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Cami x Elijah_

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Wow!

Surrender

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

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!reader} After a bloody night out, Elijah returns home teetering on the edge. You don’t try to reason with the violence simmering under his skin. You offer him relief instead.

♡♡ This is my attempt to do a proper sub!elijah fic that feels true to his character... It’s based on a request I got a long time ago that’s stuck with me ever since ~xo ♡♡

1.4k words - Warnings: smut, dom!reader x sub!Elijah, oral sex (f!receiving), face riding, power dynamics, praise & degradation, emotional unraveling, worship kink && a bloody Klaus..

♡♡ Ps: thank you soo much for your love and support for mikaelson week!! It was so much fun to write && stay tuned for more ♡♡

The front door creaked open, and for one agonizing second, your heart seized. It was late. Too late. You had spent the last hour imagining every brutal way this night might end.

But Klaus's voice echoed first, vibrant and smug, shattering your dread.

"And that's precisely how one makes a grand exit, brother," he announced, voice dripping with satisfaction. You could practically hear his smirk as he swaggered into view, dripping blood and arrogance, his henley torn to ribbons, clinging damp to his chest from sweat and gore, his curls a wild, sweat-soaked mess.

Elijah followed behind, his suit still pristine save for the splatters of blood staining the cuffs and the lapels. His eyes, though... Elijah's eyes had always been his tell, and tonight they burned, wild and hungry. His body remained still, but his eyes moved like the sea, a raging, tumultuous tempest that could only mean one thing.

He saw you and something in him jolted. Relief tried to surface, but it was quickly smothered under the weight of everything else. Duty. Rage. Control. Always control.

You exhaled slowly, relief flooding you as you rose, moving instinctively toward your husband, needing to touch him, to hold him, to confirm for yourself that he had truly returned unharmed.

He stiffened slightly when you wrapped your arms around him, a brief flash of tension in his body. But then he slowly allowed himself to melt into your embrace, his own arms winding around you as his lips pressed a gentle kiss against your temple. Even now, even here, his body hummed with residual energy. Violence lived just under his skin. He didn’t know how to release it. Only how to restrain it.

Klaus tossed his jacket onto the chair carelessly, eyes glittering as he recounted the night’s exploits.

"You should've seen it, Y/n," he said, grinning fiercely. "A masterpiece, really. Broken necks, blood everywhere. My dear brother got particularly artistic. Quite the show."

Elijah hummed faintly, voice even, almost bored. "I merely sought efficiency," he replied.

The words came out flat. Polished. Safe.

Inside, he was anything but.

You shifted, pressing a palm against his chest. You knew the mask he wore, the calm exterior he defaulted to when the world became too loud, too sharp. It was the shell he built when centuries of loss, pain, and responsibility threatened to crush him. It was the front he wore when he wanted nothing more than to break, and the only thing that kept him from shattering completely.

And when the cracks in his mask began to show, when the pressure of his endless self-control began to overwhelm him, it became your duty to peel it away, gently, deliberately, piece by piece, until you reached the man beneath.

Klaus kept talking, relishing every bloody detail, oblivious or uncaring of Elijah’s silent unraveling. You lifted your gaze, catching Elijah’s eyes as you tilted your head, studying him. No injuries. No fatigue. Just the unbearable, quiet pressure he had placed on himself.

Your gaze softened. "Klaus," you said quietly. "It’s late."

Klaus turned, his eyes flicking knowingly from your hand pressed against Elijah’s chest to Elijah’s barely contained energy. A wicked smirk curved his lips.

"Ah, eager to retire already, are we?" he drawled, voice rich with amusement and innuendo. "I suppose there's nothing quite like a good fuck after a proper massacre to calm the nerves."

You rolled your eyes. "We’re going upstairs," you said flatly.

Klaus smirked, his gaze sweeping appreciatively over the pair of you. "Well, if you want company..."

"Good night, Niklaus," Elijah cut in smoothly, his voice still even, but the threat in his tone was clear.

You were already tugging him toward the stairs, his fingers laced tightly with yours. He followed without hesitation. A part of him didn’t trust himself to lead right now.

The bedroom door shut with a soft click and the world outside fell away.

You did not turn on the lights. The moonlight spilling through the high windows was enough, the silver glow catching on the sharp planes of Elijah’s face as he waited, motionless, in the center of the room.

You walked slowly, deliberately, circling him once without a word. Your nails trailed lightly across his shoulder, the collar of his stained shirt, the faint smear of dried blood on his throat. He watched you. Always watching. But saying nothing.

You stepped close. One hand came up to rest gently on the side of his neck. Your voice was calm, soft, but there was no mistaking the command beneath it.

"Kneel."

His eyes snapped to yours, wide, startled. And then… grateful.

And he dropped.

No hesitation. No arrogance. Just obedience.

Elijah knelt in front of you like he belonged there. His body still buzzing from violence, and yet his gaze was soft, adoring. He breathed you in like salvation, like he had only just now remembered what oxygen was. He did not care. This was peace. This was the only thing that ever silenced the noise.

"Good," you murmured, stepping closer, your fingers grazing through his sweat-dampened hair. "That’s better. Look at you. Such a perfect little killer. Slaughter on your hands, and now you’re here, waiting to be told what to do."

He didn’t respond, didn’t need to. The praise hit somewhere deep, curling inside his chest and loosening something tight and long-held.

His hands rested lightly on his thighs, posture still too perfect, too composed. Still trying to hold on.

So you tightened your grip in his hair, just enough to tip his head back, to make his throat stretch out for you.

"I said let go, Elijah," you whispered, voice low and mocking. "You don’t need to think. You don’t need to speak. All that blood, all that fury. Gone. And now? You exist for this. For me."

You watched his lips part, breath coming faster. That mask, that control, it was already slipping. And for once, he welcomed it.

"I want your mouth," you said, slowly, deliberately. "I want you to forget everything except how to make me come. You understand?"

He moaned softly, reverently, as your fingers pulled up your dress. Slowly. You revealed inch after inch of bare skin, enjoying the way his eyes tracked the movement like prey caught in the jaws of something bigger. Hungrier.

You stepped out of your heels and panties, then lifted one leg over his shoulder, guiding his face between your thighs with the kind of ease that came from knowing he would follow you anywhere.

"You’ve killed for me," you whispered, your tone almost sweet. "Now earn your reward, my beautiful monster."

Only with you did it not feel like a curse.

His mouth landed on your cunt like it was prayer. He licked slowly, deliberately, savoring your taste with the passion of a man unmaking himself. This was not desperation. This was devotion.

"God," you breathed, rocking your hips forward. "You taste me like I’m the only thing keeping you alive. Is that it, baby? Is that what you need? Just something warm to bury your mouth in after all that blood?"

He whimpered against you. Not just from arousal… but from relief. You always could see him so clearly.

"Look at you," you whispered. "Elijah Mikaelson, terror of men. On your knees with his mouth full of cunt. What would your enemies say, hmm?"

His pride didn’t flinch. Not even a little. Not with you. Instead he moaned at your words as you guided the rhythm, grinding against him. His jaw flexed. His tongue followed every twitch of your hips like he was born for this.

"You feel that?" you whispered, panting, hips rolling harder now. "That’s me using you. That’s your reward for being such a good little killer."

Tears stung his eyes. He didn’t fight them. He had no more room for control. He let surrender take over.

You rode his face, cunt soaked, thighs trembling around his head as the orgasm built fast and sharp and relentless. His tongue flicked, circled, sucked. Every movement perfectly in tune with your body.

And when it hit, when your orgasm crashed through you, you did not hold back.

You ground your hips down hard, moaning his name like a mantra, your thighs squeezing tight around his face as your cunt pulsed against his tongue. He stayed there. Still. Anchored. Letting you use him until the trembling passed and the world slowed.

Only then did you release your grip.

Only then did he pull back. Face flushed. Mouth soaked. Chest heaving.

You stroked the sweat-matted hair back from his forehead, your thumb brushing under his eye. You tilted his chin up with two fingers, your gaze soft now, heavy with something warmer than lust.

"Better?" you asked quietly.

His nod was immediate. Small. Honest.

You smiled.

"Come on," you murmured, guiding him to his feet with a gentle tug. "Let’s get you in the shower."

And just like that, he followed.

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why was he always behind her?….

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elejah_au

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“I don’t think he can stay away because she’s too much of a miracle for him. There’s something in her that’s also in him […] but there’s a spiritual quality they share and that’s going to be very difficult for him to not return to.” - Daniel Gillies [x]

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elejah_au

○

Their relationship was a constant battle against the very forces that had brought them together. The ancient vampire society, the supernatural hunters, and the ever-present threat of exposure- it all threatened to tear them apart. Elena, accustomed to a human existence, struggled with the realities of Elijah's immortality and the dark secrets he carried. Yet, amidst the chaos, their love persisted. It was a fragile thing, a flickering candle flame in a hurricane.

The possibility of a future together, a future beyond the fleeting moments they had stolen from the shadows, was a burning ember in his chest. Maybe it wasn't over. Maybe, despite the inherent differences and the insurmountable challenges, their love could conquer all. The thought fueled him, filled him with a reckless hope. He wanted to stay with her forever. And so it would be. In his arms, he would hold her, a fierce protector against the darkness of the world and the eternity stretching before them, his love for her as strong and ancient as his own immortal heart.

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🫠

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Same 💁🏻‍♀️

Elena smiling while looking at her boyfriend

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ELENA GILBERT & ELIJAH MIKAELSON THE VAMPIRE DIARIES 2.011 "By the Light of the Moon"

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What in the Booktok is happening here?!

I'm here for it 💁🏻‍♀️

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That chin dimple though 🤦🏻‍♀️🥵

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Jesus !!!

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Sweet god 🥵respectfully

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i just LOVE the way you write Elijah, i don't know if you answered this question before but what were your fav Elijah looks???

Soooooo many (He never looks bad)

I enjoy him a lot in season 1 of TO when he's more casually dressed. He’s still polished, but the more relaxed fit of his suits, not wearing his tie as often and the occasional open collar or t-shirt? Flawless.

All of his all black monochromatic looks throughout the seasons. It's giving daddy vampire, its giving suited up goth husband, its giving me a thirst...

♡♡♡♡ VEST ♡♡♡♡

When he was rocking that tux during the Strix party in TO season 3... He was 100% showing Hayley what she's missing. Like, that wasn’t just a tux, that was a revenge tux. It’s his battle armor, tailored to perfection, designed to intimidate, seduce, and remind everyone in the room exactly who he is. (the maker, the creator. The founding fatherrr)

No Shirt / No sleeves (Thank you Daniel)

&& My fav?? Whatever was going on in TO Season 5… piano Elijah, the leather jackets, the slutty henleys (full Klaus-core), the little necklaces??? I hate this season, but he is GLOWING without his memories. Like, sir, why did losing your tragic backstory turn you into the hottest version of yourself?

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Elejah 💖