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One shot | Established Relationship | Smutish | Masterlist | WC: 3.7K
Summary: Studying anatomy is hard…luckily Klaus's extensive knowldege makes for an enticing study method
· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·
The anatomy textbook lay open on the bed, pages covered in Y/N's frustrated notes. She'd been at this for three hours trying to memorize the placement of organs and the names of bones and even the way everything connected in the human body. Keywords: Trying.
"I give up," she groaned, flopping backward onto the pillows. "The radius and the ulna are the same thing. Bones are stupid. Who needs this many bones?"
Klaus looked up from his easel where he'd been working on a landscape, a smirk playing at his lips. "You do realize you're saying this to someone who's broken most of those bones in other people, love. I could probably draw you a detailed anatomical chart from memory."
Y/N sat up, eyeing him suspiciously. "Are you seriously telling me that your extensive knowledge of torture has made you an anatomy expert?"
"A millennium of creative violence does provide certain educational benefits." He set down his brush, wiping his hands on a rag as he crossed to the bed. "What specifically is giving you trouble?"
She gestured helplessly at the textbook. "All of it? The bones in the arm. Where the liver actually sits. How the ribcage protects things. It's all just...words on a page. I can't visualize it."
Klaus picked up the textbook, scanning the pages. Then he set it aside and reached for her hand. "Then let's make it more interesting, shall we?" His voice dropped lower, taking on that dangerous edge that always made her pulse quicken. "Close your eyes."
"Klaus..."
"Trust me, sweetheart. This is educational."
She closed her eyes, feeling the bed shift as he moved behind her. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, thumb pressing against her pulse point.
"The radial artery," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "Right here. Can you feel your heartbeat under my thumb?"
She could. Her heart was doing complicated things that had nothing to do with anatomy and everything to do with his proximity. His fingers traced up her forearm, pressing gently.
"The radius bone runs here, along the thumb side of your forearm. And just beside it..." His other hand traced a parallel line. "The ulna. Two bones working together to let you rotate your wrist. Like this."
He demonstrated by turning her hand palm-up, then palm-down. “Now you'll remember," he said, voice thick with amusement. "Because you'll think of this every time you look at that textbook."
"That's cheating," Y/N breathed.
"It’s effective teaching." His hands slid higher, fingers trailing along the inside of her elbow. "The brachial artery branches here. Major blood vessel. Very dangerous to sever. I've seen men bleed out in minutes from a wound right here."
"You're supposed to be helping me study, not giving me nightmares."
"I'm doing both." She could hear the grin in his voice. "Where's the humerus, love?"
"Upper arm bone. Runs from shoulder to elbow."
"Good girl." His hands moved to her shoulders, thumbs pressing into the joint. "And here's where it connects to the scapula. Feel that? The way it rotates in the socket?"
He guided her arm through a slow circle, and she was acutely aware that this was the least educational anatomy lesson in the history of education.
"Now," Klaus said, his hands settling on her ribcage, "tell me what organs the ribs protect."
"Heart and lungs," she managed, though thinking was becoming increasingly difficult with his palms warm against her sides.
"And where exactly is your heart, sweetheart?" His hand slid to rest over her left breast, palm flat against where her heart was hammering. "Right here. Between the fourth and fifth ribs, slightly left of center. I can feel it racing."
"That's because you're being distracting."
"Am I now?" His thumb traced the curve of her bottom rib. "The liver sits here, on your right side, just beneath the ribcage. Largest internal organ. Extremely vascular, which means—"
"It bleeds a lot if damaged. I know. I read that part."
"But now you'll remember it." His hands spanned her waist. "Because you'll remember this."
Y/N opened her eyes and turned her head to find him watching her with that intense focus that still made her stomach flip even after three years.
"This is the worst study method ever," she said.
"Is it working?"
She grabbed the textbook, flipping to a diagram of the skeletal system. "Radius is thumb-side forearm bone. Ulna is pinky-side. Humerus is upper arm. Scapula is shoulder blade. Heart between fourth and fifth ribs, left of center. Liver right side, beneath ribs."
Klaus's grin was absolutely wicked. "See? Effective. You're going to ace this exam." He pulled her into his lap, textbook and all. "Now, shall we discuss the skeletal structure of the hand? I have very strong opinions about metacarpals."
"Of course you do."
But she didn't pull away. And when he started explaining the twenty-seven bones in the human hand while tracing each one on her palm, she actually retained the information. Even if he was using a thousand years of creative violence to help her pass anatomy.
· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·
Klaus was sprawled across his bed the following evening, reading a first edition of Byron's poetry. One he'd acquired directly from the source back in 1816. That’s when Y/N burst through the door with her anatomy textbook and a determined expression.
"Take your shirt off."
He lowered the book slowly, one eyebrow arching in amusement as a slow smirk spread across his face. "Well, love, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but generally there's a bit more preamble. Perhaps some—"
"I need to study muscles," she interrupted, already pulling sticky notes and markers from her bag. "You have muscles. Take your shirt off."
The smirk faltered slightly. "You want me to...what, exactly?"
"Be my anatomical model." She was flipping through the textbook, completely focused. "Yesterday you helped with bones and organs. Today I need to map muscle groups. The trapezius, deltoids, pectoralis major, all of it. So. Shirt. Off."
Klaus set the book aside, genuinely caught off guard for possibly the first time in decades.
"You're serious."
"Dead serious. I have an exam in three days and I still can't tell the difference between the flexor carpi radialis and the flexor carpi ulnaris."
"Those are in the forearm, love."
"I KNOW." She looked up at him with those eyes that had been wrecking his composure for three years. "Which is why I need a three-dimensional reference. Please?"
He couldn't quite suppress his grin as he sat up and pulled his henley over his head in one smooth motion. "You know, most people would just use diagrams."
"Most people don't have a thousand-year-old vampire boyfriend with perfect muscle definition." She stepped closer, textbook in one hand, sticky notes in the other. "Now hold still."
For the next twenty minutes, Klaus discovered what it was like to be treated as a living anatomy chart. Y/N circled him with scientific precision, comparing his actual musculature to the diagrams in her book. She pressed her fingers against his shoulder, feeling the way the deltoid connected, her touch clinical but maddening.
Klaus's breath hitched. It was subtle, just the slightest catch, but enough that he had to close his eyes and concentrate on maintaining his composure. Legendary self-control, and here he was, undone by her fingertips tracing the contours of his shoulder.
She scribbled "DELTOID - raises arm laterally" on a pink sticky note and pressed it onto his skin, completely oblivious to the effect she was having.
Her fingers moved to his chest, mapping the pectoralis major with careful attention. Klaus kept his eyes firmly shut, jaw tight.
"You alright?" she asked absently, not looking up from her textbook.
"Perfectly fine, love." His voice came out rougher than intended. "Just...focusing."
Another sticky note landed on his chest. Her palm pressed flat against his sternum as she smoothed it down. His breathing definitely wasn't steady anymore.
She moved to his back, and he felt her fingers trace the line of his trapezius from neck to shoulder blade. The touch was exploratory and entirely innocent in intent. But it was driving him absolutely mad.
"This is absolutely ridiculous," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
"This is effective studying. You said so yourself yesterday."
"Yes, but yesterday I was the one doing the teaching. This is different."
"How so?"
"Because yesterday I got to touch you. Today I'm supposed to sit here like a statue while you—" He broke off as her fingers found the tricep. "Bloody hell."
She patted his shoulder absently, already moving on to label different muscle groups. By the time she'd covered his arms, shoulders, chest, and back with sticky notes, Klaus looked like he'd been attacked by an overeagerly organized student, and his self-control was hanging by a thread.
Then her eyes landed on his paint supplies.
"Oh, that's perfect."
"What's perfect? Y/N, what are you—"
She'd already grabbed his cadmium red and a fine brush. "The book shows the muscles in different colors to distinguish them. If I outline them on you, I can see exactly where they start and stop."
"Absolutely not."
"Klaus, please? It'll wash off."
"I'm a hybrid, not a canvas!"
But she was already uncapping the paint with a look that meant arguing was pointless. He sighed, resigned to his fate. "You're lucky I love you."
"I know." She dipped the brush in red paint. "Now flex your arm."
Klaus sighed, obeying her commands snd she just...stopped. Stared. Her eyes fixed on the way his bicep curved under the skin, the definition of muscle that came from a millennium of fighting.
Klaus's eyes opened. The corner of his mouth twitched. "See something you like, sweetheart?"
She blinked, cheeks flushing. "I'm studying."
"Studying requires looking at the textbook occasionally." His smirk widened. "You've been staring at my arm for fifteen seconds which I would know because I counted."
"I was comparing it to the diagram."
"The diagram is on the table behind you, my love"
Her blush deepened. "Shut up."
"Make me." His voice dropped lower, teasing. "Or are you too busy admiring the brachialis? Perhaps the biceps brachii? I can flex again if you need a longer look." He flexed again, deliberately slow. "What happened to clinical detachment, love? All that scientific focus?"
"I hate you," she muttered, but she was fighting a smile as she finally pressed the brush to his skin.
She traced the bicep, her tongue caught between her teeth in concentration. The paint was cool against his skin, her touch feather-light as she followed the muscle's contour from shoulder to elbow. Klaus watched her work, and despite the torment of sitting still while she touched him so innocently, there was something quietly perfect about this moment. The little furrow between her brows and even the way she muttered anatomical terms under her breath.
She switched to blue for the triceps, yellow for the deltoid, and green for the pectoralis major. "There," she finally announced, stepping back to admire her work. "Perfect. Now I can actually see how everything connects."
Klaus looked down at himself covered in paint outlines and sticky notes, looking like the world's most ridiculous anatomy lesson.
"I look like a child's art project."
"You look educational." She was already taking photos with her phone from different angles. "This is going to help so much."
"Thrilled to be of service," he said dryly.
She laughed, finally looking up from her phone to really look at him. "Thank you. I know this is weird."
"Weird doesn't begin to cover it, love." He plucked a sticky note off his chest. "But if it helps you pass your exam, I suppose I can endure the indignity."
"My hero," she teased.
"Speaking of which." He stood, paint-covered and sticky-note-decorated, and closed the distance between them. "Since you've quite literally decorated me, I think it's only fair you help clean it off."
"I was going to let you shower—"
In one smooth motion, he had her lifted over his shoulder. "Klaus!"
"You put it there, sweetheart. You're helping wash it off." He was already heading toward his bathroom, her protests dissolving into laughter. "Consider it additional anatomy study. I'll even quiz you on muscle function while we're at it."
"That's not how studying works!"
"It is now."
The shower turned on, steam immediately beginning to fog the glass. Klaus set her down just long enough to start pulling sticky notes off himself, dropping them in a colorful pile on the bathroom counter.
"This is going to take forever," Y/N protested, but she was already pulling her sweater over her head. "Some of those paint lines are really detailed."
"Then I suppose we'll be here a while." He stepped under the spray, colored water already running down his chest as the paint began to dissolve. He held out his hand. "Coming, love?"
She took it, stepping into the shower with him, warm water cascading over them both. "You're going to quiz me, aren't you."
"Absolutely." His hands were already working shampoo through her hair, fingers massaging her scalp. "What's the largest muscle in the human body?"
"Gluteus maximus."
"Good girl." His hands slid down her back deliberately, finding exactly that muscle and squeezing with intent.
She gasped against him. "Klaus—"
"What? I'm being educational." But his smirk was absolutely wicked. "And what does the sartorius do?"
She tried to focus through the distraction of his hands still kneading her backside. "Flexes the hip and knee. It's the longest muscle in the body."
"Excellent." He pressed a kiss to her temple, then without warning, lifted her effortlessly against the shower wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as the water streamed over both of them.
"What muscle did I just use to lift you?" he asked, voice dropping lower. Her brain scrambled to function while pressed against tile, held up by nothing but his strength.
"The—the deltoids helped. Biceps. Core muscles for stabilization."
"Very good, sweetheart." One hand slid up her thigh, squeezing the muscle there. "And what muscle is this?"
"Quadriceps," she breathed.
His hand moved higher, fingers tracing, caressing. "And this?"
"Adductors. Inner thigh."
"Mmm. You're doing so well." His lips found her neck, teeth grazing. "What about here?" His hand splayed across her ribcage.
"External obliques."
"Perfect." The word rumbled against her throat. "See how much better you remember when there's proper motivation?"
"This is—" She lost her train of thought entirely when his thumb traced circles against her hip. "This is not proper study technique."
"Isn't it? You're answering every question correctly." He shifted his hold, demonstrating his point. "What muscles am I using now to keep you exactly where I want you?"
She was trembling, and not from the cooling water.
"Deltoids, biceps, pectorals for...for holding. Core strength. Gluteus maximus for hip extension and—oh god—"
"Keep going, love. You're doing brilliantly."
"I can't think when you're—"
"When I'm what?" Pure innocence in his tone, completely contradicted by the way his hands were mapping her body. "I'm simply providing hands-on education. You said you needed a three-dimensional reference."
“I did?”
“Mhm. And you're going to ace this exam,” he finally lowered her back to her feet, though his hands remained at her waist. "Because every time you look at those diagrams, you're going to remember this. Aren't you?"
Her legs were unsteady, her heart was racing, and yes, she was absolutely going to remember every single muscle group now. "You're very pleased with yourself."
"Extremely." He tucked wet hair behind her ear. "Now, let's actually wash this paint off before the water runs cold. And I expect you to identify every muscle I use while doing so."
"You're going to make me work for this, aren't you?"
"Always, sweetheart." His grin was devastating. They stayed in the shower until every trace of color had washed away, Klaus continuing his relentless anatomical quiz while she scrubbed paint from his skin, both of them laughing when she got an answer wrong and he found creative ways to help her remember the correct one.
By the time they finally emerged, wrapped in towels with the bathroom thick with steam, Y/N had successfully memorized twelve major muscle groups and several creative applications thereof. And Klaus had a pile of sticky notes on his counter that he absolutely was not throwing away, along with the private satisfaction of knowing his girlfriend would never look at an anatomy textbook the same way again.
· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·
Klaus drove into her, his hands gripping her hips as she lay beneath him. But something felt off. Her responses were all there. The usual soft gasps and the way her body arched but her focus wasn't. Her hands weren't clutching at him desperately as they usually did; instead, they were...exploring. They were focused and dare he say too focused as they traced patterns across his shoulders and down his spine.
He slowed his movements, watching her face. Her eyes were slightly unfocused, her brow furrowed in concentration that had nothing to do with pleasure.
"Are you..." he began, disbelief coloring his tone, "Are you studying my musculature while I'm fucking you?"
Y/N's eyes snapped to his, a guilty flush spreading across her cheeks. "What? No! I'm—" she broke off as his expression darkened. "Maybe a little?"
Klaus stilled completely, still buried inside her, his jaw tightening. "Let me understand this correctly," he said, his accent thickening dangerously. "I have you naked beneath me, my cock inside you, and you're using this opportunity to mentally catalog my trapezius?"
She bit her lip, fighting a smile despite the tension. "It's just...they're right there," she explained weakly as he drops his head into the crook of his neck "And they're so well-defined when you're holding yourself up like this. I can see exactly where the latissimus dorsi connects to—"
"Oh my god." Klaus lifted his head to stare at her in utter disbelief. "I'm literally inside you and you're thinking about anatomy."
"It's your fault!" She tried to defend herself, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. "You made me use you as a study model and now I can't stop thinking about it!"
"That was supposed to help you pass your exam, not ruin our sex life!"
"It's not ruining—"
Klaus cut her off with a growl, pulling out of her entirely and flipping her onto her stomach in one fluid movement. Before she could protest, he'd pinned her wrists above her head with one hand. "If you insist on treating me like an anatomy lesson," he murmured against her ear, his free hand sliding beneath her to lift her hips, "then I'll make certain it's one you won't forget."
He entered her again, the new angle drawing a genuine gasp from her lips. "Now," he continued, his voice conversational as he established a punishing rhythm, "since you're so interested in muscle function, let's discuss what's happening right now."
His hand released her wrists to slide down her back, following the curve of her spine. "The erector spinae," he informed her, fingers tracing the muscles along either side of her vertebrae, "contracts to arch your back just like this."
His hand moved to grip her hip, fingers digging into the flesh there. "The gluteus medius," he continued, punctuating the words with a deep thrust that made her cry out, "stabilizes your pelvis while I'm taking you."
"Klaus," she moaned, all thoughts of studying forgotten as her fingers clutched at the sheets.
"No, no," he chided, reaching around to cup her breast, thumb circling her nipple. "Pay attention, love. This is educational. The pectoralis major," he squeezed gently, "so sensitive to touch."
His other hand slid between her legs, finding her center with ease. "And here," he murmured, circling the bundle of nerves with his fingers as he continued to move within her, "is where all those nerve endings converge. Fascinating bit of anatomy, wouldn't you agree?"
Y/N could only respond with incoherent sounds of pleasure, her body trembling beneath his expert touch.
"I asked you a question," he prompted, slowing his movements until she whimpered in protest.
"Yes," she gasped out. "Fascinating. Please, Klaus—"
"Please what?" His voice was silk wrapped around steel. "Continue the anatomy lesson?"
"No!" she cried out. "Just...please."
He leaned down, his chest pressed against her back, lips at her ear. "I want to hear you say it," he demanded softly. "Tell me where your attention is now."
"On you," she breathed. "You. I swear."
He smiled against her skin, satisfaction evident in the curve of his lips. "Good girl," he praised, resuming his earlier pace. "Now, shall I demonstrate what happens when these muscles contract all at once?"
His fingers moved faster against her center, his thrusts becoming more intense as he drove her toward the edge.
"Klaus!" she cried out, her body tightening around him as release crashed over her.
He followed her moments later, his own release punctuated by a low groan against her neck. They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and ragged breathing. After several moments, Klaus rolled onto his side, pulling her against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her arm as their breathing returned to normal.
"So," he said finally, amusement coloring his tone, "did that help with your studies?"
Y/N turned in his arms to face him, her expression sheepish but satisfied. "Definitely," she admitted. "Though I'm not sure I could explain any of it on an exam."
"Perhaps not," he agreed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I guarantee you'll never look at a muscle diagram the same way again."
She laughed, burying her face against his chest. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"
Klaus shook his head, a rare genuine smile softening his features. "Next time you need to study," he suggested, pulling her closer, "perhaps just ask me to pose for you properly. Less distracting for both of us."
"Where's the fun in that?" she countered, but he was already pulling her on top of him, all thoughts of anatomy lesson forgotten as her lips found his once more.
I have I request/fic idea that’s kind of a flip on the usual. Reader & Elijah are dating and he can tell that’s she’s been holding something back when they have sex and is determined to get her to let go so he really pulls out all the stops. Reader is a biter, especially in situations she needs to be quiet (& maybe even a bit of a scratcher ie kinda claws at his back) but a previous boyfriend told it was weird so she’s super self conscious about it and is always a little distracted during sex fighting the instinct to bite him. Elijah succeeds and she latches onto that area between the neck & shoulder and turns out, not only is Elijah totally fine with it, he really REALLY likes it.
Bites
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Elijah Mikaelson x f!reader}
You were afraid to bite him. Until he told you to do it again.
♡♡ hiii anon I love your mind && Happy day one of mikaelson week!! I've missed ya'll ~xo ♡♡
3.2k words - Warnings: smut, praise kink, riding, biting kink (the blood-free kind ... although Elijah absolutely wouldn’t mind...), overwhelmed reader, feral elijah && warm fire...
The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting flickering light across all of the ancient books lining the walls. Everything felt still and quiet, that kind of soft silence that only came when you were wrapped in warmth and safety. It was your favorite kind of evening, curled under a soft blanket on the sofa with your favorite person tucked close.
You still weren’t sure how you managed to pull a man like Elijah. You met a while ago, when he walked up to you like he already knew what you would say. All dark eyes and smooth charm, tailored clothes and quiet confidence. He had disarmed you instantly. From the first moment, you sensed something different about him. Though you didn’t know then just how true that would turn out to be.
And now, months later, here you were. Nestled against one of the oldest living creatures on earth, with his arm around your waist like it belonged there. He could have had anyone. And yet, he chose you.
You certainly weren’t going to argue.
A soft sigh slipped from your lips as you pressed in closer, wrapping the blanket tighter around both of you. You looked up at him, studying the familiar lines of his face in the firelight. His hair fell softly across his brow, his dark eyes tracking the lines of his book. But the way his hand moved, slow and precise, long fingers flexing just enough to remind you how they felt against your skin. That was what made your heart flutter.
Your gaze moved up to the column of his throat, the curve where neck meets shoulder. A place you kissed before many times, gently, reverently. But tonight, you didn’t want to kiss it. You wanted to bite it.
The thought hit fast and hot. You swallowed hard, shifting under the blanket as heat pooled between your thighs. It wasn’t the first time you had felt it. That deep, aching urge always crept in during quiet moments like this. When you felt content and safe around him, overwhelmed by love and want and intense feeling.
But just as quickly, shame curled through you like smoke. You shouldn’t want that. Not like this. It was too much. You were too much.
The last time you followed that instinct, let it slip past your lips in the heat of the moment, your ex hadn’t understood. He laughed. Pulled back. Shut down. Called you intense. In that tone people use when they mean something else. When they mean weird. When they mean wrong.
You pretended it didn’t hurt, but it stuck. It lived in you. Ever since, you kept that part of yourself locked away. Bit your own lip instead. Dug your nails into the sheets instead of skin. Avoided the feelings that threatened to swallow you whole.
And now here you were, held in the arms of the most perfect man you had ever known. Still too scared to show him the whole of what you wanted.
Elijah turned another page, but he hadn’t read a single word in the last five minutes. He could feel your body pressed against his side, warm and restless, your breaths coming shallower now. And he could practically hear the thoughts racing behind your silence.
He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just watched you from the corner of his eye, taking in the way your gaze lingered on him a little too long, the way your lips parted like you might say something, then thought better of it. Your breath caught.. just barely. But he noticed. He always did.
There was a flush rising beneath your skin, a certain tension in your frame that made his chest warm. You were trying so hard not to let it show. He could feel it in the way you tucked yourself a little closer, like you needed him to notice without asking. He found it very sweet.
He didn’t know what you were holding back, not exactly. But he could feel it, some small ache just beneath the surface. Something you thought you needed to hide.
He could wait. He would wait. But it was hard not to smile when you got like this. All quiet and shy…and clearly about two seconds from climbing into his lap.
His book was forgotten. His eyes were on you now, wearing that unreadable expression he saved for when he was studying something closely. Not judging. Just observing.
"W-what?" you asked, trying not to squirm. "You’re very distracting, you know that?"
Elijah gave you a small, amused smile. "I haven’t done anything."
"Exactly," you said, returning the smile. "You sit there looking like that and expect me to concentrate on anything else?"
He hummed, low and content, and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. "I was under the impression we were just reading."
"I was trying," you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed your skin. "Then your hand turned a page and my brain completely stopped working."
"That sounds serious," he said, voice dropping just a little, all low and velvet-soft as his fingers slipped beneath the blanket. "Should I be concerned?"
You giggled breathlessly just before he caught your mouth in a soft kiss. His hand trailed up your thigh, pausing just beneath the hem of your dress. Then, with careful ease, he dipped under the fabric. Your pulse quickened, but you didn’t pull away.
His palm slid higher, warm and steady against bare skin. He smiled into the kiss, then shifted, lifting you effortlessly into his lap. The blanket slid down, pooling around your waist as your knees braced on either side of his hips. He only broke the kiss long enough to lift your dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties.
He hadn’t expected his evening to go like this. Elijah had planned to read, maybe kiss you once or twice and fall asleep with you curled against his chest. But now you were in his lap, bare and radiant, and all he could do was stare. The way your skin flushed under his palms, the way your fingers trembled as they touched him. It always undid something in him.
Your hands moved to the front of his shirt, fumbling slightly with the buttons. He didn’t rush you. He liked watching you like this. A little nervous, focused, so clearly wanting him. You got halfway down before he leaned in and kissed your jaw, a whisper-soft encouragement. You pushed the fabric back off his shoulders and down his arms, quickly tossing it aside.
His hand slid down your back, firm and possessive, pulling you tight against him. He was already hard, and the pressure of it beneath you made your breath hitch. He guided your hips with slow, deliberate movements, coaxing you to grind against him. The friction stole your focus, made your fingers tremble against his skin as the heat between you deepened, hungry and sweet and impossible to ignore.
You let your hands roam across his chest, drinking him in. His skin was warm under your palms, his muscles carved and defined. Your fingertips traced the ridge of his collarbone, slid up the curve of his neck, tangled in his hair. He felt like something meant to be worshipped.
You reached between you, breath shaky, and undid the fastenings of his pants. He let you, his eyes never leaving your face. You pushed the fabric down just enough to free him, and the second your hand wrapped around him, he groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest.
You stroked him slowly, deliberately, savoring the feel of him in your hand. The way he exhaled like you were undoing him. The way his fingers dug into your thighs, the ways his pupils dilated, making them somehow even darker.
The firelight flickered across your back, casting the two of you in molten gold. He leaned in, breath warm against your throat, and you tipped your head back as he kissed along your neck, his mouth open, tongue teasing. His hand moved between your legs, slipping beneath your panties and pushing the fabric aside.
His fingers teased you gently, not enough to satisfy, just enough to make your hips shift, seeking more.
"Go slow for me. Let it ache a while," he murmured. "I'll take care of you."
Your body trembled with anticipation, with need, and you bit your lip, stifling a whimper. He kept his touches light, too light, just barely brushing the surface, then a little deeper, circling and coaxing until your legs began to shake.
You tried to stay in control. Tried to hold back the part of you that wanted to claw, to bite, to take. The part that always felt too hungry.
But then he pulled away, slow and deliberate, and shifted beneath you. He pressed the head of his cock right where you wanted him most and held there, unmoving, letting the need twist hot and sharp inside you.
You held your breath as he pressed against you, and then, slowly, you began to sink down. You let out a quiet moan, savoring the stretch and the way his hands tightened around you, steadying you.
You started to move, slow and careful. Lifting just enough to feel the pull before sinking down again. Every motion was thick with wet heat, achingly slow. Sweet friction that built fire with every pass.
Your muscles burned with the effort of staying in control, and your heart pounded like it was trying to claw its way out of your chest. Your nails digging into the sofa.
His hands slid along your spine, grounding you as he let you set the pace. But it was not enough to hold back the rush building in your blood.
It was too much. The pleasure. The pressure. The unbearable fullness of him, deep and steady, everywhere.
And still, you tried to hold it together.
Still, you held back.
He felt it in the hitch of your breath, in the tremble that started in your thighs and worked its way through you like a current. Your heart was a wild, beautiful thing beneath your skin. Fluttering against your ribs, echoing in his ears like a siren’s call. And your scent… god, the warmth of it, the way clouded all of his senses as you eased down onto him. It nearly undid him.
You were trying so hard to stay composed. He could see it in the tension at your jaw, the way your fingers dug into the leather behind you instead of into him. It made something sorrowful ache in his chest. You were holding back. Still afraid. Still unsure if it was safe to fall apart with him.
He wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to be. That he could take it. That he wanted it. Wanted you to be hungry, wild and unrestrained. But he didn’t speak. Not yet. He didn’t dare interrupt the soft, sacred rhythm you set.
One of his hands slid across your shoulder, fingers trailing down your arm until he found your wrist. He brought it forward, pressed your palm to his chest, his skin hot beneath your touch.
“Touch me,” he said softly, steady as a heartbeat. “You don’t need to hold back.”
Your pulse jumped. The warmth of his skin, the steady thump under your palm, was too much. Too intimate. Too good. Your other hand followed, splayed flat over his heart. His hands returned to your waist.
You moved again, hips rolling deep and slow. You arched into him, nails dragging red down his chest. The pleasure built and built. And still, it wasn’t enough.
Your body trembled, caught between the instinct to take and the fear of being too much. You kissed along his jaw... that beautiful jaw. Just a little bit of stubble, sharp enough to cut. You kissed along it, slowly, breathing him in, afraid and desperate in equal parts to sink your teeth in.
Your mouth lingered there. Open. Wanting. But not daring.
His fingers flexed at your hips.
"Take it," he murmured, voice wrecked. "Whatever you want. Take it."
And finally you gave in.
You sank your teeth into the curve where neck met shoulder. Not enough to break skin, not on someone like him, but enough to hurt. Enough to shake him.
Elijah’s groan was guttural, the sound of a man utterly undone. His head fell back, and hips jerked beneath you, a sudden, uncontrolled thrust, and your body clamped down around him so tight it made your breath catch.
“Fuck.”
He swore under his breath, more primal than polished now and his hands squeezed your ass, guiding your hips.
“Again,” he hissed. “Harder.”
Your chest clenched. No one had ever enjoyed your intense side. No one had ever asked for more. The shame that always curled beneath your ribs was gone, burned out by the raw need in his voice. He wasn’t tolerating it. He was loving it.
And you were helpless to resist.
You bit him again, harder, and the strangled sound that escaped him sent a thrill down your spine. Your hands were shaking, fingers pressed tight against his chest, and your heart was pounding, but everything else felt perfectly, blissfully clear.
"Yes," he breathed, and his hand slipped between you, his fingers stroking over the spot where you were joined, and then up, rubbing in insistent circles over your clit, "Yes, love, yes..."
You moaned against his neck, the sound muffled. It was too much. The feel of him moving beneath you, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his skin, the press of his fingers, his hand against your back. The sounds he made. That beautiful, wrecked voice saying yes, over and over again.
Your mouth was everywhere, rabidly moving along the line of his jaw, the sharp ridge of his throat, the flushed skin you already marked once. You bit down over and over, teeth dragging just enough to make him groan, filthy and low. You felt drunk on it, dizzy, like the whole world was spinning around you and he was the only thing that could keep you upright.
Your hips bucked hard, your rhythm lost, and he began to bounce you, lifting your hips and bringing them back down with a punishing force. Every thrust drove a ragged sound from the both of you.
“Elijah,” you gasped, already breathless, fingers curling into his shoulders.
“Again,” he growled, voice sharp now. “Fucking bite me.”
The command in his voice hit like a punch to the gut. A moan tore from your throat as you did, harder this time, the taste of his skin flooding your tongue. His pace increased, his whole body shuddered, and his cock twitched deep inside you as he cursed under his breath. He started moving you even faster, every thrust hit something perfect, something devastating, and your moans turned into broken little sobs.
Your hands scrambled for his skin, digging into his chest, his shoulders, holding on as you bounced in his lap, thighs burning, body slick with sweat and slick and spit.
“Look at you,” he gasped, voice gone completely hoarse, his dark eyes wide and wrecked. “So fucking sweet like this. Look at how you ride me…wild fucking thing-”
You didn’t even recognize the sound you made. You were too far gone.
It wasn’t even sex anymore. It was heat and hunger and something feral. You bit him again, just under his jaw this time, and he groaned, his hips losing their rhythm, and you didn't care. You didn’t care how loud you were, how your teeth tore at his skin, the way your nails left angry red marks down his chest.
The ache in you was so deep. It had been there for months, burning like an ember in your core. And now, finally, the fire was burning through you, scorching everything else away. There was nothing but this moment.
You came with a cry, body clenching down around him in waves, your whole body shaking, lips still pressed to his skin. You couldn't stop. You didn’t want to. You kept licking, kissing, moaning into his neck as the pleasure overtook you completely.
He followed you, voice wrecked and raw, hands still guiding you through it as he spilled inside you with a shudder that wracked his whole frame.
Slowly, the world came back. The crackle of the fire, the cool leather of the couch, the heat of his body, and the gentle press of his lips against your cheek, your neck, your shoulder.
Your limbs felt like lead, and all the air left your lungs in a shaky exhale.
"Holy shit," you managed, still gasping for breath.
"That is," he murmured, the ghost of a smile on his lips, "One way to put it."
You laughed, still dizzy, and collapsed against his chest. He pulled the blanket back up around the both of you, his hands smoothing along your spine, soothing you as your breath came in pants.
The fire had burned low. Most of the room had fallen into shadow, and the chill of the air was starting to creep back in. Without a word, Elijah shifted, carefully disentangling himself from the mess of limbs and blankets.
“No,” you mumbled, arms wrapping tighter around his middle. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He chuckled softly. “Nowhere far, sweetheart.”
You let him go reluctantly, flopping onto your side as he stood. And then … well. You definitely didn’t regret letting him go.
The firelight kissed every plane of his body in soft orange-gold. You watched as he moved to the fireplace, unhurried and utterly unbothered to be naked, every muscle flexing as he bent to adjust the wood in the hearth. Strong shoulders, defined arms and the curve of his back… he looked like he should be carved into stone. He didn’t even have to look at you to know what you were thinking.
“You’re staring,” he said without looking back.
“You’re naked,” you shot back, pulling the blanket up to your chin, flushed and smiling.
He gave the fire one last nudge and turned, smiling in that infuriatingly composed way. “So I am.”
He crossed the room with slow, easy steps, the light catching the curves and ridges of his torso. Your gaze drifted lower, and he laughed, a low rumble in his chest. “You alright?”
You nodded, blushing.
He climbed back onto the couch, leaning in to kiss you, long and languid. When he pulled back, you were grinning, and he looked thoroughly pleased with himself.
“Was that alright?” you asked, voice small. “I know I can get… in my head. And the biting thing, it’s…”
He shook his head and kissed you again, gentle and certain, as if to hush every doubt before it could reach your lips.
“My love,” he said, brushing a knuckle down your cheek. “You are speaking to a vampire. You think I’d be scandalized by a few enthusiastic nibbles?”
You giggled, a little fluttery in your chest. He pulled the blanket closer, settling in beside you. He kissed the corner of your mouth, then the tip of your nose, then down to your jaw. He continued like that, peppering soft kisses all along the line of your jaw until he reached your ear. “I meant what I said. I want all of you. Even the parts you think are too much. Especially those.”
Your heart clenched.
You peeked up at him again, shy. “Even if I want to bite you like… all the time?”
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Pairing(s): Kol Mikaelson x Salvatore!reader, Platonic!Mikaelsons x Salvatore!reader, Platonic!Salvatores x Sister!reader
Summary: The real reason you return to Mystic Falls is revealed to your brothers.
Warnings: Emotional Neglect? (on the Salvatore brothers side), Betrayal (duh), Blood, ANGST, Violence, Klaus getting dagger happy, Klaus being incredibly cruel and deranged (normal Klaus behavior), Reader is traumatized (because of Klaus), Reader isn’t really a good person, A lot of neck snapping, Katherine Pierce, Inaccurate historical depictions, Switches between past and present, Some timeline errors and changes, Uses of Y/N, Kol not showing up til like 2k words in, Inconsistencies in the tense it’s written in (what a shock.)
Notes: THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TITLED ‘THE ART OF BETRAYAL’ BEFORE I DECIDED ‘THE DARKNESS’ FIT BETTER!
Reader is ten, turning eleven when she meets Katherine. She isn’t turned into a vampire until she’s 19.
Pizzelles are an Italian cookie. (Yes, this is random. Yes, this is kind of important.)
Canonically Kol was daggered in 1821 because of his lovely iteration of Hamlet, he wasn’t undaggered until 1901. In this, we’ll say he was still daggered in 1821 but was undaggered some time before 1870. Again with the dagger stuff, Rebekah is canonically daggered until 1887 after all the Marcel thing, in this she was undaggered some time before 1870.
And finally, a big thank you to @wholoveseggs for all her support and encouragement while I’ve been writing this because without her, I probably wouldn’t have finished this!
Word Count: 16.3k (goodness gracious)
MASTER POST , TVDU MASTERLIST
———————
Present Day
Mystic Falls
It had been one hundred and forty-six years since you had seen your brothers. Actually, it had been one hundred and forty-six years since they had seen you. You kept tabs on them over the years, always so close but not close enough for them to find you. As far as your brothers were concerned, you were dead and technically you were.
In truth, you didn’t want to see them but you had to. You had to for him.
So here you were, driving past the Mystic Falls welcome sign. Your jaw clenches at the sight of it, you hadn’t been here since 1864. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you to turn around, that you didn’t want to be back here, that it was going to hurt you. You shoved the feeling away and continued driving until you reached your destination.
The old Salvatore Boarding House, your old home.
You take a deep breath before walking up to the door. It’s wide open and you can hear Stefan and Damon arguing inside. Your best guess is Stefan tried to walk away from Damon by slamming the door on him and all it did was make Damon angrier and he flung it open.
You followed the yelling to the living room, they were so caught up in their argument that they hadn’t noticed you leaning on the door frame.
“I see you two still fight like cats and dogs… I’m sure this is about some silly girl,” you finally speak up, announcing your presence.
They both immediately stop and look at you.
“Who the hell are you?” Damon asks instantaneously and you couldn’t blame him, the last time he saw you, you were just a kid.
You pout, placing a hand over your heart, “that hurts Damon.”
Letting out a dramatic sigh you place your hands on your hips, “I guess that’s fair though… I mean, it has been a really long time, one hundred and forty-six years in fact and I was just a little kid then.”
“I was about this tall…” you gesture with your hand then gasp, bringing your hand to your mouth, “And the last time we spoke was in this house, in this room!”
Stefan’s eyes widened a bit, his face becoming one of shock and realization, “Y/N?” he whispers.
You smirk and Damon scoffs, “That's not possible, our sister is dead.”
“Well, you’re not wrong about that, though, I believe the proper term is undead—“
You’re cut off by Damon rushing at you, slamming you into the wall, and holding you up by your throat.
“Damon.” Stefan warns.
“This isn’t Y/N, Stefan! It can’t be! This is some sick imposter! I don’t know how they found out… but Y/N… she’s been dead for over a hundred years!”
You knee him in the stomach, causing him to double over and drop you, “Undead.”
Damon grunts, stumbling back but he quickly recovers, “Okay, let’s say you are our sister… Why now, huh?! Why find us now, after a hundred some years?!” he shouts.
You scoff, standing up straight, “Because I saw you both die! I saw father shoot you both dead! You remember that night right? The night you both tried to save Katherine? The night you were turned?”
You paused for a moment, directing your next words to Damon, “The night you told me I wasn’t your sister anymore.”
You knew being back here would be hard, you knew it would hurt. What you didn’t expect was for Damon to seemingly forget everything that happened in 1864. He looked away from you causing you to scoff.
“That woman ruined our family the moment she stepped foot in Mystic Falls.”
1864
Mystic Falls
You stood next to Stefan, rocking back and forth on your heels as you watched the carriage approach.
Your father had told you that a woman was coming to stay with you all, a woman named Katherine Pierce. You were excited for her arrival, you loved Stefan, Damon, and occasionally your father but you were ecstatic to have another girl around.
The carriage opened and two women got out, you followed Stefan down the stairs, standing right next to him.
“You must be Miss Pierce,” your brother says with his hands still behind his back.
Miss Pierce smirks, “Please,” she reaches her hand out for him to take, which he does, “Call me Katherine.”
They stare at each other for a moment, seemingly having a silent conversation before you interrupt, “Hello!”
Katherine seems taken aback by the sudden voice but puts on a smile, “And who might you be?”
“Y/N!”
Stefan chuckles and places his hand onto your shoulder, “This is my little sister, father jokes that she’s my shadow,” your brother teases, “She’d be following Damon around as well but he’s off at war.”
You frown at the mention of your other brother, not noticing the way Katherine’s gaze hardens.
Katherine would grow close with Stefan over the next weeks and unfortunately for you, she made it abundantly clear that she didn’t like you. You couldn’t figure out why but Stefan continually reassured you that Katherine had no problems with you so you tried to let it go.
Then after some time, Damon returned home and you were overjoyed. You had always been close with your brothers, they were practically your only friends. You had been lonely since Katherine had arrived due to Stefan’s infatuation, you hoped now that Damon was back you wouldn’t be so lonely.
“Damon!” you cheered upon seeing him, “Day! You’re back!”
He chuckles, “That I am!”
You rush to hug him which he quickly reciprocates, patting your head. But his gaze focused elsewhere.
“Who is she?” he points.
You turn to see who he’s looking at and sigh, “That is Miss Katherine Pierce, she’s been staying with us for some time now.”
You beckon Damon to lean down so you could whisper in his ear, “I think Stefan may be in love with her.”
Your eldest brother raises a brow and stands up straight, “Hm? Well… I suppose I should introduce myself to our guest…”
Just like that, Damon was infatuated as well. It was as if Katherine was a siren and both your brothers had been tricked by her song.
You watched Katherine as she led on both your brothers, knowing that at least one of them would be getting a broken heart. Though, you had a feeling they’d both end up heartbroken.
The one event that really broke you was when both your brothers were nowhere to be seen on your birthday, and when you did find them it was like they had no idea what the day was.
You hated Katherine, but you weren’t scared of her. Until you saw her true face.
You knew what she was, a vampire. Your father had told you stories about vampires, they’re evil monsters. He told you if you ever even heard whispers of a vampire that you had to tell him and he’d take care of it.
So you told him and he came up with a plan that you would enact within the week.
“What is that delicious smell?” Damon asks as he walks into the kitchen.
You let out a little laugh, “I baked cookies! Would you like one?”
“I’d love one,” Damon takes one of the cookies from the tray, patting your head as he did.
The first step of the plan was complete, now all you had to do was sit back and wait.
It wouldn’t take long for Katherine to come back to the boarding house with Stefan, he goes and sits on the couch while Katherine begins to go upstairs. She turns to give Damon a look and he immediately rushes to follow her up the stairs.
Moments later there’s a scream, followed by shouting from your father, Damon, and some men you don’t know. Stefan is off the couch quickly and at the steps immediately.
Multiple men are dragging Katherine down the stairs while Damon yells at your father. Stefan stands in shock as you reach his side. Katherine is taken out of the house by the men and put into a guarded carriage. Your father holds Damon to the wall as the carriage leaves your home, finally, his eyes land on you and he lets go of Damon, rushing to you, he places a kiss on your head.
“You were right, my dear. You did good.”
With that, he rushes out the door to the carriage, leaving you alone with your brothers.
Stefan’s voice is quiet, “You know what she is…”
“And you told father!” Damon shouts.
“She’s a monster Damon!” you yell.
He scoffs, “You don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re ten! A child!”
Your frown, “My birthday was a month ago Damon… I’m eleven… or have you forgotten?”
“It doesn’t matter! How you could be so cruel… I don't understand… I don’t recognize you… you’re no sister of mine. Not anymore.”
“Damon!” Stefan yells.
Damon shakes his head, shoving past you to the door, “Let’s go Stefan! If we’re quick we can save her!”
And just like that, they rush out of the house without sparring you a second glance. They didn’t know it at the time, but moments later you would run out of the house after them.
Present Day
Mystic Falls
“I never went back home… it wouldn’t be home if you were both dead... So I ran and ran and didn’t look back… I travelled all over… never staying in one place for too long.”
Stefan steps forward and pulls you into a tight hug and you allow him too. It had been a century since you had hugged anyone, you almost forgot how to. He pulls away to get a better look at your face, how you’ve grown since he last saw you.
“How old are you? Physically?”
“It’s rude to ask a woman’s age, Stef…” you giggle before giving an actual answer, “Nineteen, I was turned in 1872… which I guess makes me your big sister.”
He chuckles, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”
Damon crosses his arms, “How’d you turn?”
“Willingly, if that’s what you’re asking… my boyfriend at the time turned me, we wanted to spend forever together.”
“Ironic, sounds a lot like my story with Katherine.”
You furrow your brows, “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying, you’re a hypocrite.”
You scoff and Damon takes that as his signal to continue, “Where is this boyfriend of yours now?”
You squeeze your eyes shut, “He’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“Dead.” you lie.
“I’m sorry Y/N,” Stefan smiles softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.
Suddenly, the floorboards creak causing all of you to look at the sound. There she stood, Elena Gilbert.
“Oh… I’m sorry I didn’t realize you had company…” She clears her throat, “Uh… Stefan, you called me?”
Thinking quickly, you speed away from Stefan and slam the girl into the wall. You weren’t dumb, you knew who she was and you knew she wasn’t Katherine but your brothers didn’t know that you knew. Everything would be fine as long as you didn’t kill her, he wouldn’t mind if she was roughed up a bit.
“You keep the bitch around?! After everything?!”
Stefan and Damon sped to your side, Damon ripping you away from her.
You scoff, “You still protect her!”
“This isn’t Katherine,” Stefan says before pulling Elena to him, the girl holding her throat.
“Looks exactly like her!”
Damon rolls his eyes, pulling you farther away, “We know. We have eyes. It’s weird, some weird, freaky nature thing but she’s not Katherine. Smell her, she’s human.”
You turn your attention to Stefan and Elena who are both looking at you, waiting for your next move. Stefan is ready to jump in front of Elena to save her, you almost roll your eyes but resist, this would be like 1864 all over again.
You walk over to them, slowly, tilting your head at Elena.
“I’m Elena…Elena Gilbert.”
You give her a half smile, “Y/N. Sorry.”
You hold out your hand for her to take, which she does after looking at Stefan to make sure you were safe.
“This happens a lot, you’d be surprised…”
“No, I wouldn’t be. Katherine’s a bitch. A lot of people want her dead,” you pause, “Consider getting a tattoo on your forehead,” you brush your pointer finger and thumb across your forehead, “‘Not Katherine’.”
Elena giggles, “In size forty font.”
You crack a smile, she seemed sweet, you almost felt bad about what was going to happen, almost.
“You’re a friend of Stefan and Damon’s?”
“I’m their sister,” you smirk, chuckling at the shocked expression on her face.
“Our sister who we thought was dead up until about five minutes ago,” Damon adds, still suspicious of you.
“I didn’t know you were alive either until I heard rumors from some vampires that fled from here…” another lie.
Stefan and Damon share a look and you look between them, “What?” You ask.
“The tomb vampires.”
Stefan pats your back, “C’mon, we got a lot of catching up to do.”
“Well, this is lovely but are we going to discuss what we’re here for?” A new voice cuts in, she looks familiar but you can’t quite place her.
Elena on the other hand looks terrified, “You…”
“Like he said, a lot of catching up to do,” the woman smiles.
You all sat down in the living room while the woman who you learned to be Rose began to pace back and forth while speaking, “Okay, you have to understand, I only know what I’ve picked up over the years- and I don’t know what’s true and what’s not. That’s the problem with all this vampire crap but Klaus I know is real.”
You keep your expression neutral, you had been told the story of Katerina Petrova, Katherine Pierce as you knew her and how she escaped her death by Klaus and Elijah both. That’s why this woman was familiar, she had played a role in the escape.
“Who is he?” Elena asks.
Damon speaks up, “He’s one of the originals. He’s a legend,” he widens his eyes for dramatic flair.
”From the first generation of vampires,” Stefan gestures with his glass.
“Like Elijah?”
Rose sighs, dropping her shoulders, “No, Elijah is the Easter Bunny compared to Klaus. He’s a foot soldier, Klaus is the real deal.”
You look down to hide the smile on your face, Elijah? The Easter Bunny? Now that was a funny joke.
“Klaus is known to be the oldest…” Stefan adds and that almost makes you giggle.
“So…” Elena begins, “You're saying the oldest vampire in the history of time is coming after me?”
Well, not the oldest.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Damon sighs, standing up, “No, what they’re saying is, I mean, if what she’s saying is true—“
“Which it is,” Rose cuts in.
“—And you’re not just saying this so we don’t kill you…”
“Which I’m not.”
Damon sighs, “Then… we’re looking at a solid maybe?”
“Look,” Stefan says, going to sit next to Elena, “Elijah’s dead so no one else even knows you exist.”
This makes you look up, unless these idiots found a white oak stake, Elijah was not dead, he was simply resting and he’d be pissed when he got back. You only hoped that he’d stay clear of you, you still held a soft spot for the man and you didn’t want to rat him out, but you would if you had to.
“Not that you know of,” Rose adds.
“That’s not helping…” Damon mutters.
“I’ve never even met anyone who has laid eyes on him, we’re talking centuries of truth mixed with fiction!” Stefan argues, “For all we know he could just be some sort of stupid bedtime story…” he looks at Elena, trying to reassure her that she’s safe.
Rose scoffs, “He’s real and he doesn’t give up. If he wants something, he gets it.” Well ain’t that the truth.
“If you’re not afraid of Klaus then you’re an idiot.” Rose adds. Also true.
“Well, what about you little sister?” Damon asks, gesturing to you, “You ever heard of Klaus?”
“No.” Yes. “I doubt he’s even real.” He’s very real.
“You mentioned you traveled a lot,” Stefan looks at you, “You’ve never heard of the original vampires?”
“Never.”
1870
New Orleans
You had showered off all of the blood, trying to rid yourself of the horrible memory. Why was it that vampires seemed to be everywhere you went? And now you were staying in a house with not one, but four vampires.
Sighing, you get out of the shower and change into the outfit Elijah had provided for you, it was a simple night gown, reaching past your knees. You find your way to the guest room that Elijah had shown you and curl into the bed, unable to sleep. You stay in that position all night, not getting even a wink of rest.
When morning comes, you make your way downstairs to the living room, “Elijah?” you call out softly, knowing that he’d be able to hear even the faintest of whispers.
There’s a whoosh behind you causing you to spin around on your heel, expecting to see Elijah but you don’t. A man stands by the couch, smirking.
”I see my brother has taken to copying me. Bringing home his very own charity case,” the man announces as he drops down on the couch to sit, urging you to sit down as well, you do in fear of upsetting him.
You fidget with your hands out of nervousness and he cracks a smile.
“No need to be scared, love. I’m Klaus…” he holds a hand out for you to take and you do, rather reluctantly.
When you don’t say anything, he continues, “Did my brother say something about me?”
You shake your head, “No, not you.”
“Oh? Not me? Did he say anything about my other siblings, do tell me. I’m just dying to know.”
You look around the room before turning back to him, “He said I should be careful around Kol…”
“Ah, my little brother, yes, he can be quite reckless… and rather… insatiable…”
“Are you talking badly about me to our new guest?” a voice that you assume belongs to Kol fills the room.
Klaus clicks his tongue, holding back a laugh, “No, no, little brother. Simply warning the girl of your tendencies…”
Kol scoffs, before leaning over the back of the couch, his chin practically touching your shoulder as he whispers to you, “Don’t listen to him, darling… or Elijah for that matter.”
You jump a bit and tilt your head away from him, inadvertently giving the vampire easy access to your neck. He chuckles and surprisingly, leans away.
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Kol! Elijah already said you’re to leave her alone!” a blonde girl comes bouncing into the room, pulling Kol further away from you.
In a flash she’s in front of you, holding her hand out for you to take, “I’m Rebekah! It’ll be nice to have another girl around!”
She then looks you up and down, taking in your current outfit, “Now this just won’t do, come now,” she reaches her other hand out for you and when you take it she pulls you off of the couch.
She quickly begins to pull you towards the stairs just as Elijah comes back into the room, he sighs upon seeing you and his sister.
“Do not overwhelm the poor girl, Rebekah.”
“Relax Elijah, I’m only going to get her a change of clothes… and we must do something with this hair!” she twirls a piece of your hair.
And with that, Rebekah practically drags you up to her room.
“Sit.” she guides you to a vanity chair, “You’ve got gorgeous features but this hair… this dress… they are not doing you any favors…”
Your face flushes, “Oh, I haven’t had much money for clothing let alone food… It's been hard to find work and I never really learned how to do my own hair… my brother used to do it for me and he’d allow me to braid his… I just can’t seem to do so when it’s my own head.”
Rebekah smiles softly, “You needn’t worry, I have plenty of options for you!” she rushes to her closet, opening it to reveal a plethora of different dresses.
She holds up a gown with a bit of lace detailing that goes up to the neck, “This will do nicely. Much better than this night gown…” she says as she brushes the sleeve of the dress you currently wore.
She hands you the gown, “Go now,” she points to the bathrooom, “get dressed and I’ll do your hair!”
You do as she says and come back, having her help you tie the back.
“Now, let’s fix this hair.” she pushes you back down into the chair, “Would you like a braid?”
You nod, “That would be lovely…”
Rebekah hums, “You said your brother used to do your hair… Where is he now?”
Your eyes widen a bit before you look down, “Oh, uhm, he’s dead… That’s why I ran from home…”
“You’re a runaway?”
You crack a smile, trying to be as confident as possible, “Was my ratty appearance and lack of cash not enough to give that away?”
Rebekah chuckles, “I suppose… were you always poor?” she asks, nonchalantly.
“Oh Heavens no. My family was very wealthy… the wealthiest family in our town. My father was a landowner.”
“You didn’t think to take any money before running?” She raises a brow.
“I was only eleven at the time and had just witnessed… something awful…” you take a deep breath, you hadn’t ever spoken about this out loud, “I needed to get away.”
Rebekah frowns, dropping your hair, “Elijah said you’re seventeen, you’ve been on your own for six years?”
You nod and Rebekah’s frown deepens, “That’s a long time to be alone… that must have been awful.”
“I’ve managed,” you shrug, “I went back once, a week after I had left when I got second thoughts… I found out that my father had also passed. I came across a newspaper, they believed that someone had killed my father and taken me…”
“He was killed?”
You hum, and Rebekah picks up your hair again.
“Did they ever catch his killer?”
“No… but I have a suspicion it was a vampire.”
“Why would you think that?” she asks as she finishes your braid.
“His head was nearly ripped off.”
A few days later, Klaus found you. Elijah was dealing with other matters so he wasn’t there to monitor his brother's behavior.
You were alone when he found you, in the kitchen. Baking was something that you enjoyed doing at your old home and after running away you hadn’t been able to. Elijah welcomed you to use the kitchen and bake whatever you’d like, saying he wanted to make sure you felt comfortable during your stay.
“Not too broken up about your father being murdered?”
The sudden voice causes you to jump, spilling the cup of sugar you were holding.
“You startled me,” you sigh, beginning to clean up the sugar.
“You’re easy to frighten,” in a second, Klaus is directly next to you, making you yelp, he smirks, “Now answer the question.”
“What?”
“Your father…” he practically circles you, “You think a vampire killed him? You didn’t seem too sad about it.”
“I… it was six years ago… wait, you were listening when I was talking to Rebekah?”
Klaus hums, “Six years is not that long,” he ignores your question, besides, you already knew the answer. “Well, to a vampire at least. I suppose I could buy that if your heart wasn’t racing.”
You let out a breath, “Klaus—“
“Yes yes, I know Elijah has told you to stay clear of me even if you deny it…”
“That’s not—“
“You didn’t like your father!” he exclaims, making your eyes widen, “I’ve figured it out, huh? What was so awful about the man? Do tell.”
You scowl, you knew you shouldn’t mouth off to the vampires but Klaus was testing your patience, “Not that it’s any of your business but, he… he killed my brothers.”
“Brothers? Plural? Interesting, you only mentioned one to Rebekah. You’re lying to us now?”
“I- No! I only mentioned the one that did my hair! I didn’t lie!”
“Withholding the truth then,” he smirks.
You sigh, “Elijah knows everything already, I’ve told him everything. I haven’t lied, both my brothers fell for a vampire- my father got involved…” tears begin to prick the corners of your eyes, “…he ended up killing them both… I assume the vampire- that she got away, that she killed my father… that’s why I’ve been alone.” tears begin to stain your cheeks.
You sniffle, rubbing at your eyes when the door opens. Klaus has a sheepish expression when Elijah enters the room.
“Niklaus,” he practically hisses, “What did you do?”
“Nothing! I simply asked the girl a few questions!”
Elijah narrows his eyes, “I’m sure.”
You went upstairs and stayed there for the rest of the day, trying to avoid everyone. You were deep in thought when Kol’s voice startled you.
“My brother made you cry? He does tend to have that effect on women.”
Kol chuckles, and you turn to see him leaning against the doorframe of the room Elijah has you staying in. Your eyes widen and you turn your back to him, probably not your best move considering he’s a vampire but Elijah had told you to stay away. It was bad enough that you had spoken to him earlier but at least then his siblings were around, now you truly were alone.
“Like I said darling, you needn't be scared.”
“Elijah told me not to speak with you, he wouldn’t have told me that for no reason.”
Kol scoffs, “He’s always so dramatic.”
You don’t respond and Kol sighs, “I’ll go if you want, I simply wanted to make sure Nik didn’t upset you too badly… you’re too pretty to be upset over him.”
You blush, he sounds genuine but you couldn’t trust it. You also didn’t want to upset Elijah, he was the one who was giving you a home after all. He could easily kick you out and back onto the street to fend for yourself.
“I’d just like to be left alone… please.”
You hummed mindlessly in the kitchen, swaying while you baked. It had been three months since the Mikaelsons had allowed you into their home, Elijah promised he would find you your own home soon enough but he had been so busy with other duties.
You didn’t mind, you had grown used to living in their home. Ironically, living in the house of deadly original vampires had been the safest you had ever felt. The Mikaelsons had completely changed your opinion of vampires in just a few, short months. Rebekah had become a close friend of yours, Klaus had stopped his frequent questioning and began to see you as a friend (he never apologized but you knew he felt bad when he gifted you a necklace), and Kol… well… Kol was complicated.
After he had checked on you that day, you became curious about him. Elijah’s warnings only did so much to curb your curiosity. At first you had listened, avoided Kol at all costs but there was just something about him that kept pulling you in.
You would often find your mind wandering back to him. His face, his hair, his eyes, his cheshire-like grin…
Kol was determined to get you to break your walls down, he would find you all the time, whether you were painting like Nik had taught you, braiding your hair like Rebekah, or even just laying in your bed. He would find you and you’d just chat.
You brought up Kol to Elijah once, you wanted to know what was so horrible about him because when he was with you, he was sweet. Elijah wouldn’t give you a clear answer, just reminded you that he was dangerous. You wouldn’t mention how much time you had begun to spend with Kol to Elijah, in fear of making him upset.
But he found out, just like you knew he would.
“Miss Y/N, may I speak with you?” Elijah asks as he enters the kitchen.
You turn to look at him, just having finished the dough for the cookies you were making, “Of course, Elijah.”
“I notice you have become quite close with Kol as of late.”
You gulp, looking down, feeling guilty, Elijah had asked one thing of you and you weren’t even able to do that.
“I’m sorry, I know I—“
Elijah holds up his hand to silence you, “Please.”
You let out a shaky breath and Elijah lowers his hand, “I’ve never seen my little brother care for someone like he cares for you… especially after such a short amount of time. You… you’re good for him. He’s changed… so no more of this sneaking around like children,” he waves his hand to gesture around.
Your face flushes, “Oh we’re not… we’re just… we’re not together…”
Elijah smirks, giving you a knowing look, “I never said anything about a relationship.”
1871
New Orleans
“What are you reading?” Kol asks as he drops onto the couch, sitting next to you.
“Frankenstein,” you hum, not bothering to look up from the book, turning a page.
Kol nods, “I’ve heard of that one…”
You two sit in silence for a moment before Kol sighs dramatically. You close your eyes, composing yourself when Kol sighs again. You mark your page and close the book, finally turning to look at him.
“What Kol?”
He shrugs, “I’m bored.”
“Bored?”
“Very.”
You sigh, “Can I at least finish my chapter before we go off to cause whatever chaos you have planned?”
Kol rolls his eyes, “Fine,” he draws out the word.
Just as you’re about to pick up the book again, Kol drops his head into your lap, laying across the couch.
You tense up immediately, “Kol. What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you to finish your chapter, darling,” he mumbles, “Your thighs are very comfortable.”
You sigh, forcing yourself to relax, it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy his touch or him being this close, it was that it made you nervous. You were falling for Kol, you knew you were and every touch, no matter how small, made you nervous. Touching was common with Kol, you had a feeling it was how he showed affection.
It didn’t take long for you to finish your chapter, “Kol,” you say quietly but get no response.
Your brows furrow and you look closer at him in your lap, he was breathing evenly, his eyes closed. He was asleep. He looked peaceful, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he looked innocent and angelic.
You weighed your options, you could wake him up and put distance between the two of you… or you could let him sleep, curled in your lap, while you read another chapter.
You decided on the second option and it definitely had nothing to do with the fact you wanted to keep him so close.
It was calm, everything about the moment was so domestic. You wished you could stay here forever, reading a novel while an original vampire laid asleep on you as you brushed your fingers through his hair.
Unfortunately, no nice thing could last.
The door to the compound flung open, angry footsteps filling the silence.
“Niklaus, wait a moment. Let us think about this.”
“There is nothing to think about!”
Kol tenses in your lap at the loud voices, stirring in his sleep. He sits up, forcing the sleep from his eyes.
Klaus enters the living room, glaring daggers at you. You don’t seem to pick up on his angry gaze, “Did you get it?” you ask excitedly.
You had mentioned a few weeks ago that your mother had a cookbook that contained all of your family's recipes. After she died, the book remained in the study of the boarding house. You were sad, you wanted the book back because you couldn’t remember any of the recipes and Elijah had offered to go get it for you.
You told him not to be ridiculous and that he’d have to travel the whole way to Mystic Falls to get it, he seemed to tense a bit at the name but insisted nonetheless. So you told him about the boarding house and where he would find it, Klaus insisted on accompanying him.
“Yes.” Klaus answers coldly, dropping the book onto the coffee table.
You squeal and lean forward grabbing the book, “Thankyou!” you begin to flip through it, “You have no idea how much this means to me…” you look up, trailing off when you finally notice the look on Klaus’ face.
“We found something else too,” his tone is detached as he tosses a picture onto the coffee table.
You recognized the photo instantly, it had been taken shortly after Katherine arrived in Mystic Falls. It was of you, Stefan, and Katherine. The three of you had smiles on your faces, though, it was obvious Katherine’s was fake.
“Her,” he points to Katherine.
“What?”
“Don't play dumb with me,” Klaus practically growls, “This is the vampire you mentioned?”
You gulp, nodding, “I- yes, that’s Katherine…”
“Katherine?” Elijah muses, “Is that the name she’s using now?”
You didn’t miss the subtle way that Kol slid forward on the couch, or the way he placed his hand on your thigh, attempting to hide you behind his arm, to shield you from Klaus’ fury.
“Where is she?” Klaus keeps his gaze locked onto you.
“I don’t know… I haven’t seen her since I ran from home…”
Kol squeezes your thigh to try and calm you down, to reassure you that he wouldn’t let Klaus hurt you even if he tried. You were grateful for him and Elijah, Klaus was impulsive at times, especially if he thought he was being betrayed.
After a considerable amount of time, Klaus had calmed down. He and Elijah explained the story of Katerina to you, how she had escaped her death, and how Klaus wanted her to be scared before he killed her. How he wanted her to suffer.
Just like last time, Klaus didn’t apologize, the day after you found three books on your nightstand, Pride and Prejudice, Little Women, and Les Miserables.
A few weeks had passed since the Mikaelsons found out about your history with Katherine. And you all went on with life like nothing had happened, Klaus would occasionally ask about Katherine and you would always answer his questions. Katherine was why your brothers were dead. Katherine was the reason you hated vampires. And the Mikaelsons were the reason you didn’t anymore.
“My mother used to make these when I was little… this is actually her recipe- well, my great grandmother's recipe,” you tell Kol as he watches you close the pizzelle iron.
He hums, reaching for one that’s cooling, “In all my life, I’ve never had one of these…”
Your eyes light up, “Oh! I’ve been meaning to ask you this! I know you eat my baked goods… but does human food actually taste good to you?”
Kol tilts his head, “I’ve told you numerous times, darling, you’re an excellent baker…”
“But that’s not what I asked, I wish to know if you enjoy them…”
“Your treats are delectable… as are you,” Kol flirts, leaning closer.
Your face heats up at his comment, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Kol Mikaelson.”
“No?” he raises a brow, his face just inches from yours.
“Well, maybe somewhere…” you whisper, your gaze flickers to his lips.
He smirks, “And where would that be?”
“You tell me…”
The tension between the two of you was thick, it had been for a few months now but nothing had come of it. The two of you danced around each other and your obvious feelings, Rebekah would tease you about it, often remarking on how you could do better than her brother.
Just as his lips were about to brush against yours he pulled back, “Darling…”
“Yes, Kol?”
“The iron.”
Your eyes widen and you quickly turn back to the pizzelle iron, standing up from your chair, opening it quickly, coughing a bit as the smoke hits you directly in the face. You use the tongs to toss the burnt cookies onto the cooling rack as Kol doubles over in laughter.
You glare at him, before letting out a small laugh, “You distracted me! This is your fault!”
He smirks, standing up to his full height, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close, “I’m a distraction?”
“Yes… you are.”
He presses a kiss to your temple and hums, “Too bad you’re stuck with me…”
You pull away a bit to look up at him, “You think?”
Kol stares at you, debating internally about what to say, “I think… no, I know,” he takes a deep breath, “…that I have completely fallen in love with you, Y/N Salvatore…”
A smile appears on your face, “Well I know that I am utterly in love with you as well, Kol Mikaelson…”
He smiles before capturing your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. The arm around your waist tightens, he pulls you impossibly close and you loop your arms around his neck.
A low whistle followed by clapping causes the two of you to break apart, Kol didn’t let you get too far though, still keeping his hand on your waist.
“Took you long enough,” Klaus smirks.
You cover your face with your face with your hands, completely embarrassed but Kol just seems annoyed by the interruption.
“Is there something you need Nik?” Kol asks, rolling his eyes.
“I was just wondering what that burning smell was, wouldn’t want our lovely home to burn down. But I see now our little baker was just… preoccupied…”
“Rebekah!” Klaus shouts, causing your eyes to widen.
“Nik no!” you retort, peaking through your fingers, but you knew it was too late.
“What the bloody hell do you want now?” Rebekah asks as she walks into the room.
Klaus smirks and then gestures towards you and Kol by tilting his head. Rebekah immediately notices the hand around your waist and gasps.
“Finally! I thought you two would be dancing around each other forever!” she squeals.
“What is all this shouting about?” Elijah asks, entering the room while adjusting his cufflinks.
Kol pinches the bridge of his nose before leaning over to whisper to you, fully aware his siblings could still hear him, “It’s like they all come out of the woodwork at the most inopportune times…”
Elijah spots the cooling racks of pizzelles and makes his way over, immediately picking up one of the burnt cookies. He holds it up and raises a brow at you, waiting for an answer.
Klaus begins to cackle, speeding over to Elijah to take the charred cookie from him, “Brother, Y/N got distracted…” he points at Kol, “the distraction.”
Elijah lets out a little chuckle, clearly amused, “Yes, well, try not to get distracted in the kitchen… we eat in here.”
1872
New Orleans
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Kol holds your face in his hands.
“More than anything… I want to be with you.”
Kol chuckles, “My darling, you’re already with me, you already have me.”
He takes your hands and places them over his heart, “This dead heart belongs to you.”
You giggle a bit at his words and he smiles before frowning, “I just… I don’t want you to think you have to do this for me…”
You smile softly, “I know, but this is what I want, I promise…”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve already had my witches make you a ring… a gorgeous ring for a gorgeous girl, my gorgeous girl…”
You giggle again and pull him in for a kiss which he quickly reciprocates. After a moment he forces himself to pull away. He scoots til his back is against the headboard then pulls you so you’re sitting with your back against his chest.
Kol brings his wrist to his mouth, fangs protruding and bites into his own flesh before holding his wrist near your mouth for you to take. Both your hands grab onto him, pulling his wrist as close to your mouth as physically possible and begin to drink from him.
He groans at the sensation and brushes some of the hair from your face, “Atta girl… that’s it… just a little more… good…”
When Kol decides you’ve had enough he pulls away, chuckling at the way you try to follow his now healing wrist, “My, my, already so bloodthirsty…”
You look up at him and pout, some of his blood dripping from your lips. He could get used to sight of you and blood, his two favorite things, together. He gives you another kiss, tasting his own blood from your mouth.
Pulling back, he sighs, “This is the part I don’t like.”
You lean up and kiss his cheek, “You’re the only one I’d trust to do this… it’s okay, my love, it’s what I want.”
Reluctantly, Kol brings his hand up to your neck, “I love you, my darling.”
“I love you… now please, kill me.”
He winces at the sound of your neck breaking, squeezing his eyes shut. He lays in your bed, holding your body, brushing the hair from your face while softly humming until you wake up.
Present Day
Mystic Falls
You stare at your daylight ring, spinning it on your finger.
“Y/N… Y/N… Y/N!” Damon snaps his fingers in front of your face to gain your attention.
You jump and look at him and then at Stefan, now noticing that Elena left.
“Are you alright?” Stefan asks, tilting his head.
“I’m fine… just… lost in thought.”
Damon’s gaze stays focused on your ring, “Is that your daylight ring?”
You hum, looking up at him and then at Stefan, before holding your hand up to show off the ring, “I know, it’s not nearly as gaudy as yours.”
Stefan chuckles but Damon narrows his eyes, “It’s not a wedding ring,” he notes.
“No…” you state but it sounds more like a question.
“So the guy can ask you to die and be forced to drink blood for the rest of eternity but he can’t get down on one knee and pop the question?”
“Damon…” Stefan sighs, they had just gotten you back and he was worried that all of Damon’s passive aggressive comments were going to drive you away again.
You scoff, “He didn’t ask me to do anything, it was my choice. I wanted this. We… we didn’t need to be married to be in love… it just wasn’t the right time for a wedding anyways…”
Stefan seems a little shocked, “You asked him to turn you?”
Before you can respond to Stefan, Damon interrupts, “This was your first boyfriend?”
“He was my first everything,” you state matter-of-factly.
Both Stefan and Damon groan in disgust at your words and the implication of them.
You roll your eyes, “Oh grow up.”
Stefan stands up, “And on that note, I’m going to school… make sure Elena’s okay…”
You fake pout, “You don’t wanna hang out with your sister after not seeing her for so long?”
“That’s not—“
You cut him off, “Relax Stef, I’m kidding. Go.”
He gives you a curt nod and heads out of the room, leaving you alone with Rose and Damon. You almost forgot Rose was here, she had been quiet ever since she had finished her speech about Klaus. Damon gives Rose a look and she nods, leaving the room.
“I thought you hated vampires,” Damon states, taking the spot on the couch where Stefan once was.
“I did… until I met him.” Them.
Damon stays quiet for a moment, his eyes soften a bit, “This guy must have been special.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, “He was… I really loved him, Damon. I really do still love him…”
Your brother sighs, scooching closer to you on the couch. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you to him.
“I am happy to have you back, you know… it’s just… you’re not the same kid I left behind, you’ve grown so much, to me you’re still the little girl whose hair I used to braid…”
“It’s okay, Day… I get it… I do,” you smile, using the nickname you used to call him as a child.
He ruffles your hair, “Why don’t we go out, I’ll show you around town… it’s practically the same, just modern.”
“I… uhm…” you sigh, “I’m tired to be honest, I traveled a long way to get here… and I think all the ‘excitement’ just made me even more tired…”
He nods, “Alright, I’m assuming you want your same room, you remember where it is?”
You stand up from the couch, “How could I forget?”
You leave Damon on the couch, making your way to the stairs. You take note of Rose who was standing near the kitchen doorway, she had clearly been listening to your conversation. There was no such thing as privacy with vampires.
Your room was exactly as you had left it, you could tell that no one had even entered the room in years. If you had to guess, you’d say that the last ones to enter were Klaus and Elijah— they had also retrieved your favorite teddy bear on their mission to get the cook book. There was dust floating around and cobwebs everywhere. You let out a sigh just as Damon makes his way up the stairs to you, he must have remembered the state of your room.
“No one’s been in there since…”
“I know,” you cut him off.
“We didn’t want to disturb it…”
You sigh, “Can I just… have another room for now?”
He nods and leads you down the hall to one of the guest rooms that had been maintained over the years, “I can get you extra blankets? Extra pillows?”
You shake your head, walking further into the room and sit on the bed, “This is fine.”
”Alright, well, I’ll let you sleep,” as he’s about to leave, his hand goes to the light switch to turn it off.
In a second, you’re off of the bed. You grab his hand causing him to groan in pain, you were sure you broke fingers but you didn’t care. You couldn’t let him turn off the light.
“Ow!”
You let go after a second, “I… I’m sorry…” you mumble.
“Jesus! If you didn’t want it off you could have said that!” he waves his hand around, wincing as his fingers snap themselves back into place.
You just blink at him, and he sighs, “Just get some rest.”
He reaches for the door this time, you grab it as it’s about to close and he stops, “Yeah?”
“Don’t close the door.”
Damon raises a brow, “You want the light on and the door open?”
You nod, “Please…”
“You can sleep like that?”
“It’s the only way I can sleep.”
Damon goes to open his mouth, but quickly shuts it, deciding that for once in his life he should just be quiet. He nods and leaves it at that, you let out of a sigh when goes, dropping down onto the guest bed.
You want to close your eyes but you can’t. It’s too dark.
Stefan eventually returns and finds Damon sipping on bourbon as usual.
“Our sister is strange,” Damon announces the second Stefan steps foot in the door.
Stefan sighs, “Alright, I’ll bite. What happened?”
Damon sets down his glass, “She’s upstairs, sleeping.”
“Okay?”
“With the door open, the curtains open, and the light on.”
“Damon, just leave it alone.”
The older Salvatore scoffs, “Come on Stefan, that’s weird.”
Stefan shrugs, “I didn’t say it wasn’t. I just said to leave it alone. We just got her back, literally today and if you keep pushing like you always do, you’re going to push her away. Again.”
“Don’t act like this is all on me. We both pushed her away… pushed her right into the arms of some scummy vampire and now she’s stuck like us. Well, at least it sounds like she actually got to make that choice.”
“I thought we were past that,” Stefan lets out a humourless chuckle.
“We’ll never be past that.”
“I was just joking before about you two constantly fighting…” you mumble as you walk down the stairs.
Damon smirks, “Stefan loves to bicker.”
You raise a brow, “So it’s only Stefan then?”
You swiftly make your way across the room to the bourbon and grab a glass, you turn to Damon, “May I?”
“Knock yourself out.”
Humming, you pour yourself a glass, looking at Damon over the rim of the cup, “You and Rose woke me up earlier, safe to say I’m disgusted…” This was a lie, you never fell asleep in the first place.
Damon rolls his eyes, “Now who needs to grow up?”
Stefan sighs and takes that as his que to cut in, “You sleep well? Besides that…”
You take a sip of the alcohol before responding, “Like a baby.”
Another lie, you hadn’t slept ‘like a baby’ since 1914.
1914
New Orleans
“He’ll never let us leave, he’ll never let us be happy.” Kol holds you tightly in his arms, “This is the only way…” he pulls back to hold your face in his hands, “I’ll find the diamond, my witches will do what we need, and then we will leave this place, my love. I want to show you the world, just as you wish but we can’t do that with him looming over us.”
You swallow, “I am tired of watching him hurt you… all of you.”
“And I do not want him to ever hurt you.“
Klaus had been a friend to you over the years but the one thing you disagreed on was how he handled his siblings. It broke your heart to watch any of them be daggered and put away in those wretched boxes for however long he deemed necessary. It drove a rift in between the two of you and you knew Kol was right, with how tightly of a leash Klaus kept on Kol, it was only a matter of time before Klaus saw Kol as a threat and daggered him again.
Besides, it wouldn’t be killing Nik. It would just be giving him a taste of his own medicine for once.
“Okay…”
“Okay?”
You nod and Kol lets out a small chuckle, half smiling at you, he presses his lips to yours.
Pulling back, he looks you up and down, “All you have to do is look pretty, which is an easy task for you considering you always look gorgeous.”
He takes your hand and has you do a twirl, admiring the way your dress moves as you spin, “Absolutely stunning.”
You roll your eyes, giggling as he spins you right into his arms, “Always such a charmer.”
“Only for you…” he presses a kiss to your head, “You head down to the party I’ll be right there.”
You hum, connecting your lips one last time before heading downstairs, blending into the crowd around you. Soon after, Kol would make his way downstairs, he snuck up behind you, placing his hands on your hips and whispering into your ear.
“Rebekah knows but do not fret… she’s going to help us.”
Only she wouldn’t, Rebekah ran straight to Klaus and told him everything.
All of you were currently on the stairs, posed for a family photograph. Kol had his arm wrapped securely around your waist when Klaus raised his glass, taping the side of it with a knife to attract the attention of everyone in the room. He starts by thanking those invited for attending but then makes a special toast to Rebekah.
He looks at you and Kol while speaking, “It is especially gratifying in times when treachery runs deep to know you have someone you can trust…” he turns back to face Rebekah, smiling at her, “A toast, to you, my sister.”
Kol tenses, the two of you share a look and quickly begin to make your way up the stairs. You make it to the top of the stairs before Kol does and just as he’s about to join you, Elijah speeds in front of him. Elijah grabs Kol’s arms, successfully detaining him as Klaus slowly walks up the stairs. You’re frozen in place, unsure what to do and Kol looks at you. He knows this will be the last time he sees you for a very long time so he decides to commit your features to memory. He regrets not asking you for a dance earlier.
“Ladies and gentlemen! I do apologize for the disturbance! But, what’s a Mikaelson party without a little squabble…?” He reveals a silver dagger.
“Y/N run!” Kol shouts and you listen.
You rush away making Klaus sigh, looking at Rebekah over his shoulder, “Catch her,” he commands.
Kol looks at his sister, a pleading look in his eyes as he struggles in Elijah’s hold— watching her run after you, knowing that it would be near impossible for you to outrun her.
You hear Kol’s pained scream as Klaus shoves the dagger into his heart, trying to fight your tears as you run. You were outside when Rebekah caught you, slamming you into the wall.
“Bekah please…”
Her eyes scan your face, your fear, your grief, and she loosens her hold, “I have never had a true friend until you, Y/N… please… forgive me for what I am about to do.”
Rebekah takes your face in her hands, staring into your eyes and you begin to panic, knowing what is about to happen.
“You promised you’d never do that! All of you did! That you’d never take my choice away!” you fight against her.
“Look at me,” her voice becomes hypnotic and you find yourself unable to look away from her eyes, “You’re going to forget Kol, you’re going to forget that you were ever in love with him. You’ve never even heard his name. You are going to forget all about Elijah and… me. All you will know regarding the Mikaelson family is that you have to keep running from Klaus. You don’t stop, you don’t stay in one place for long, you keep running.”
Your eyes have completely glazed over, pupils dilated, “I keep running from Klaus…”
Rebekah pulls back from you, staring at you as your eyes go back to normal, “Y/N?”
“I… I’m sorry, do I know you? I… nevermind that I need to get going, I’m sorry again,” you say, walking past her before using your speed to get farther away.
Rebekah lets out a shaky breath, knowing that Klaus will not believe that you were able to outrun her. She brings her own hands to her neck and snaps it, falling to the ground.
Maybe he’d believe that.
Present Day
Mystic Falls
A few days had passed since your arrival in Mystic Falls, while everything had seemingly calmed down a bit, there was still the looming presence of Klaus.
You had been briefly involved with their plan of getting the moonstone from Katherine, you knew it wouldn’t do them any good and it was clear they were grasping at straws to try and save the doppelgängers life. After contacting him, he told you to just continue on as is so you wouldn’t raise suspicion. You had witnessed Elena’s attempt at a self-sacrifice play, which she failed at terribly due to your brother's intervention… and Elijah’s.
Damon was incredibly annoyed when he found out Elijah was still alive. And after a lot of back and forth and changing of plans, you managed to convince Damon to let you accompany him to the bar to confront Jules. You refused to be on babysitting duty with Jeremy.
You made it your mission to avoid Elijah, knowing that if you saw him you’d end up telling Klaus in fear of him interfering with their plan. You already knew that Elena and her group of friends would try to interfere but you could handle them - you had plans. Caroline was meant to be the vampire… but you had plenty of options for a vampire, maybe even your own brothers. Tyler Lockwood was a werewolf, but you needed a backup, which is the whole reason you went to the bar with Damon. You wanted to get an idea about Jules so that it would be easier to get her.
Jules was smart, she wouldn’t drink the wolfsbane and she instantly knew what you and Damon were. That wouldn’t matter, you knew when it came down to it - you’d be able to capture her with ease. You backed down from the argument, not wanting to fight in the middle of the bar but Damon didn’t. He kept pushing just like he always did.
That brought you to where you were now, back at the boarding house with Damon and Rose. The two were clearly having a moment so you decided to take a step back into the living room. Just as you do, a large wolf jumps through the window, slamming you into the ground. You hold its jaw, pushing its mouth away from you in fear of being bit.
“Damon!” you shriek, “A little help would be nice!”
Damon goes to the fireplace mantel, picking up a sword, taking a swing at the wolf. It lets out a pained sound and releases you- now going to attack Damon. Before it’s able to turn your brother into a chew toy, Rose jumps in front of him, taking the brunt of the attack. The werewolf sinks its teeth into her shoulder, infecting her with its deadly bite.
Your brother slashes the wolf once more and it takes off into the night, knowing it wouldn’t survive another hit from the blade. You let out a sigh of relief, turning to look at Damon and Rose.
“How bad is it?” Damon asks Rose, helping her off the ground to examine the bite.
“It hurts…” Rose whimpers.
You frown, already knowing what is going to happen, you knew of the false hope that she would get.
Damon’s eyes widen, “It’s healing!”
Rose tilts her head to look at her shoulder better, “Oh my God… I thought a werewolf bite was fatal!”
‘It is’ you want to say, to warn her of what is going to happen about how she’ll lose her mind. But you stay silent.
“I thought…” tears fill Rose’s eyes and Damon pulls her into his arms.
“You’re going to be okay…” he reassures her, giving you a look.
You press your lips together, nodding, leaving the room to give them their moment once more. Allowing them to live in a fantasy where Rose would be okay.
You made the decision to disappear for a few days, leaving your brothers and Elena to deal with Rose. Both of them left numerous messages on your phone.
“This is what? Call two hundred and twenty four? You’re really not going to answer them?” Klaus muses.
You sigh, shaking your head, “No. I’m not. They just want help with Rose… I don’t… I don’t want to see her like that, losing her mind… I’ve seen that happen too many times before.”
Klaus hums, “Let me guess, you’re going to ask for my blood to heal her?”
“No,” you shake your head, “She needs to die, she knows too much about you and your family, she’s a threat… besides she’s probably dead now.”
“Our family,” Klaus corrects.
You continue, ignoring him, “I just thought she’d die with a stake in her heart not from going insane.”
“Still sensitive.”
You choose to ignore his comment once again, playing the latest voicemail left by Stefan.
“Y/N, I don’t know where you are or why you left… I’m worried though… about you, about Elena… I miss you… can you please come home? Listen, Rose is dead and Damon is doing what he does best— deflecting. He’s got this new girl… Andie Star I think? I- I don’t know what happened that night, maybe you got bit too? I really hope not… Maybe you got scared… you ran… just please at least call me if you’re not going to come home… I need to know you’re okay. I love you.”
“I presume you’re going back now?”
You nod and Klaus smirks, “Excellent… I’ll be making my appearance soon.”
By time you arrived back in Mystic Falls, Elijah had been ‘dealt with’ as Damon put it. That made you anxious, you doubted they had found a white oak stake but the only alternative was a dagger, and that thought made your stomach churn.
Leaving had fractured the trust you built between your brothers, you knew it would but that was fine with you. The less you knew regarding Elijah, the better. You told them the truth, that you knew Rose was going to die - painfully and out of her mind. Damon was angry that you didn’t tell them and Stefan understood.
There was also the little fact that Katherine had been released of her compulsion. You had to admit, you were a tad anxious she’d find a way to Klaus and find out about your deal. If she ratted you out to Stefan and Damon, every part of your perfectly calculated plan would be ruined. Hopefully, Klaus would be enough to distract your brothers from you so they wouldn’t get too suspicious.
It was no secret that Niklaus Mikaelson liked making an entrance and being as you were currently not getting all the intel since they still didn’t trust you fully— Klaus decided to use one of his favorite tricks which you suggested. Body possession.
On the night of the school dance, Klaus possessed Alaric's body, revealing himself to Bonnie and Elena with dramatic flair and then he killed the Benett witch— at least that’s what you two thought.
The truth of Bonnie’s fate would be revealed on the night of the ritual when she showed up to kill Klaus with the help of Elijah.
Elijah had dug his hand into Klaus’ chest and you had no idea what to do. You couldn’t fight Elijah, that was one fight you’d certainly lose, not to mention Bonnie and all of the others being there, they’d stop you before you could lay a hand on him.
Klaus looked at you, silencing your fears with one glance before looking back to Elijah and confessing the truth, “I didn’t bury them at sea.”
His gaze flickered to you and Elijah looked to where his brother was, he hadn’t seen you in so long but still, he trusted you, so when you nod your head ever so slightly… he believes Klaus.
Two days had passed since the ritual and Klaus was now a hybrid. You had spent those two days following Elijah through the woods, cleaning up Klaus’ mess.
In fact, that’s where you currently are. It had been practically silent between the two of you, neither of you wanting to start the conversation, after all it had been nearly a hundred years. That was until you decided to open your mouth after arriving at another camp that had been ripped apart.
You move a body and scoff, “He’s not even draining them. He’s killing for sport.”
Elijah hums, “You sound shocked, you should know by now this behavior is expected of Niklaus.”
“He’s wasting perfectly good snacks,” you grumble as you throw the body to Elijah who catches it with ease.
“You’re thirsty?”
“No, Elijah, I’m annoyed,” you throw your hands up, walking closer to him, “It’s been two days since the full moon, why is he still a wolf?”
“I don’t have the answer to that.”
“Okay, well, what if he’s stuck as a wolf? Hm? Then what? We’re going to put him on a leash and have him lead us to the coffins?”
Elijah lets out a chuckle, “While that image is amusing, I’m sure he’ll be turning back soon.”
You sigh and go back to cleaning up the bodies in silence, when you’re done you both continue to follow the trail that Klaus was leaving behind, you had no doubt you’d soon run into more bodies.
“What have you been up to for the past century?” Elijah asks, walking so close that your arms brush against each other.
You come to a stop, and it takes Elijah a moment to stop and turn back, looking at you slightly confused.
“Are you serious? I was trapped, Elijah, and when I wasn’t trapped I was running from him,” you jab your finger into his chest, “from you.”
Elijah looks down at you, a frown on his face, “I haven’t been doing Niklaus’ bidding since he said he dropped all of them into the ocean… he implied that he had found you as well… that you were gone… I never did want to hurt you, Y/N.”
“Well it didn’t seem that way to me. I didn’t know that. I’ve spent the last century looking over my shoulder, not staying anywhere for more than a moment because I knew that no matter where I went, you, or him, or some minion of his would be waiting. And when I wasn’t running I was trapped… there… all alone…”
“Y/N—“
“I know what we did was unforgivable,” you say, taking a step away from him to continue following the trail and he follows, “but what he had planned for me was just cruel…”
“If it’s any consolation, none of us agreed with Niklaus’ ‘gift’.”
You let out a humorless laugh, “Is that what he called it?”
“Yes, it was intended to be given to you for your engagement… obviously you were shown sooner than intended… it was his disturbed way of welcoming you into the family officially.”
Your brows furrow, “What engagement?”
Elijah stops, seemingly realizing his mistake, “I apologize, I thought you knew… Kol…”
You stop and turn to him, “He was going to propose?” your voice breaks a bit as you will away your tears.
Elijah sighs, stopping to face you, “He had rings, new daylight rings… I do not know much of how he planned to propose, just that he planned to do it after the new year… You two had been together for so long I assume he thought it was time to ask…”
You blink a few times, before clearing your throat, “Let’s just find Klaus.”
He nods, continuing to follow the path, he can practically feel the emotions rolling off of you. Grief, sadness, anger, and even jealousy. Then there was the look on your face, the look of heartbreak. Even after all these years, he still hated to see you like this. He would always feel guilty, after all, he was the first one you met, the one who introduced you to everyone. He would forever feel at least somewhat responsible for your pain.
1869
New Orleans
It had been five years, nearly six since you ran from home, since your brothers were killed, and you were still having a hard time settling down. You found yourself in New Orleans, you loved everything about it, but there was one problem. It was hard to find work as a woman and even harder as a seventeen year old so you adapted to stealing.
You would wait by stands or alleyways and wait for the perfect target, you’d typically go for men who held their heads high as if they owned the world. Men who were so well dressed that you knew they had money to spare. Sometimes you’d even hang out near bars to find men stumbling around, too drunk to notice you taking their entire wallet.
It was late now, you were leaning against a wall when you saw him. A rather attractive man dressed in a fancy suit, you had no doubt that it had been tailor fitted to him. He begins to walk down the street, walking right past you, seemingly not noticing you. There weren’t as many people out now, normally you’d use the strangers during the day as cover but this man clearly had too much money for his good, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity.
As quietly as possible, you push yourself off the wall and follow behind him. You smirk when you see his wallet in his back pocket but just as your fingers graze what you assume is real leather, his hand snatches your wrist.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, dangerous.
You curse yourself for being so reckless. You swallow your pride and decide to try and flirt your way out. Men with the kind of money you knew he had, always enjoyed being flirted with, it boosts their already over-inflated egos.
You giggle while leaning a bit closer, “You’re even more handsome up close…”
He chuckles, “Is that so?”
“And this suit… it fits you so well…” you brush your hand along his chest.
“That’s very flattering…” he smiles, bringing his hand up to cup yours.
Hook. Line. Sinker. You had him.
“But I know what you’re doing.”
You did not have him.
Your smile fades away and you pull back from him. This had never happened before, most of the men were too dumb to figure it out (at least until they got home and found their wallets missing), it was just your luck that you’d try and rob the only smart guy around.
“How old are you?” He looks you up and down.
You gulp, “Seventeen, sir.”
He pulls his wallet from his pocket and holds it out to you, “Take it.”
“What?”
“Take it, you want my wallet? Take it.”
With shaky hands, you reach for the wallet, it was embarrassing being caught like this but you needed the money.
“Thank you…” you trail off, realizing you hadn’t learned his name.
“Elijah Mikaelson.”
Your eyes widen at the name, you had heard of the Mikaelsons before. A rich, powerful family and there were whispers all around that they were the thing you hated most. Vampires.
He smirks at your reaction, “And you are?”
“Y/N.”
He nods and smiles but it quickly fades when he glances at his watch, “Well, Miss Y/N do try to stay safe… you never know who or what may be lurking in these streets, especially at this time of night.”
And just like that, he was gone. The next time you saw him was after the new year when he pulled a newly turned vampire off of you. You saw him a third time when this exact thing happened again, you didn’t know why but you it seemed you were practically vampire bait.
After these two incidents, Elijah decided it wasn't safe for you to be on the streets any longer and invited you to come stay with him for some time before he could find something more permanent. An idea you were not so eager about when he confirmed that he and his family were in fact, vampires. But you couldn’t pass up the offer when he was offering you an actual bed to sleep in and numerous necessities. Little did either of you know that the compound would become your permanent home.
Present Day
Mystic Falls
After your conversation you had fallen behind Elijah, walking slower to keep the distance. When he called out that he had found him, you hardly even picked up the pace.
“You’ve been busy…” Elijah remarks, leaning on a tree.
“That was… amazing.” You hear Klaus’ voice before you see him.
And when you do see him you groan, spinning around and closing your eyes, “You could have told me he was naked.”
“Did you think I was carrying around his clothes these past two days for fun?” Elijah raises a brow.
“It’s been two days?” Klaus asks, you can hear him shuffling around while getting dressed.
“Full moon came and went. You remained a wolf.” Elijah states but it’s more of a question.
“I can change at will then, that’s good to know.”
Klaus smiles and then chuckles, “I remember… every single kill.”
“Yes, we’ve been cleaning up your little mess along the way.” Elijah gestures between the two of you.
“Just like old times then.”
Elijah hums, and pushes off the tree, handing Klaus his boots, “Well, you’ve had your fun. I believe we have a bargain.”
“That’s right!” Klaus exclaims, leaning down to put on his boots, “Now what was it again? Oh yeah, wait, I remember, that’s it! You wish to be reunited with our family!”
“And you!” he shouts towards you, “You want your precious Kol back…”
You turn around, finally facing him, pleased to see that he has put his pants on. You want to say something but hold your tongue, there was a time where you weren’t afraid of him but now it felt that if you even stepped a toe out of line he’d hunt you down.
Elijah brushes off Klaus’ jacket, “You gave me your word, Niklaus.”
Klaus smiles, cheekily, “And what kind of brother would I be if I broke my bond… even if you did try and kill me.”
You sigh, and Elijah holds out Klaus’ jacket for him to put on, “I could have… but I didn’t.”
Klaus puts on his jacket and fixes the collar, “And now no one can,” he turns to face Elijah, “Relax, Elijah, all is forgiven.”
He smiles at you, “That applies to you as well, love. You have more than proved yourself loyal.”
“Where are they?” Elijah cuts in.
Klaus grins, patting his brother's arm, “You need to lighten up… I’ll bring you to them soon enough.”
He walks ahead of you and Elijah, the two of you sharing a look before you scoff and follow after the hybrid. He ends up taking you to Alaric's apartment, you feel a pit in your stomach knowing that Katherine is going to be there but you do your best to push it away.
“Look who decided to come for a visit.” Katherine gestures to Stefan as you, Klaus, and Elijah enter the apartment.
“I need your help.” Stefan states, his eyes flickering to you, wondering why the hell you’re with them, there was no way for you to know what had happened to Damon so that couldn’t be it.
Elijah shuts the door, and Stefan steps closer, “For my brother.” he then looks at you, “our brother.”
Klaus clicks his tongue, “Oh well, whatever it is, it’s going to have to wait a tick. You see, I have an obligation to my brother.” he points at Elijah. “And your sister…” he points at you.
“It requires my immediate attention.” Klaus brushes past Stefan.
You hug yourself, feeling anxious of the entire situation, it was bad enough that Katherine was here and now Stefan was too.
“You understand how important family is or you wouldn’t be here.” Elijah walks a bit closer to Stefan, “My brother gave me his word that he would reunite me with my family.”
“And so I shall.” Klaus speaks from behind Elijah, Elijah spins around to face his brother but it is too late, Klaus shoves a dagger through his heart.
You feel frozen when Elijah screams, tears begin to fill your eyes, you know what is about to come and there's no point in running because he’d just catch you. Rebekah wasn’t here this time to buy you time.
His body drops to the ground with a sickening thud, his skin completely grey and you knew you would not get the privilege of a quick death.
Klaus smiles at you and the tears begin to fall from your eyes.
“Please! I- I didn’t know about Elijah’s plan! I didn’t even know he was here! I only heard rumors! I swear! You said it yourself, Klaus- I’m loyal! I’ve proved it!”
Klaus shushes you and walks closer, your body doesn’t move, you’re rooted in your spot. He brings his hand up to hold your cheek and brushes a tear away, you shudder at the touch, letting out a sob.
“Loyal…?” Stefan questions, the floorboards creaking when he steps forward.
Klaus’ gaze immediately snaps to your brother, “Another step and I’ll rip her heart out.”
“She’s my sister-“
“All the more reason for you to stay put, Stefan.”
The two stare at each other for a moment before Stefan steps back. Klaus smirks, turning back to you. You tense up when he rests his hand on your neck, another sob wracks through your body.
“Don’t do this… I did what you asked! I found the doppelgänger! I found Elena! I called you as soon as I found her! Sure- Katherine found the werewolf but I made sure you had the backup one! And you needed the backup one! And- and using Alaric was my idea! I came up with that, it was perfect! You thought it was hilarious! I’ve helped you!”
Stefan’s brow furrows at your admission, his voice barely audible as he connects the dots, “You’re the reason he’s here… that’s… that’s why you came back to Mystic Falls to find us… not because you missed us, but because you’re helping him…”
You don’t bother to look over to your brother, you felt bad for betraying his trust, for lying to him but he could never understand, you don’t say anything, it wouldn’t matter now.
You look up at Klaus with tears staining your cheeks, “I did everything right!” your voice falls to a whisper, “Don’t make me go back there, it’s dark, Nik, I hate the dark…”
“You know, I considered you family once, I treated you as such.”
“Please Nikkie… you gave me your word…I just want him back, you promised me!”
“Oh love…” Klaus brings his hand up to brush some of the hair from your face, “You have me confused with Elijah…”
In a split second his hand falls to your neck, the sound of it snapping fills the room and he drops your body on the ground, discarding you.
Klaus turns back to Stefan who looks devastated by the news, “Don’t look so glum Stefan, you wouldn’t be the first to be tricked by your sister. She’d do anything to survive, even if it meant betraying those closest to her,” he glances at Katherine, noting the similarities.
He shakes his head, looking back at Stefan, “But that’s a story for another day…”
Klaus speeds forward, slamming Stefan into the wall, “Now… what am I going to do with you?”
Present Day
Chicago
“My sister? She knew you? All of you?”
Klaus approaches the coffins, “If you can’t handle it, don’t ask.”
Stefan looks at all of the coffins but two of them catch his attention, they’re away from the rest, almost like they’ve been isolated. One of the coffins is made of some sort of metal and they both have engravings on them that compliment each other.
Klaus notices his gaze and smirks, “I see you’ve spotted the lovers.”
“the lovers?” Stefan raises a brow.
His smirk deepens, he steps away from Rebekah’s coffin and to the others, he opens one of them, revealing a boy in clothing from the the early 1900s.
Stefan looks over the boy, completely confused he turns to Klaus who grins.
“You wouldn’t recognize him… you never had the pleasure of meeting Kol…” he brushes his hand over the engraving on the other one, “You’d recognize whose in this one though…”
Klaus could see the gears turning in Stefan’s head, his eyes widening as he pieced the puzzle together.
“My sister?” his voice breaks a bit.
Klaus laughs, “You always were quick, Ripper.”
“This is what you meant by family? You got her a coffin and a dagger? That’s family to you?”
The hybrid clicks his tongue a few times, wagging his finger, “No Stefan, I got her a coffin… I never said anything about a dagger.”
Stefan’s heart sinks at the new information, it all hit him at once, why you hated the dark, why you had to have the door open, why couldn’t stand to be in silence.
You didn’t get a century long sleep like Klaus’ siblings would, you got to lay there and rot, slowly and painfully, all alone.
“I had a witch make it, it’s spelled… only I can open it.” Klaus boasts, clearly proud of his work.
“That’s cruel, even for you.”
“Maybe so, but I must punish those who betray me accordingly.”
Klaus takes a step closer to Stefan, “You met Rebekah and I in 1920… but we did not meet by chance. I sought you out, I was looking for your sister… The girl can really run when she wants to. I was hoping you’d be able to help me find her, but you were too busy draining civilians, Ripper.”
“I wouldn’t have been helpful either way. I thought she was dead.”
“I’m aware… I thought that she’d maybe be nearby, watching, that was something she often did— check up on you and Damon. Regardless, I found her on my own in 1924.”
1924
London
Today marks four years since Rebekah’s compulsion had worn off which meant one of two things, she was dead (unlikely) or she had been daggered (very likely).
It had been four years since you remembered Kol and ten years that you had been running. You were tired, tired of running, tired of having to look over your shoulder every five seconds, tired of not having your beloved around.
Klaus was hunting you and you had done a damn good job at keeping him off of your trail, always being careful when finding a snack and making sure you were never in one place for too long.
So you decided to do the opposite, you had been in London for two weeks now, ripping through crowds of people with no remorse. You wanted Klaus to find you, you wanted him to kill you.
You’re currently in a bar full of people, well, dead people. You slaughtered everyone and now had your teeth buried in some man’s neck.
“Perhaps you’re more like Stefan than I thought.” Klaus’ voice fills the bar.
Reluctantly, you pull yourself off of the now dead, drained man. You look at Klaus with blood coating your face and staining your dress.
After staring at each other for a moment, you stand to your full height, Klaus gives you a once over before raising a brow.
“You’ve gotten sloppy, left a trail of bodies a mile long leading me right to you.”
You simply stare at him and he smirks, “You wanted to be found.”
“I can’t do this anymore… not without him. I‘m tired, Nik. Please, just end it.”
Niklaus clicks his tongue, “End it?” He takes a step towards you.
“Kill me.”
Klaus laughs, “You think I want to kill you?”
Your brows furrow and you take a step back from the hybrid, Klaus snaps his fingers and two men enter the room carrying a coffin.
You take another step back, eyes widening and Klaus grins, “You can try to run but you won’t get far…”
“No… you… you can’t dagger me…”
“You’re right, daggers are such trivial things to make… you would know after all. But a lockbox that only I can open, now that’s much simpler.”
You decide to risk it, attempting to speed away but he catches you in a second, holding you up in the air by your throat.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be back with him soon enough… consider this me officially welcoming you into the family.”
Present Day
Chicago
“What was the point of letting her out just to lock her back up? To be cruel?”
Klaus shrugs, “I was bored and decided to make her a deal in 1984.”
“1984? You kept her in there for…”
“Sixty years, Stefan. She betrayed me and those were the consequences. When I woke her up we made an agreement.”
“What kind of agreement?”
“She’d find me Katherine and bring her to me. She couldn’t ever find Katherine but she found me something even better…”
“Elena…”
“Yes, the doppelgänger.”
“So she knew the truth about your curse? That you’re a hybrid?”
“She was my family once, lived with us for nearly half a century. She knows a lot more than she led you all to believe. But don’t get any ideas, she’d never tell you anything that could hurt us… she wouldn’t risk Kol or Rebekah getting caught in the crossfire… or Elijah, though I suppose she’d be alright losing me considering she attempted to do so herself.”
“Moving on!” Klaus chirps, moving back to Rebekah, “It’s time for my little sister to wake up…”
“And I knew her?” Stefan asks, looking into the now open coffin, “I don’t recognize her.”
“Well don’t tell her that,” Klaus muses, “Rebekah’s temper is worse than mine.”
He pulls the dagger out, waiting for a moment before sighing, “Any Day now, Rebekah… she’s being dramatic.”
Present Day
Mystic Falls
It had been months since Klaus had locked you away. You were a bit surprised when he came to free you, your bones creaked, skin practically gray… still, you weren’t nearly as desiccated as the last time you had been in that coffin.
He fed you blood and brushed your hair for you as if you were a doll then provided you with a white colored dress that went to your knees, it reminded you of the one Elijah had given you when you first arrived in their home.
When Klaus revealed he was hosting a dinner with Elijah for Stefan and Damon you realized what he was doing. You were a bargaining chip.
You sat in the living room, humming to yourself, waiting for them to arrive. You still felt weak from not having blood for so long and the fact you were shaking was proof of that, the little blood that Klaus had provided was not enough.
Soon enough, your brothers arrived and were let inside by Elijah, “Niklaus, our guests have arrived…”
“Damon… Stefan…” Klaus greets, standing by the head of the dining room table, “Elijah tells me you seek an audience… very bold. Let’s discuss the terms of our agreement like civilized men, shall we?” he gestures to the large table that was set for five.
“It’s better to indulge him,” Elijah states, moving past your brothers.
“I didn’t come here to eat Klaus,” Stefan narrows his eyes, taking a step down the stairs, “I didn’t want to come here at all… but… I was told I had to, because you’d hear us out.”
Klaus hums, “Well we can sit and eat… or I can reach down your throats and pull out your insides…” he takes his seat at the head of the table, “choice is yours…”
Your brothers decide it would be best to sit and eat. Once the four brothers had sat down, Klaus sat forward in his chair, dramatically placing his hands in front of him, “I almost forgot! Sweetheart!” he calls out, “You can come out now!”
That was your que to enter, walking through the doorway and making a beeline for the table, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Elijah stands when he sees you, pulling out your chair for you and when you sit he pushes you in.
“Y/N…” Damon says quietly, it isn’t until then that you realize he hasn’t seen you since the night of the ritual.
“Damon…” you mumble in a voice so quiet that anyone without supernatural hearing wouldn’t be able to hear you.
“How are you—“ he begins but is quickly cut off by Stefan.
“She’s practically part of their freaky family, Damon, and Klaus won’t kill his family… he’ll just torture them endlessly.”
“That’s not very nice Stefan,” Klaus clicks his tongue.
You grab the glass of wine, downing it as quickly as possible. Hoping that it will not only curb your blood cravings but also make this dinner party a little more bearable. When you finish your glass, you reach for Elijah’s.
He raises a brow, shooting you an unimpressed look, “By all means, help yourself.”
You take a sip of the wine, ignoring Elijah, “Can we please get on with this dinner… I’m starved.”
“Well at least one of you is hungry… Stefan seems to have lost his appetite,” Klaus notes, nodding his head in Stefan’s direction.
Damon glances at his brother, gesturing with his fork, “Eat. I thought we agreed we’d leave the grumpy Stefan at home.”
Reluctantly, Stefan picks up his fork making Klaus smile, “That’s the spirit. Isn’t it nice? Five of us dining together? Such a treat. Is that what you had in mind when you pulled the dagger from my brother?”
Damon smiles sarcastically, “Well, I know how he felt about you, so I figured the more the merrier,” he winks playfully at Elijah.
“Well, Elijah and I have had our share of quarrels over the centuries… but we always make it through,” Klaus takes a bite of his steak.
“Kind of like you and Rebekah, right? Where is she, by the way? Last I checked, she was still daggered because you were afraid to face her,” Stefan quips, smirking over the rim of his bourbon glass.
Damon shoots a warning look at Stefan but you can’t be bothered by their conversation, you’re too focused on your bloody steak in front of you. Savoring the small amount of blood you’d get from its juices.
“If you’re referring to the fact Rebekah knows I killed our mother, I’ve already come clean to Elijah,” Klaus smiles at Elijah who has remained silent, resting his head on top of his fist.
“Hey Stef,” Damon cuts in, grabbing everyone’s attention, “remember when you killed dad? Might want to dial down on the judgement until dessert.”
You had been fighting the urge to lick the dish clean, hoping for just another drop of that delicious, bloody flavor. But Damon’s words distract you, making you look up from the plate.
“You killed dad?” you ask, looking directly at Stefan, he doesn’t verbally answer, only narrowing his eyes at you making you hum, “I always thought it was Katherine…” you fidget with your fork, pushing it across the plate.
“You want another plate, love?” Klaus asks, his tone was sickeningly sweet, he snaps his fingers and a compelled blonde girl comes running to get your plate.
She leans over you, hair falling past her neck and you could feel the veins beneath your eyes begin to ripple. The girl's eyes widened, Klaus may have compelled her to do his bidding but he never compelled away her fear.
“Y/N,” Klaus says your name in a sing-songy tone, a warning.
Your lips part at the sound of her heart pumping, the smell of the blood in her veins, and your fangs begin to descend.
“Y/N. No,” Klaus tries again, setting his fork down.
But it was too late, you were out of your chair in a split second. You wrapped your hand around the girl’s neck, slamming her into the nearby wall hard enough to crack it, your other hand holding one of her wrists. You nearly moan at the taste of fresh blood, like an animal you can’t get enough.
Removing your hand from her neck, you flatten your palm and push the tip of her chin up until it’s out of your way— effectively breaking her neck. You continue to drink, not caring as the blood stains your mouth and neck, dripping to your dress.
Klaus sighs, “One nice dinner, that’s all I ask, is that too much to ask for?”
He rises from his chair and speeds to stand behind you, “That’s enough.”
You don’t listen and Klaus decides there is only one solution to the problem he caused, snapping your neck. Your head is practically on backwards and he allows your body to fall to the ground next to the blonde, dead girl.
Damon stands up, his chair screeching but Stefan grabs his arm, dragging him back down, and Klaus clears his throat, walking back to the table as if he hadn’t just broke your neck.
Elijah sighs, excusing himself from the table, he picks up your body with ease and brings you back to the table, setting you in your seat. He twists your head so your head is facing the proper way, hoping that it’ll allow you to heal and wake sooner. The dinner would proceed as normal, other than Damon looking at your body every few seconds, it was as if nothing had happened.
When you woke, you were alone at the table and you could hear voices coming from the living room.
“Elijah… why haven’t you left?” Klaus sounds confused.
You stand up, finding your bearings.
You can hear the smugness in Elijah’s tone when he speaks, “You’ve lectured Y/N on her manners all night… but where are yours, brother? We forgot dessert.”
You take slow steps towards the living room.
“What have you done?” Klaus’ voice is panicked, he sounds betrayed.
“What have you done?” Elijah retorts, “You see, I’ve learned not to trust your vulgar promises, Klaus. We’re doing this on my terms now.”
You’ve nearly made it to the living room door way when you stop in your tracks after hearing Klaus utter a single word.
“Kol…”
“Long time brother.”
His voice, Kol’s voice. Your Kol, he was here, he was awake.
You rush to the doorway, freezing when you finally see him. Kol, he looked the same as he did on that fateful night in 1914, still wearing the same outfit. He still looked as beautiful as you remembered him to be, tears began to prick the corner of your eyes but not tears of sadness or fear, they were tears of joy.
You could see Stefan still by the fireplace where he had been burned, you could see Damon standing off to the side of Elijah, but it didn’t matter, you didn’t care about your brothers in that moment. It was as if everything around you faded away and it was just you and Kol.
“Kol…” you whisper, softly.
His gaze snaps up to find you, his eyes softening when he sees you.
“Y/N…”
Without giving it a second thought, Kol takes one of the hands restraining Klaus and uses it to snap the hybrids neck. He speeds towards you, something Damon takes note of but when he moves to get to you, to try and protect you from what he thinks is a threat; Elijah places his hand onto Damon’s chest, stopping him from moving.
You slowly bring your hands up to hold his face and he covers your hands with his, ”You’re real…” you breath out, you still couldn’t believe he was in front of you after all this time.
He smiles, chuckling a bit, “I’m real… and I’m not leaving you ever again.”
You smile, causing more tears to flow and you throw yourself into his arms, nuzzling your face into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut and welcoming the darkness that came with it because for the first time, in a century, you weren’t alone in the dark. You were with Kol, your Kol.
His arms wrap tightly around your waist, inhaling your scent that he remembers so fondly, “I missed you, my darling.”
It must have been those words that finally helped Damon connect the dots, that this was the boy, the one that changed your opinion on vampires, the one who turned you into a vampire. This was the boy you lost a century ago, the boy you’d do anything and everything to get back. Including betraying your own family.
“You’re free to go. This is family business.”
Elijah’s words made Damon realize something, you weren’t his family anymore, you hadn’t been for a long time. Maybe you never officially got married because you ran out of time but you were no longer Y/N Salvatore, you were Y/N Mikaelson. He can pinpoint the exact moment you stopped being his family and it was long before the Mikaelsons, it was when he and Stefan chose Katherine Pierce over you. That fateful night where he told you that you weren’t his family anymore.
The truth hurts and the truth was that there was no fixing your relationship with either of your brothers. The next few months would make that abundantly clear. Like when you snapped Damon’s neck after he snapped Kol’s. Or when you stood by while Kol beat Damon with an aluminum bat. And of course you stood by Rebekah when she had compelled and trapped everyone in the school. You even helped Kol slaughter all of the newly turned vampires meant for Jeremy… and you let Kol torture Damon.
So maybe you really weren’t their family anymore, maybe that’s why they wouldn’t feel as guilty about what was going to happen when Jeremy would kill Kol.
At least you wouldn’t be alone when the darkness came, you would die in the arms of your love in the middle of the Gilbert family kitchen. It didn’t matter to you that his body was still crackingly, still burning, you‘d endure the feeling of your flesh melting to his if it meant you got to hold him one last time. There would be no coming back for either of you, you knew this and accepted it. You closed your eyes and faded away into the darkness, welcoming it.
You only hoped that when you’d wake on the other side, you’d still be in Kol’s arms.
The Gilbert house was too quiet at night. Without Elena’s soft footsteps or Jeremy’s music leaking under his bedroom door, silence stretched across the living room like a blanket. You weren’t used to being alone here — not really — and it made the creaks of the floorboards louder, the tick of the clock sharper, the shadows outside the windows heavier.
But when the knock came, sharp against the wood, you didn’t jump. Somehow, you already knew who it was.
You pulled the door open and there he was. Damon Salvatore. Leaning one shoulder against the frame like he owned it, wearing that half-smirk that made you feel like he could see right through your skin and into your thoughts. His eyes, impossibly blue even in the low light, lingered on you a second too long, the way they always did.
“Hi, Dam,” you said, your voice lighter than the way your chest tightened.
His mouth curved up slowly, deliberately. “Hey, angel.”
That nickname again. The one he’d been using since the first time he met you, as if he’d claimed you with a single word. You always laughed it off, rolled your eyes, told him he was ridiculous. But every time, it made your stomach flip in a way you couldn’t explain.
He straightened a little, tilting his head. “Are you gonna invite me in?” His voice was velvet — low, smooth, a little dangerous.
You shook your head with a soft laugh. “I don’t need to say it. You know you can.”
The innocence you maintain, the fact that you don't know anything, not he's secret or everything that it hides behind, he loved that.
His smirk sharpened, his body shifting closer, close enough that the air between you felt heavier, warmer. His lips dipped toward your ear, his words brushing over your skin like a touch.
“I can what…” he whispered, dragging the pause just long enough to make you swallow. “Say it.”
Your throat went dry, but you forced yourself to meet his eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “You can come in,” you said softly, almost steady, though your cheeks betrayed you with heat.
Damon chuckled under his breath, pleased, and stepped past the threshold. But not without leaning close, his breath ghosting against your jaw as he murmured, “Inside the house, or…”
You froze for half a heartbeat before you caught the smirk tugging at his lips, the mischievous spark in his eyes.
“Damon.” You rolled your eyes, your blush deepening, but a laugh slipped from your mouth all the same.
He grinned like he’d won something, brushing past you with casual arrogance as if he’d lived here all his life. You shut the door behind him, still fighting the smile tugging at your lips, and turned to see him already pouring himself into the living room, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jeans.
“You know,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at you with mock seriousness, “most girls would scream if a man showed up at their house uninvited this late. You, on the other hand…” He let his gaze drift slowly down the length of you and back up, unhurried, shameless. “You look like you were waiting for me.”
“I wasn’t,” you said quickly, crossing your arms.
“Mhm.” He flopped lazily onto the couch, stretching out like a cat that owned the place. “Sure, angel. I believe you.”
Your arms tightened across your chest, though you couldn’t fight the curve of your lips. Damon was always like this — toeing the line, leaning too close, saying too much, and leaving you unsure if he was serious or just playing. Most of the time, you laughed it off. But when it was just the two of you, no Elena, no Jeremy, no distractions, it was harder to ignore the way his words lingered in the air, thick and electric.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you muttered, though it lacked any bite.
“Mm, but I am,” he said simply, tilting his head back against the couch cushion, his smirk softening into something hungrier as his eyes found yours again. “And you’re not throwing me out. So…” He patted the empty space beside him. “Come sit, angel. Unless you’re scared.”
You hesitated. Damon watched you like he was reading every flicker of hesitation, every racing heartbeat.
The movie flickered on the TV, shadows dancing lazily across the walls of the living room, but neither of you had been paying attention for a while. The silence had stretched, comfortable yet heavy, and you found yourself fiddling with the hem of your silk pajama dress, staring at the images on the screen without really seeing them. Finally, to break the quiet, you asked the first thing that popped into your mind.
“Can you imagine if vampires really existed?” Your voice was soft, curious, carrying that innocent lilt Damon had become addicted to.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned his head slowly toward you, the corner of his mouth curving in that trademark smirk, though his eyes gleamed with something sharper, something darker. “Would you be afraid of them?” he asked, his tone casual but laced with amusement, like he already knew your answer and was daring you to surprise him.
“That depends,” you replied, tilting your head with the same kind of innocent thoughtfulness that made him lose his composure.
Damon’s gaze lingered on you, and for a dangerous second, he forgot the game. He forgot the teasing, the sarcastic banter, all of it. Because the way you looked at him — wide-eyed, unguarded, pure — was enough to unravel centuries of practiced self-control. He drowned in it, over and over again, as if every beat of your pulse was another wave dragging him under. He wanted to rip that innocence to shreds, to tear the bandana from your eyes and show you exactly what kind of monster you were so recklessly inviting closer.
His gaze slid down, tracing the line of your white silk pajama dress. The delicate fabric clung to your body like a whisper, and the contrast — your softness wrapped in something so fragile — made his jaw clench.
“I’m sure you’d make someone fall in love,” he said suddenly, his voice softer, lower, carrying more weight than you expected.
You blinked at him, lips parting in surprise, before the warmth of his words painted your cheeks red. Damon lifted his hand slowly, deliberately, the pad of his fingers brushing against your skin in a feather-light caress that lingered at your cheek. His thumb traced the curve of your blush as if he’d put it there himself.
“Do you believe that?” you asked softly, almost in a whisper, as if you were afraid to break the moment.
“Oh, I know that,” he assured you, his voice thick with certainty, his eyes locked onto yours like a predator who had cornered prey he didn’t want to scare off too quickly. He leaned closer, the scent of bourbon and leather enveloping you, and the air around you tightened until it was impossible to breathe normally.
"Come closer" he whisperd.
The world seemed to stop. Your body went still, frozen not out of fear but out of something deeper, heavier — the overwhelming gravity of him. Every nerve in you felt awake, waiting.
“Don’t make me repeat that, angel,” Damon whispered, his breath grazing your lips, his eyes piercing through every shield you thought you had.
Your heart hammered, reckless and loud, but instead of pulling away, you moved. Slowly, nervously, you shifted closer, your knees dragging across the couch cushions until you were right in front of him, your body leaning in as if drawn by some invisible tether. Your pulse was racing so fast you could feel it in your fingertips, but you refused to look away.
“So vulnerable,” Damon murmured, his eyes raking down the lines of your body, his voice thick with hunger. “So pure.”
Your breath caught when his gaze lingered on the silk draped across your chest, the unspoken implication hanging heavy between you. His lips twisted into a smirk, but his voice was darker now, rougher. “Completely pure.”
You swallowed hard, your name falling from your lips like a plea. “Damon…”
His hand, still cupping your cheek, slid back slightly, his fingers tangling in your hair, holding you there, making sure you couldn’t escape his eyes. He leaned closer, his voice dipping into something dangerous and undeniable.
“I’m not even going to ask you,” he said, every word deliberate, dripping with certainty. “I know you feel it.”
The world collapsed into the space between your mouths, a space shrinking by the second, filled with tension and heat and something far bigger than either of you could deny. You didn’t even have time to think — to protest, to agree — before Damon moved in and pressed his lips to yours.
The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t sloppy or eager. It was slow, sensual, deliberate. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world to undo you piece by piece, as if the act of taking his time was more intoxicating than the destination itself. His lips were soft, his movements smooth, and yet every tilt of his mouth against yours carried the dangerous promise of something far more consuming.
And for the first time, you didn’t laugh it off. You didn’t tell him he was ridiculous. You kissed him back.
His lips moved over yours with unbearable patience, every brush and tilt carefully measured, designed to make you dizzy. Damon didn’t kiss like someone experimenting; he kissed like someone who had perfected the art over centuries and was now enjoying the pleasure of unraveling you, one trembling breath at a time.
When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t with reluctance — it was with purpose. He left you chasing after his mouth without meaning to, your body betraying you as you leaned toward him. His smirk was waiting for you when you opened your eyes, smug and sharp.
“Mm,” he murmured, thumb dragging lazily over your bottom lip, as if tasting the echo of your kiss wasn’t enough. “Knew it.”
Your breath caught, your voice softer than you meant it to be. “Knew what?”
“That you’d taste this sweet,” he said, his tone a sinful mix of mockery and reverence. “Like sin dressed in white silk.”
Heat flooded your chest, your cheeks, and you tried to glare at him, to brush it off the way you always did. But his hand was still in your hair, his body close enough to steal your air, and you realized you couldn’t joke your way out this time. Not when every nerve in you was tuned to him.
“Damon…” you whispered, but your voice cracked in the middle, betraying you.
He chuckled low, savoring it, tilting his head as his eyes roamed down your body again — slow, unapologetic, as though he was memorizing the effect he had on you. “Relax, angel. I’m not going to bite.” His smirk deepened. “Unless you ask me nicely.”
Your lips parted, caught between protest and something else you didn’t want to name.
He leaned in again, this time brushing his mouth along your jaw, not quite kissing, just letting his lips skim your skin. The sensation sent shivers racing down your spine, and when his breath fanned against your ear, you almost forgot how to breathe.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice low and husky, each word sliding over you like velvet. “That little ache… the one you can’t explain.”
You closed your eyes, your hands tightening on the cushion beneath you. He was too close, too warm, too much.
“I don’t—” you started, but your words faltered as his lips ghosted down to your neck, pressing the softest, most fleeting kiss against your pulse point.
“Don’t lie to me, angel,” he murmured, his tone teasing but laced with something sharp. “Your body already gave you away.”
You swallowed hard, pulse hammering beneath his mouth, and Damon smiled against your skin, clearly delighted with the chaos he’d created inside you. He didn’t press further — not yet. Instead, he pulled back just enough to look at you again, his eyes dark, amused, hungry.
“You’re shaking,” he said softly, like he was announcing a secret only he could see. “And I haven’t even started.”
The smirk returned, wicked and slow. He leaned in until his forehead almost touched yours, his voice dropping to a whisper that forced you to listen, every syllable dripping with heat.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he challenged, his thumb stroking your cheek as if daring you to deny him. “Look me in the eyes, angel, and tell me to stop.”
But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Your lips parted, but no words came. The silence was all the confession Damon needed.
His grin spread, triumphant. “That’s what I thought.”
Damon didn’t wait for you to recover. His mouth was back on yours, hungrier this time, stealing your breath before you could think. His kiss was still slow, but the pressure was firmer, his tongue brushing against your lower lip in a request he didn’t bother to voice — because he already knew you’d give in.
When you did, when you parted your lips for him, his groan was low and satisfied, vibrating through you as his hand slid down from your cheek to the curve of your jaw, then lower still, tracing the line of your throat with dangerous precision.
“You have no idea,” he whispered between kisses, his lips dragging across your skin as he moved to your neck, “how badly I’ve wanted this.”
Your breath hitched when his mouth lingered at your pulse point, sucking lightly, enough to make you clutch at the fabric of the couch.
“Damon—” His name left your lips like a plea, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for.
“Relax, angel,” he murmured, his lips brushing your collarbone. “You’ll like it.”
His hand, the one not tangled in your hair, began to wander lower. Slow. Purposeful. He traced down the edge of your arm, brushing his knuckles along your skin just enough to make goosebumps rise. Then, as if he couldn’t resist, he let his palm flatten against your hip, the silk of your pajama dress sliding easily beneath his touch.
You stiffened, just for a second, your innocence warring with the rush of heat flooding through you. Damon felt it, of course. He pulled back, his lips curving into a smug smile as his eyes locked on yours again.
“Nervous?” he asked, his tone mocking, though his hand never moved from your hip.
You swallowed hard. “A little.”
“Good,” he said simply, his grin widening. “Means I’m doing it right.”
He leaned in again, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that left no room for laughter this time. His hand slid further up, fingers teasing along your waist, brushing dangerously close to the curve of your ribs. Every touch was maddeningly slow, as though he was enjoying the torture of holding back more than the release itself.
When he finally pulled back, his lips swollen from the kiss, his voice dropped to a whisper that dripped heat into your veins.
“You have no idea how easy it would be to ruin you,” he said, his thumb stroking your skin through the thin silk. “And the worst part?” He smirked, leaning close enough that his lips almost brushed your ear. “You’d let me.”
Your breath caught, your protest dying before it formed. Damon chuckled low in his chest, clearly delighted by your helplessness, and his hand wandered further up, grazing just beneath the swell of your breast before retreating deliberately, as if to remind you he was in control of the pace.
“Please…” The word slipped out before you could stop it, and your face burned instantly with the realization.
Damon froze, his blue eyes flashing with a darker hunger as his smirk widened. “Oh, you have no idea what that does to me,” he drawled, his thumb brushing dangerously close to the underside of your breast. “Begging already? And here I thought I’d have to work harder to corrupt you, doll”
You should’ve been offended, should’ve pushed him away, but instead your body leaned into him, desperate for more of the contact he was still teasing you with. Damon laughed under his breath, low and sinful, like he’d just won a game only he knew you were playing.
In one fluid movement, he shifted, guiding you back against the couch cushions, his body hovering over yours. His hand slid up your thigh now, dragging the hem of your dress higher as he went. The contrast of his cool skin against your heated flesh made you gasp, your fingers curling into his shirt as if to anchor yourself.
“Mm, that’s it,” he murmured against your neck, pressing kisses down the line of your throat. “So soft, so responsive. You’re killing me, angel.”
His hand finally reached the top of your thigh, squeezing lightly, his thumb brushing the delicate edge of your panties. He didn’t push further — not yet — just traced the line slowly, deliberately, watching the way your body arched at the contact.
“You want me to stop?” he asked suddenly, his voice husky but mocking, daring you. “Because if you don’t say it now…” His lips dragged along your jaw, back to your mouth, hot and demanding. “I won’t.”
Your eyes locked with his, wide, conflicted, burning. But the words wouldn’t come — not to stop him. Not when every part of you was screaming for more.
And Damon knew it.
His grin returned, sharp and sinful. “That’s my girl.”
He shifted his weight, letting one knee press between your thighs, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your panties to graze your wetness. The sensation made you arch again, a shuddering moan escaping your lips as he lingered just enough to make you desperate.
“You’re mine tonight, angel,” he said, voice rough with hunger. “Every inch of you, and you’re going to love it.”
His lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone, kissing and sucking, while his fingers explored freely, pushing boundaries, teasing, making you cry out. When he finally pressed two fingers inside you, slow and demanding, your back arched, your hands clutching his hair as you gave in to the fire he was igniting inside you.
“Damon…” you gasped, voice trembling between need and disbelief.
“Yes, angel, say my name,” he whispered, fingers moving with a perfect, torturous rhythm. “Say it like you mean it. You know you want it.”
Your body betrayed you, responding to every touch, every kiss, every teasing comment, and Damon’s grin widened, hearing the sounds he’d been craving. He increased the pressure, curling his fingers inside you, matching your quivers, while his mouth returned to yours in a heated, claiming kiss.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured against your lips, his tongue brushing yours as his fingers moved faster, teasing, demanding. “So… perfect. All yours, angel. Mine to ruin.”
The words alone, dirty and possessive, sent shivers down your spine as your climax crept closer, each stroke of his fingers perfectly timed with the kisses, the nips, the teasing. When he finally pressed a thumb against your clit, gentle at first, then firm, your hips bucked uncontrollably, and a loud moan ripped from you.
Damon groaned, pulling back just enough to watch you, his eyes dark with triumph and lust. “That’s it, angel. Let go for me. Let me hear you scream my name.”
Your body convulsed beneath him, shivering, trembling, caught between overwhelming pleasure and the dizzying sensation of being completely, utterly taken over. Damon held you, kissed you through it, whispered filthy little praises as your body softened against his, still trembling under his touch.
When you finally came down, breathless and trembling, he didn’t stop. He pulled you into his lap fully, pressing his body against yours, teasing, exploring, leaving no inch of you untouched. Every kiss, every groan, every movement was Damon claiming you
“You’re dripping for me, angel,” he murmured, lips grazing your earlobe. “All mine. Can’t wait to feel you fully.”
Before you could protest, he tugged the thin fabric of your pajamas aside, exposing you completely. Your skin tingled under his gaze, and the blush that had never left your cheeks deepened. Damon’s eyes drank you in, slow and possessive, his smirk wicked.
“God, you’re so perfect,” he whispered, sliding a finger inside you again, curling it expertly, making you gasp. “So tight, so wet… so damn ready for me.”
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a scorching kiss, teeth lightly grazing your bottom lip as his other hand found your breast, kneading it with a possessive grip. You moaned into his mouth, your body trembling, craving more, needing more.
“You’re mine tonight,” he growled, his lips dragging down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. “Mine to take, mine to ruin. And you’ll love it, angel. You’ll love it so much.”
His fingers moved faster inside you, curling expertly, pressing just the right spots as he brushed his thumb over your clit. You arched uncontrollably, hands clutching at his shoulders, teeth sinking into your lower lip to keep from screaming.
“Damon… please…” you gasped, voice broken and needy.
“I’m not stopping,” he whispered, his tone dark, commanding, as he finally positioned himself, brushing against your entrance. “I want to feel every inch of you, angel. You want that too, don’t you?”
Your knees trembled, and you could only nod, unable to form words as he pressed into you slowly, carefully, giving you a moment to adjust. The stretch, the friction, the fullness of him — it was overwhelming, every nerve in your body screaming, and yet, your mind was hazy with desire.
“You feel so perfect,” he groaned, hips moving with a slow, punishing rhythm at first, letting you feel every inch, teasing you. “So tight, so wet… god, angel, you’re killing me.”
You whimpered, digging your nails into his back as he picked up the pace, thrusting harder, deeper, groaning low in your ear. His dirty words mixed with the slick sound of skin on skin, echoing through the quiet house.
“Look at me,” he growled, one hand gripping your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you’ve never wanted anyone like this before.”
“I… I’m yours,” you moaned, voice trembling, body arching into him as he slammed into you, slow at first, then faster, punishing and urgent. “Only yours, Damon…”
He smirked, brushing a lock of hair from your face, letting a hand roam freely over your body as he whispered filthy little praises between rough, deep thrusts.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, lips brushing your ear. “So wet for me, so perfect… god, angel, you’re going to come for me again, aren’t you?”
“Yes… yes!” you cried, voice breaking as he hit the perfect angle inside you over and over, his rhythm relentless, dragging you toward the edge again. Fucking you as if just the thought of stopping could make him die.
“Good girl,” he growled, biting your shoulder gently, watching your face contort with pleasure. “That’s it… come for me, babygirl. Let me hear you scream my name.”
And with that, the world shattered into heat and pleasure, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as Damon held you, kissed you, whispered filthy, possessive things into your ear while he rode out the fire with you, every thrust, every groan, every motion consuming and claiming you utterly.
When the tremors finally subsided, he collapsed against you, lips finding yours in a softer, lingering kiss. His hands still held you close, possessive and protective, though the hunger in his eyes never fully faded.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, voice rough but tender now. “God, angel… I can’t get enough of you.”
You shivered against him, exhausted and overwhelmed, body still tingling from every touch, every thrust, every sinful word. And deep down, you knew… this was only the beginning.