you yawned again, leaning your head against the back of the couch. 

"Take a break."

"You realize it's your life on the line, right?" you huffed, turning to look at him. 

"My life will always be in danger, Y/N," Kol hummed, taking your books out of your lap with a minor protest from you. "That's not going to change tonight."

"Don't underestimate me," you grabbed your cup, taking a deep sip and looking at him over the lid. 

"I would never underestimate you," he grabbed your coffee and stole a sip himself, earning a growl from you. "Half the things you say shock and confuse me."

"It's my charm."

"Let's do something fun," Kol stood up, trying to drag you with him. "Research is bloody boring."

"We have two very different ideas of 'fun,' Mikaelson," you curled up into a ball on the couch, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. An idea sparked in your head, and you turned a devilish smile to the brunette. "How about tarot cards?"

You found an old deck in the compound, creating a space on the table in the central area to lay out the spread. Even though having your cards would be better, you thought you could probably make do with these. You gave Kol the cards to shuffle and watched as he spent meticulous time connecting with the cards before handing the deck back to you. You started laying out the cards on the table, forming a cross with four cards separate on the side. You tucked your legs underneath you, curling up on the floor so you were huddled by the table. Kol joined you, his back against the couch as he peered at you straightening up the cards. 

"You realize you're going to flip them over, right?"

"Shut up, Mikaelson," you chimed, finishing your organization. He watched you with a small smile, and you made the effort to ignore his stare. "We'll start with your Present card."

“Boring,” Kol sing-songed. "Tell me my future."

"I have to go in order, to give an accurate reading."

"Darling, the cards are already laid out; you can do whatever you want," Kol leaned closer to you, squinting his eyes in amusement. "I live my life in futures; who cares about the past?"

Sighing, you decided to obey the nosey vampire and flip over his cards for Future and Near Future. The two cards revealed were the Lovers and Ace of Cups, respectively. 

"In your Future is a strong romantic relationship," you start, pointing out the Lovers card featuring two swans intertwined. "This correlates to the Ace of Cups, which signifies new beginnings. Since the Ace of Cups is in your near future, you'll likely encounter someone you'll soon develop a deep, long-lasting relationship with." You turn your eyes to Kol, raising an eyebrow. "Shocking, considering your personality."

"It's not that shocking," Kol quipped, leaning closer to you. "We're here, aren't we?"

His pupils were enlarged as he gazed upon you, and his glance to your lips told you exactly where his mind was. You couldn't deny you weren't thinking the same thing. It didn't help that Kol was dangerous in an enticing way. Ignoring all rational thought, you leaned in closer, nudging his nose with yours. Your heart was beating erratically, and you heard the sharp intake of breath he took. His fingers traced up your arm, each finger leaving goosebumps in their wake. What were you doing?

"How's the research going?" a voice called from the hallway. You scooted away immediately, but Kol stayed where he was. His jaw clenched as he suppressed a growl. Freya appeared, not aware of the situation and probably not caring anyway. 

"I have a few ideas," you coughed, taking a deep breath to calm your beating heart. 

"Great, I'd love to hear them so I can stop having stressful dreams," Freya chuckled, moving over to the couch. You sent Kol a glance as you passed your journal to Freya. The look he gave you told you that what started wasn't over. And the worst part was you didn't want it to be over. 

[4] Injured after a fight

A headache. That's what you were nursing. 

A sharp ringing pierced through your ears, the lights above you blurring into a bad abstract painting. A figure appeared above you, and you slowly registered that it was calling your name. You squinted your eyes, the action causing a splitting pain as the shape of Kol formed in front of you. Worry creased his brows, and blood splattered his face. 

"Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me?" Kol asked, cradling your head. You nodded, grabbing his arms to help pull yourself up. Chaos was erupting around you, and the stifling smell of magic was enough to knock you out again. That's what had happened. It was an ambush, and despite your abilities, you were blasted back into a wall, probably with a concussion and broken bones. It was times like this when you were envious of a vampire's healing skills. "I need to get you out of here."

"They need our help," you grimaced, catching Klaus ripping off someone's arms in the background. Kol caught your gaze and bothered with a slight smirk. 

"I'm sure Nik is fully capable of handling himself. Plus, my other siblings are here, and Freya called Vincent. They won't miss us."

"I'll be fine," you tried to say, but it ended in a wheeze as the effort of sitting up caused pain in your lungs. 

"You will not. Can you stand?" Kol watched you struggle for a second before picking you up. In a normal situation, you would've complained, but considering all you felt was ow ow ow ow ow you thought better than to complain. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he sped out of the scene and back to the compound. Kol laid you gently on the couch, kneeling before you, biting into his wrist and holding it to your lips. "You need to drink."

"I don't want to be a vampire," you mumbled, brushing a hand across your forehead. Your fingers held blood on them, and you became dizzy with that knowledge.

"I won't let that happen now, drink," Kol insisted, his voice having a hard edge. Considering he was a stubborn bastard, you relented. You hesitantly grabbed his wrist and brought it up to your mouth. The blood slid down your throat cleanly, but you had to suppress the urge to gag anyway since it was blood. You felt your bones click into place, and your headache dull to a memory. You finally looked up, catching Kol's gaze on you. How was it intensely erotic to have someone watch you drink their blood? There must be therapy for issues like this, but you didn't really care. How he looked at you was akin to a predator waiting to devour its next meal. You knew if you let him, he would fulfill every potential vampire fantasy one could have. He touched your cheek, touching your lips where his blood was just a second ago. He pulled away, red coating his fingers, and you suppressed a groan when he sucked the leftover blood. 

"Kol," you whispered, your voice raspy. He sat up at eye level, leaning down as if to kiss you. Of course, things weren't that easy, as his family burst into the compound right at that moment. You wanted to let out a scream of frustration but ended up being caught off guard by Klaus dropping a head by the entryway. 

"Glad to see our little witch is okay," Klaus chimed, looking pretty proud of himself. If Kol were a cartoon character, he'd blow smoke out of his ears. 

"I'm alive," you sighed. Klaus walked over, ignoring his brother's glares, and patted you on the shoulder. That was the closest thing to the affection you were getting from the hybrid. As the rest of the family delved into a conversation about the ambush, you finally got up and looked at the original kneeling on the ground before you. "We'll finish this later," you smiled, pretending to ignore the slight growl that left Kol's mouth as you walked off. 

[5] Evil has passed

"I thought you would've left."

Kol stood in the entryway of his bedroom at the Mikaelson home while you stood (guilty) by his bookshelf. 

"I was returning this book I borrowed from you," you said innocently. Putting the book back on the shelf, you turned to the man before you, trying his best to plaster on a convincing smile. The threat has passed, your job was over, and yet you were melancholy. These people had caused problems throughout your home since they arrived, yet your temporary alliance ending was something of sadness. You were tired of pretending it was for any reason other than Kol. Kol started as an annoying individual who sought to drive you up the wall, but now was someone you saw a kinship with. Your long talks on history and adventures across the globe were moments where you saw his guard fall, and you loved every second of it. It helped that he was pretty to look at. 

"I guess this means goodbye then, doesn't it witchling?" Kol sighed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. You could swear he sounded disappointed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. 

"Depends," you crossed your arms. "I could be persuaded to come back."

"Persuaded?" Kol inquired, that mischievous glint in his eyes telling you he would ensure a way to keep you around. "Any particular reason?"

"If someone wanted me around, I guess," you smiled, a tiny grin but good enough for Kol to stroll towards you until he towered over your figure. 

"I'll give you a good reason," Kol murmured, a devilish smirk on his lips. "Something that we kept getting interrupted for in the past." He cupped your face in his hands, lowering his lips so they were a hairsbreadth from yours. 

"Don't be a tease," you breathed. Letting out a dark chuckle, he pressed his lips to yours. It was surprisingly light, not hungry like his usual personality. He tasted like a fresh snowstorm and an evergreen forest, and you know you could get drunk on that alone. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you brought him closer to you, deepening the kiss and earning a light groan from the vampire. Kol's hands tangled in your hair, one of them going to hold your waist. Every touch of his was coldfire, and you were so glad that you were finally alone to burn in him. He tilted your head back, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat that caused you let out a moan. He nipped the junction of your neck and shoulder, kissing over it until he was back at your lips again, leaving a searing kiss. Kol pulled away, glancing at you with eyes abysmal. "What took you so long to do that?" you breathed, a grin covering your face as Kol laughed, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

"You're all mine now," Kol smiled, kissing you again. "Always and forever."

[amournoir]

Hi can u do a fic where the reader and Klaus are in a relationship and the mikaelson's hate her .

Thanks

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 ┄ 𝐢

pairing: niklaus mikaelson x f!reader

count: 1.4k

warning: angst

author’s note: thanks for the request hun! 💋 p.s, here's part 2

The streets of New Orleans pulsed with life, and Y/N, Klaus Mikaelson's spirited and vivacious girlfriend, seemed to embody the very essence of the city's energy. She reveled in the thrill of the night, seeking joy and adventure wherever she went. But little did she know that her vibrant spirit was causing a storm within the Mikaelson family. 

Rebekah and Elijah, Klaus's siblings, observed with disapproval as Y/N led Klaus into the wild festivities of the French Quarter. They detested her carefree nature, seeing her as a disruption to the carefully constructed order of their lives. In their eyes, Y/N was a distraction, a youthful folly that would only lead Klaus astray. The siblings had made their opinions known countless times, urging Klaus to end the relationship. They saw her as a threat to their family's stability and tried to set him up with a "more suitable" woman— a 30-year-old socialite whose poise and maturity contrasted sharply with Y/N's exuberance. 

One evening, as the Mikaelson family gathered for a somber dinner, tensions reached their breaking point. Rebekah and Elijah, fueled by their desire to protect their brother, confronted Y/N, leveling accusations of infidelity.

“You're nothing but trouble,” Rebekah hissed, her eyes flashing with disdain. “You're not right for Nik.”

Y/N's face paled, her heart pounding in her chest. “What are you talking about? I love Klaus with all my heart,” she protested, her voice trembling.

Elijah shook his head, his tone cutting like a blade. “You're young, reckless, and unreliable,” he stated coldly. “You're only going to hurt him.”

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she struggled to find the right words to defend herself. She had always tried to be honest with Klaus, to give him everything he deserved, but now she felt like she was being torn apart by the very people she had hoped to call family.

“I love him,” she repeated, her voice breaking. “I would never hurt him, and I would never cheat on him.”

But her words fell on deaf ears, and the Mikaelson siblings remained adamant in their disapproval. Klaus, torn between his love for Y/N and his loyalty to his family, was caught in the crossfire of their bitter dispute. For days, the rift between Y/N and the Mikaelson siblings grew wider. Each encounter was fraught with tension, with accusations and misunderstandings that only deepened the wounds. Y/N felt isolated and alone, her heart heavy with the weight of their judgments.

One night, as the moon hung low in the sky, Klaus found Y/N sitting alone by the fireplace, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. He approached her, his heart aching at the sight of her pain.

“Love talk to me,” he pleaded, his voice soft with concern.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Your family hates me,” she whispered. “They think I'm not good enough for you.”

Klaus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I don't care what they think,” he said firmly. “I love you and I won't let them come between us.”

But as the days turned into weeks, the constant pressure from his family weighed heavily on Klaus's mind. Doubts began to seep into his heart, and he found himself torn between his love for Y/N and the desire to mend the fractures in his family. In the depths of his turmoil, Klaus faced an impossible choice— to stand by the woman he loved or to appease his family by letting her go. His heart and mind waged war within him, leaving him in a state of inner turmoil that threatened to consume him.

As the darkness of uncertainty loomed over their once blissful relationship, Y/N and Klaus were left to navigate the shadows of doubt and find a way back to each other. The storm of angst and heartache showed no signs of abating, leaving them with the ultimate question…could love conquer all or would the family's disapproval be too much to bear? 

A few months had passed without another confrontation from his siblings but that silence period was over today. The Mikaelson mansion stood in silence, its opulent halls shrouded in a heavy tension that seemed to seep into the very air. Y/N, the vibrant and spirited love of Klaus Mikaelson's life, felt the weight of disapproval from his siblings bearing down on her like a storm cloud. At 23, her heart beat fiercely with a passion for life, but to Elijah and Rebekah, she was nothing more than a youthful whirlwind that threatened the delicate balance they had carefully crafted. 

It was a chilly evening, and as Y/N wandered through the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps echoing emptily, she couldn't shake the sense of unease that seemed to linger around her. The disapproving glances, the hushed conversations that ceased when she entered a room— all of it gnawed at her soul. It had been months since she had embarked on a romantic journey with Klaus, a love that burned with an intensity she had never known before. But even that powerful connection couldn't shield her from the critical eyes of his siblings.

Rebekah's icy words had sliced through the air like a blade. “You're just a child, Y/N,” she had said with a condescending tilt of her head. “My brother deserves someone who understands the dangers of our world.”

And Elijah, the embodiment of elegance and poise, had looked at her with a mixture of pity and dismissal. “Klaus is not one to be taken lightly,” he had warned. “You need to be more mature, more level headed.”

Each word had etched itself into Y/N's heart, a constant reminder of her perceived inadequacy in the eyes of those she so desperately wanted to accept her. As she entered the living room, she found Klaus standing by the grand window, nursing a tumbler of bourbon in his hand. His gaze was distant, his features etched with a mixture of frustration and weariness. She approached him, her heart aching at the distance she felt growing between them.

“Klaus,” she murmured, her voice soft and uncertain.

He turned to her, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of conflict and affection. “Y/N,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of regret.

The silence that followed was heavy, a chasm that seemed to swallow their words before they could be spoken.

“I can't do this anymore love,” Klaus finally confessed, his voice breaking the stillness.

Y/N's heart shattered, the pain more intense than she could have ever imagined. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Klaus's gaze was tortured, his emotions warring within him. “Elijah and Rebekah,” he said with a sigh. “They won't accept us. They think you're too young, too impulsive.”

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. “And what do you think?” she choked out, her voice quivering.

Klaus reached for her, his hand cupping her cheek with tenderness. “I love you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “But I can't keep going against my family. It's tearing us apart.”

The pain in Y/N's chest was suffocating, a weight that threatened to crush her. “So, what are you saying?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“I'm saying that we need to take a step back,” Klaus admitted, his voice barely audible. “Perhaps it's best for both of us.”

Y/N's heart shattered completely, and she took a step back, her eyes welling with tears. “You're choosing them over me?” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Klaus's eyes filled with anguish, and he reached out to her, his fingers brushing against her cheek. “Y/N…” he started desperately. “I love you, but I can't keep fighting this battle. I'm sorry sweetheart.”

The room seemed to close in around her, and Y/N turned and fled, her heartache echoing in the emptiness that surrounded her. Days turned into weeks, and the absence of Klaus felt like an ache that she couldn't escape. She could feel the weight of his absence in every corner of her life, a constant reminder of what once was.

As she stared out at the moonlit night, Y/N realized that love was not always enough to conquer the obstacles that life placed in its path. She had lost the man she loved, not because he didn't care, but because the world they lived in was too complicated, too tangled with expectations. lol She whispered his name into the night, her heart heavy with sorrow, Y/N learned that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures that threatened to tear their world apart. And in that painful realization, she felt the bittersweet ache of a love that had been both beautiful and heart wrenching—a love that would forever remain etched in her soul.

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