#salvatore got me acting up

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Short notice before the start of a deployment was bad enough, but Bradley was left worrying about so much more. And if he didn't figure it out quickly, he thought he might lose you. How would you and he make it through the worst kind of time apart?

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, smut, angst, adult banter, desperate Bradley, 18+

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your boyfriend was acting strange, and now you had the distinct feeling he was lying to you. You sat on your bed after work on Friday with tears in your eyes as you tried to process the fact that you barely heard from him after you sent the topless picture the day before. Usually that kind of thing got him going in a good way, and he kept telling you he was fine, but it didn't seem that way. You just couldn't figure out what happened. 

A few minutes ago, you texted him about the plan for the weekend. You really wanted to talk to him about your upcoming winter break, too. You were supposed to be heading to his house right now, but you were having second thoughts as you read the latest message from him again.

I know we were supposed to go to Salvatore's tonight, but I think we need to talk instead. 

This sounded so bad to you. It didn't sound like he simply had a long day and just wanted to relax on the couch with you. This was something that built up over the past two days, and now you felt tears in your eyes as you scooped up your overnight bag and headed out.

"Just get it over with," you told yourself as you drove. You tried to focus on your playlist, but your mind was wandering to the plethora of reasons why I think we need to talk spelled disaster.

After you fought your way through rush hour traffic and pulled up to park in front of Bradley's house which you were supposed to move into next month, you noticed he was sitting on the porch step, waiting for you. And he didn't look very happy.

"Hi," he greeted with a poor attempt at a smile as he slowly stood and made his way over to you. He looked tall, broad and handsome in his uniform, but he didn't call you Gorgeous. 

"What's wrong?" you asked, not even bothering to get your bag out of your car before you met him halfway up his walkway. 

He pulled you in for a hug, and you could feel his lips on your ear as he lied to you again. "Nothing's wrong."

"Bradley," you said, trying to pull out of his grasp. He let you go, but now he wasn't even pretending to smile. You swallowed and whispered, "You've been acting strange since yesterday. I thought maybe work was getting to you, or that you just needed a day of quiet to yourself. But clearly this has to do with me, so just tell me what's wrong."

"It's not you," he replied instantly, taking a step closer with a pained look on his face. "God, it's absolutely not you."

When you looked at him more closely, it was obvious he was exhausted. Like maybe he hadn't even slept last night. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were sagging forward just enough that he looked almost defeated. 

"Bradley."

He looked down at the sidewalk before meeting your eyes again. "I found out yesterday... I'm being deployed."

The wave of emotion didn't hit you as hard as it could have, because you'd given this a lot of thought, but you were still rendered speechless. You'd mentally planned for this. Deployments were a way of life for him. But the tears were back as you asked, "When?"

"Day after Christmas," he murmured miserably. "But that's not all."

Your voice wouldn't work as you looked up at him, vision blurring his handsome features into something that was almost frightening. "What?"

He paused while you swiped at your eyes, and just when you thought you were going to have to force it out of him, he said, "It's with the Atlantic Fleet. Out of Norfolk, Virginia. They... they said they want me permanently."

"No," you sobbed, realizing that your tears were starting to roll down your cheeks. Now it made perfect sense. You knew why he'd been acting so odd. "You want to break up before you leave."

"What?" Bradley replied, his voice sharp as he reached for you again. "No. No, Gorgeous. I don't."

You felt ridiculous, crying in his arms in his front yard, but all you could say was, "Then why didn't you just tell me yesterday that you're going back to Virginia?"

"Fuck," he grunted, tucking you tighter against him. "Does this mean you don't want to dump me?"

You inhaled the smell of his deodorant and jet fuel as you cried. "Why on earth would you think I'd want to dump you? I'm in love with you."

He started to back toward the front door, his hold on you never relenting as he murmured, "Now that I know you're not going to leave, let's go inside where we can talk and snuggle on the couch."

--------------------------

Bradley had been waiting on his porch step for almost an hour for you to arrive, thinking there was a real chance that you'd drive off again. He was tired and hungry, and he'd spent the last day and a half trying to figure out what was going on with his job. But more than anything, he was afraid you hadn't changed your stance on falling for a guy who lived on the opposite side of the country.

Shit. He made you cry. You were still crying as he led you over to the couch where you ended up sitting on his lap. He was trying to wipe your tears away as you just shook your head. "I'm sorry, Baby," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you like this."

You sucked in a few breaths before you managed to say, "Let me make sure I have this straight. You're leaving for Virginia. And you don't know when you're coming back, if at all?"

"Yeah," he whispered. There was no point in beating around the bush about it. "The deployment out of Norfolk is a done deal. Leaving on the twenty-sixth is a done deal. I'm trying my hardest to fight the rest of it."

"You can do that?" you asked, letting your forehead rest against his. 

Bradley kissed you softly. He couldn't stop himself with you this close. "I'm trying. I don't want to leave San Diego. Virginia used to feel like home, but it hasn't for a long time. Especially not since I met you. So a permanent change of station is something I will fight until they force it on me."

You kissed him this time, and he knew nowhere would feel like home without you. But he couldn't retire yet, and he didn't want to have to ask you to uproot your life for him. He just made himself dizzy, chasing his thoughts around in circles. 

"Is there anything I can do?" you asked.

He wanted to beg you to stay with him no matter what, but he couldn't do that either. "Remember when I was deployed last time and you told me you were afraid I was stationed somewhere far away from you? And how you would have to brace yourself to say goodbye instead of pursuing something?" You nodded against him, arms around his neck as he whispered, "I thought about that all night last night. About how this could be the end for us."

"Stop it," you said before pressing your lips to his. "I don't feel that way anymore at all. It wasn't even a deal breaker when I said it months ago, and I hadn't even met you in person yet. I'm not going anywhere, Bradley. We'll figure it out."

He eased himself down along the couch, keeping you firmly on top of him as he sighed in relief. Suddenly fighting for his job with the Pacific Fleet didn't seem as daunting. He had to figure it out though, because he wanted to stay here and get married. "Say my name again?" he asked, knowing exactly how much you could calm him down when he let you in.

"Bradley," you whispered, settling against his chest as he closed his eyes.

"I love you, Gorgeous."

He didn't realize exactly how tired and stressed he was until he woke up close to midnight, alone on the couch with a blanket draped over him, still wearing his uniform and boots. As soon as he opened his eyes, his head was pounding from the events of the week, but he could smell something cooking.

Bradley rolled off the couch while his stomach growled, and he made his way into the kitchen where you were wearing his sweatshirt and making a grilled cheese sandwich while you looked at your phone. "Hey," he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You quickly swiped out of the photo album and tossed your phone aside.

"I was going to wake you up soon. You have almost no food here, but you need to eat," you told him, turning to face him. He had no food, because he originally planned to take you out tonight, and now there was no point in going grocery shopping since he was leaving. Your expression was unreadable, and he didn't like that.

"What I need is to spend as much time with you as I can between now and Norfolk." Your lips curved up into a small smile. "I should have told you what was going on as soon as I found out."

You nodded. "I know we haven't been together long, but I'm taking this pretty fucking seriously, Bradley."

"Me, too," he promised. "And it's really hot when you swear." When you laughed, he felt so much better. "Listen, you're absolutely stuck with me now, okay? I'll figure this shit out, but you're stuck with me, and we're going to get married someday."

"Sounds good," you replied easily, still smiling. "But right now you need to eat."

----------------------------

You felt better with Bradley's arm around you than you had all day. You couldn't believe he'd been hanging onto your words from his last deployment. You were surprised he could still possibly think that distance would mean anything to you. Both of you agreed not to get ahead of yourselves. Uprooting your life and your career would leave you devastated, but you'd start over again for him.

"Were you just looking at the dirty picture you sent me?" Bradley asked as he bit into half of the sandwich while another one cooked.

"Yes," you whispered before nibbling on your own sandwich half.

"Shit," he mumbled, dropping his food back onto the plate where he stood in the kitchen. "I never even told you how much I loved it."

"No. You didn't."

He wiped his hands on his uniform shirt. "God, I keep fucking up. I got so sidetracked by the orders from Norfolk that I couldn't even think. I loved that photo."

You turned away to flip the second grilled cheese sandwich in the pan. "I thought you got tired of me sending them." Bradley's hand moved faster than his brain as he flicked the knob on the stove, turning it off. "Hey," you protested, turning to look at him again, but he pulled the spatula out of your hand and tossed it into the sink. "Bradley!"

He mashed his lips against yours, silencing you as his hands grabbed the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer until you were pressed tight to the front of his body. Then he let his hands slide along your bare skin from your legs, over your perfect ass, up until they were on your lower back. "I'll do better," he promised. "And right now, I want to show you how not fucking tired of you I am."

A minute later, you were on your back on the edge of his bed, legs thrown over his shoulders while he ate your pussy. Your fingers were tangled up in his hair as he knelt on the floor, and his sweatshirt was bunched up above your tits. "I will never get tired of you," he swore before licking a long stripe up to your clit. If you thought for a second that he would want to throw in the towel over long distance, he needed to make sure you understood he never would.

"Bradley," you moaned as he sucked on your clit. His insignia pins were digging into the back of your thigh, as was his name tag. He would figure this out. He would figure everything out. Leaving in a handful of days was not ideal, but as long as you still wanted him, he was all in.

"Oh my god," you whined, back arching as Bradley realized he was being a bit rougher with you than usual. But he couldn't stop. His fingers were digging into your hips, holding you in place as you tried to rock against him. 

His mouth was demanding as he sucked on and plucked at your clit, but you just kept getting louder for him. Your legs were shaking, heels digging into his shoulder blades, but he didn't stop until you came. With his tongue still swirling your clit as you yanked on his hair, Bradley quickly unzipped his khaki pants and pulled himself free. He positioned himself at your entrance as you tugged until his mouth was on yours.

"You liked it rough," he grunted between kisses slick with your arousal.

"I did," you answered, rolling your hips to take the tip of him. As your fingers trailed down to his pins, you asked, "Are you going to fuck me, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" He watched you gasp, mouth agape as he filled you with one deep thrust, and then your head tipped back as you moaned, "I'll take that as a yes."

His lips found that sweet spot next to your ear that he loved to kiss. "I just want to ensure that you'll miss me as much as I miss you while we're apart."

Your voice was softer as you said, "You don't have to worry about that."

Bradley kissed along your neck and told you how much he loved you before absolutely pounding you into the mattress. 

-----------------------------

You and Bradley slept in so late on Saturday morning, you heard him wander out to the living room when Natasha arrived to go for a run to tell her he'd workout on Sunday instead. When he tried to slip back into bed, you rolled over toward him.

"Sorry. It was just Nat. I forgot I told her days ago that we could run." He gathered you against his chest and kissed your forehead.

You grinned and said, "I heard you tell her that the love of your life was more appealing today than working out."

"I sure did," he grunted and ran his big, heavy hand down your back. "You're always more appealing than anything else, Gorgeous. But if I don't run, I'll gain so much weight. You know how much I eat."

A smile found your lips as you thought about the rough sex followed by another round of grilled cheese sandwiches at two in the morning. "Can we skip Salvatore's again tonight? I'd rather stay here and feed you. We can go to Salvatore's when your deployment ends and you return to San Diego."

Bradley sighed. "And if I get told my new station is in Norfolk?"

You pressed your fingertip to his lips. "We're not humoring that thought yet. Instead, we're going to snuggle and fuck and maybe watch a Christmas movie. Okay?"

"Nothing has ever sounded better."

After that, Sunday was spent with the two of you trying to use up as much of his food as you could. You even managed to bake some cookies that he ate a dozen of in one sitting, and then you found a strand of twinkle lights in his hallway closet where you discreetly squished a spider without telling him. You helped him hang the lights on his porch railing as he laughed and said, "I don't usually celebrate holidays anymore."

"You do now," you informed him, making a mental note to have your students make some cards for him this week before he left. Bradley would be very busy over the next few days, and you didn't want to stress him out about the holiday. But just when you were about to ask him if there was a chance he'd want to spend Christmas Day with you before he flew to Norfolk, he said, "Maybe we can get Thai food on Christmas, and you can help me finish packing?"

You nodded and tried to keep the tears at bay, afraid to admit to him that the future you were so sure of was scaring you a bit. Being without him for a deployment was manageable, but the last thing you wanted to do was move across the country. At least you'd have your regular pen pal back while he was on the aircraft carrier; having Bradley in your email inbox on a regular basis again was better than nothing.

"That sounds perfect," you told him, knowing you'd do whatever it took to make this work.

----------------------------

When Bradley was called in to talk to Cyclone, he was exhausted for a different reason. Although the weekend started out laced with uncertainty between you and him, it bloomed into something sweet. On Sunday evening, you held his hand and walked along the windswept beach until it got too chilly, and then you helped him start packing. You'd had some tears in your eyes that he brushed away as you folded his clothes into tiny rectangles and stuck by his side.

Now the only uncertainty he felt came from the U.S. fucking Navy. With a deep breath and squared shoulders, he opened Cyclone's office door after he knocked. It wasn't surprising that Mav and Warlock were there, too, but he couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one regarding a change of station. He raised his hand into the proper salute.

"Admirals. Captain."

The three men returned the courtesy before Cyclone sank into his office chair. "Have a seat, Lieutenant." His voice sounded gruff and perhaps even more annoyed than usual as Bradley slowly sat down opposite him. "Captain Mitchell," he barked at Maverick who procured a folder from behind his back and handed it to Bradley. Then he turned toward Bradley again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, you'll report to the USS Gerald R. Ford in a matter of days to rendezvous with the air strike team."

Bradley nodded and skimmed the paperwork inside the folder regarding the sensitive nature of the mission, but he didn't much care about what they wanted him to do when he got there. "Sir, can you tell me where I'll be stationed once this mission is completed?"

Cyclone leaned back in his seat, brow puckered, arms crossed over his chest. "Naval Station Norfolk has, as you know, requested you specifically to round out their Super Hornet team permanently."

"Yes, Sir," Bradley replied, practically choking on the words. He would have never thought the promise of Virginia would feel like a threat to his happiness, but here he was. "I would really prefer to stay in San Diego," he added, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice.

Cyclone leaned forward in his seat with a weary sigh. "Admiral Simpson, Captain Mitchell and myself all agree that the Pacific Fleet is very well balanced at the moment. Losing a reliable pilot to the Atlantic at this point would not be ideal." The tension in Bradley's body eased up momentarily before Cyclone said, "But I can only do so much to keep the status quo when there is a clear need across the board."

Bradley wanted to ask why nobody else was even in consideration when Warlock cleared his throat and said, "There's a price to pay when you're the best of the best."

There was a beat of silent agreement amongst the four of them before Cyclone heaved a deep breath. "I'll do what I can," he said simply. "In the meantime, prepare for your flight to Norfolk. The information is in the folder. And prepare to be out of communication with any and all civilians for the duration."

Bradley's heart stopped. He opened the folder again, but his eyes couldn't seem to focus on the words in front of him as the pages all blurred together. His fingers scrambled as he swallowed hard, and finally he looked up at the older man seated behind the desk. "No communication at all. For the duration?"

Cyclone nodded once. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant."

---------------------------

It was just something silly, but when you saw it while you were out shopping, you bought Bradley another Christmas present. You wrapped it up in red and gold paper along with the Mira Mesa Elementary School sweatshirt you got in his size. Then you threw the gifts along with the collection of cards from your students in your overnight bag and tried to keep yourself calm as you drove down to Coronado.

You would have a few days with your boyfriend at the beginning of your winter break before you took him to the airport and sent him off to Norfolk. There would be plenty of things to keep you busy while he was away, including packing up your apartment before your lease ended. But now you'd be moving into his house without him there.

All of the twinkle lights and decorated trees gave you a bittersweet feeling in the pit of your stomach as you drove down his street, but at least this time when you parked, he jumped up from his porch step and met you at your car.

"Gorgeous," he breathed, wrapping his arms around you. His old sweatshirt was currently keeping you warm, and you really wanted him to have his new one for his deployment. You kissed him hard, noting the look of apprehension on his face, but chalking it up to the stress of the unknown.

You kissed him again and kept your arms around his neck as he picked up your bag. "I was going to say we should wait until Christmas morning, but I want you to open your presents now."

His voice was deep and raspy and right next to your ear as he led you inside. "You did not have to get me anything." He kissed your cheek and added, "I need to tell you something important."

"After you open these," you agreed, reaching into the bag and pulling out both gifts before he set it down.

Bradley studied your face before running his thumb along your cheek. "Sure. After I open these."

He took the wrapped packages as you tugged him toward the couch with your hands on his bicep, and you ended up halfway on his lap as he carefully tore at the paper like he didn't want to harm it too much.

"Just rip it," you said with a soft laugh, but he shook his head and looked up at you.

"It's too pretty," he replied. "And nobody gets me gifts, ever. Unless you count coupons for steak dinners from Natasha."

You laughed a little louder as you imagined the laundry list of weird gifts his best friend must have given him over the years. When he finally had his hands on the sweatshirt, he sat frozen with a smile on his face. "I love this. I kind of feel like an honorary faculty member at your school."

"You're a legend in my classroom, Bradley," you promised, snuggling a little closer as he set the shirt aside and carefully unwrapped the second item. This one would mean more to you while he was away, and you hoped he understood just how much you were going to miss his voice and his touch. But you'd still have something from your pen pal.

"Oh," Bradley said softly as he held the navy blue stationery set on his lap. It included note cards, luxuriously thick paper and a gold pen. You could already picture his handwriting on the pages.

"We can go back to being pen pals for a bit," you whispered. "I'll be refreshing my email inbox and waiting not so patiently for my mail to arrive. It'll be great. That's how I fell in love with you in the first place."

"Gorgeous," he groaned, setting the stationery down on his coffee table before burying his face in his hands. "That's not gonna happen."

------------------------------

Atlantic Fleet, here we come. But for how long? No pen pals. No email. No letters. This deployment already hurts. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 19

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[klausysworld]

Very closed off reader who kinda clings to Klaus because they relate to him in the fact that he has family troubles :( she sees that he clearley does the things he does because of trauma or whatever and so does everything in her power to show him that he's got someone to fall back on.

Every time he shouts at her or retaleates because he's upset and dosent understand how soemone could be so nice to him she simply gives him a hug or a gift or just sits some distance away to show he isn't alone.

She deals with all his meanness quite well because she's used to it from her family and has learned to block it out :( one day he really has enough of her and after something goes wrong with Elena or Salvatore he really doesn't want reader around him. She tells him quite confidently that he needs soemone to help him and she would never leave him alone at which point he smirks and says something snarky before proving that he doesn't need her. He reaches into her chest and grips her heart and kinda realises he is in the wrong when she looks kinda shocked and sad so he gently takes his hand out and feeds her his blood to help with the damage he left behind. Afterwards reader is less affectionate with him and only sits with him when he is in a state, now afraid to touch him incase he lashes out but still wanting to support him cuz she cares about him :(

Thanks for reading, love your stories!

The Betrayed Becomes The Betrayer.

Growing up on an aggressive household desensitised me to a lot of things; yelling and smashing objects especially. My parents were a mess, I'm not sure if they didn't know how to love or just didn't want to.

Eventually I realised that they were the same thing and that I wasn't wanted at home, so I left and found Hayley.

Which was how I wound up finding Klaus.

He was a broken man, I could tell. Elijah confirmed that their parents had been cruel and abusive almost as soon as we met him which I assumed they also must've become desensitised over it after a thousand years.

However when I actually met Klaus, it was obvious that he was still deeply affected by it. I could understand him, his feelings and his thoughts. I got why he wanted to be so strategic, to have the control that was taken form him. I knew why he wanted to make people hurt the way he hurt and why he was as aggressive as the the people that raised him.

I wasn't violent, or an angry person. I had learnt to be quiet and keep things to myself so that I didn't get in the way but I would think about it. How it would feel to hurt someone, to make them feel worthless and then leave them. Could it really feel good enough to do over and over?

In my head I assumed it must do but I could never bring myself to actually torment someone the way I had been.

But I could tell that Klaus was still haunted by the past and it affected his every move. I couldn't blame him, or fault him for acting upon the images that swirled in my own mind.

Often he got frustrated, angry and inevitably lash out against someone. Something would be thrown, smashed. Someone would be yelling, screaming.

But I never wanted to be mad at him, to me he didn't deserve to be ranted at for what he'd done. They were riling him up further and it was obvious, it was like they wanted him to explode and hurt someone.

So instead of pushing him off that edge, I tried to help him back up.

To begin with I would just be the only one in the room not glaring at him with hatred. I just wanted him to know that there was someone on his side. He didn't notice for a little while but after a couple arguments I think he started to feel my presence. Sometimes he would get snappy, ask what I was looking at but when I'd just tell him that I understood why he did what he did, Klaus would get less defensive.

I wasn't a touchy person, ever, but the time his mother had been back and she hurt him so bad that he cried in his room, I didn't know what else to do but hug him.

After that it seemed like I was hugging him all the time. He calmed so much easier with some touch.

Sometimes he accepted it without complaint but sometimes he didn't want anyone near him so I would go away and come back later. He knew I was there when he needed me and I learnt to be a patient person.

I also learnt not to react so when he screamed in my face I didn't yell back. He had been so stressed lately and a lot of people had died yesterday the day before. I left him alone for the night before coming back in the morning to try and be there, he didn't want to talk so I went away and came back in the afternoon. To begin with he was fine but he got angry so fast, I barely said anything before he was yelling.

I tried not to react, not to talk back or get defensive but then he pushed me. Both hands on my shoulders, shoving me backward toward the wall and I tensed and something stirred in me.

I told him he was being ridiculous, pathetic and he didn't know what he needed.

"What? You think I need you? You think I like your desperate little cuddles. I'm not the one craving touch and love. I've been fine for centuries and I don't need a clingy little thing following me around." He snapped at me and I felt my frown deepen and the hurt biting at me.

"I'm not being clingy...I'm just trying to be helpful." I whispered and he scoffed.

Klaus got close, too close and it frightened me a little. I took a few steps back and he chuckled, trapping me to the wall.

"What is it, love? No more snuggles? You don't want to tell me it's okay? You gonna tell me I should paint a picture?" He mocked, his breath hot on my face. "You think I'm pathetic sweetheart? Think I need you? All I need is for you to disappear." His voice was low but clear, eyes cold and I felt the adrenaline hit and screaming for me to run but I froze just like I used to when I was little.

The smallest sound left me when I felt something agonising within my chest. My mouth opened but no noise would come out and I struggled to breath at all. I looked down, watching my own blood seep through my clothes and drip down his wrist. My eyes were stinging and I could feel my heart close to exploding as his grip tightened. I wasn't sure if I was stood there for hours or seconds before my body reacted and my arms shot up, both my hands latching onto his wrist so he couldn't pull the organ out.

My eyes shot up to look into his, seeing them soften after a second before his hand let go around my heart. A loud cry left me when he tore his fist out of my chest, leaving a gaping hole. I panted and a strong metallic taste filled my mouth as blood dripped past my lips.

His voice sounded blurry when he tried to tell me something, nothing felt real as my legs went weak and his hands touched my sides. The touch made me cry again and I felt him hesitate before something gross was pressed to my mouth and I couldn't tell if I was choking on my blood or his.

After a moment I could feel my body healing from the inside out, physically I felt better but now my mind was spinning. I looked up at him again, I could feel the fear pulsing through my veins when he reached his hand toward me.

This time I didn't freeze.

I was up and out of the room as fast as my legs could move.

I avoided him for a few days, part of me knew he wasn't going to do anything again and that he felt bad about it but the other part of me couldn't help but worry.

It was only when he was attacked again that I willingly sat in the same room as him.

"You okay?" I asked and he looked over to me, he was splattered with blood but at least it wasn’t mine.

"Yeah...I'm okay." He whispered, nodding.

I shifted in my place and he shuffled over on the couch so I could sit on the other end to him. The silence was awkward for a while, actually the entire time.

It was for quite a lot of the times I was near him. I wanted to be there for him, show him I understood but I was still scared and I didn't want to be close enough that he could kill me or hurt me just incase he did.

It was when he was carried in my Elijah, Papa Tunde’s blade in his chest causing him to be immobile and in agonising pain, when I got close again.

Elijah dropped him to the bed with a soft thud and was moving fast. He turned, looking right at me before talking.

“I need you to feed him your blood. It’s laced with vervain, he’ll heal slow. You need to keep him here or he is going to kill Rebekah. I don’t want to burden you, Y/N, but I’m afraid you’re the only who’s even a possibility.” He directed quickly, whilst dragging the blade from his brother’s chest.

“A possibility for what?” I asked, confused and afraid. I didn’t want to give him my blood. It was like asking him to kill me.

“You’re the only person he might listen to.” He explained as he headed for the door. “He won’t hurt you.” He told me and it sounded like a promise before he left.

Klaus let out a groan and I turned, hesitantly walking over to the edge of his bed. I silently dammed myself for being concerned enough to follow Elijah when he carried him in here.

I looked down at him, wincing at the cut that hadn’t healed down the length of his bare chest.

“What…what happened?” I whispered, wanting to reach out to touch but willing myself not to.

“Elijah-“ Klaus grunted, his teeth grinding as he forced words out. “He stabbed me for her.” It was clear that rage was all he felt in that moment as he tried to push himself up, only to let out a cry of pain.

“Rebekah?” I wondered and he seethed.

“She betrayed me. Called Mikael. She wanted me dead!” He yelled, his aggression growing as I felt my hairs stand on edge.

I was quiet, watching him struggle desperately.

I understand why he was so mad, betrayal was a huge thing for him. Abandonment, paranoia. It made him this way and Rebekah used it and ruined all of their lives but I had no doubt she had her reasons…not that I’d tell him that.

“She doesn’t now” I whispered and his had snapped to me. “She loved you now, she’s here now-“

“Only months ago did she stand beside Marcellus and watch as his vampires tried to kill me. She has always wanted me gone. She’s so desperate for Marcel that she’d kill her own brother-“ he snapped and I flinched.

His voice died off when I stepped back and he grunted softly. He was taking fast but deep breaths, trying to gather some stability and I could feel Elijah’s words echoing through me. That I had to let Klaus feed from me.

Reluctantly I shifted closer again, he was quiet as I sat down on the edge of his bed. His body was laid so close to me and his chest moved with each pain-filled breath.

My entire arm shook as I held it out, right infront of his face and it made his skin dance with veins. “Love…” he muttered, his jaw clenching as he inhaled through his nose. “I’m not going to hurt you” he uttered, I could feel his eyes on my but I couldn’t look back at his. “Not again. Just…there’s blood bags downstairs”

“Elijah said I have to use mine, the vervain makes it slower or something? I don’t know…I can’t do it wrong” I pushed my wrist closer, glancing at the fangs that were pushing past his gums.

“He won’t be mad.”

“He’s trusting me.” I whispered, finally looking up to klaus’s eyes and he sighed before slowly nodding.

I almost tugged my arm back when I felt his teeth pierce the skin, the sting making me move but his hand lifted to keep me in place. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he fed, it was such a strange sensation; much less painful than a needle.

As I felt myself weaken, I noticed the wound across his body fixing itself. My eyes started to go and for a second I faltered, my head beginning to drop but his other hand caught my chin and held me up. His fangs retreated back up and something warm and wet slid across my wrist before I was leaned up against him.

“I’m so sorry, love.” He whispered into my ear. “I have to finish what they’ve started.” He told me and I knew he wanted to murder Rebekah and I wanted to talk to him but he’d taken so much blood. His eyes stared straight into mine, reaching into my mind. “You’re going to fall asleep, you’ll wake tomorrow morning and you will feel no pain from this bite. I will heal you when I return. I promise I didn’t take enough to kill you, just to empty you of vervain.”

I wanted to argue, yell or anything but my mind shut down and my eyes wouldn’t stay open. I sunk into myself completely and lay, somehow conscious and unconscious as I tried to wake myself up.

I woke the next morning like he instructed my body to do, I glanced at my wrist to find it wrapped in bandages. My head lifted to see a glass of water, tinted pink by what I assumed was blood beside a small teddybear.

Hesitantly I sipped the drink, feeling instantly better before picking up the toy.

“I thought you’d like it” a voice sounded from the doorway, I glanced to see Klaus. Both his hands were behind his back and a guilty look painted his face.

I pushed myself up, it felt strange being in someone else’s bed; especially Klaus’s.

I didn’t answer him as I got up and pushed past him, shoving the teddy into his chest and going straight to my own room.

For a man who hated betrayal, he sure knew how to commit it.

He knew I was already afraid of him, that I didn’t want to be that close again and he took advantage of the ounce of trust I still had.

I understood him, but I couldn’t do this again. I’d been in this situation too many times.

[cherienymphe]

Like Mother, Like Daughter (Damon Salvatore x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, compulsion, blood, mentions of MURDER, abusive relationship, secret relationship, non canon ages

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies ​

summary: You never imagined that you would find solace in the bloodstained hands of a murderer.

~

“What is that?”

Elena’s concerned tone reached your ears as you worked on your assignment, and you curiously lifted your head. This semester was kicking your ass more than you’d anticipated, so you were hellbent on finishing as many assignments as quickly as possible. You paused your scribbling to follow her line of sight, and your own gaze landed on the dark bruise on your arm.

You blinked at it, silent for a moment before the memory came back to you.

“Oh,” you breathed, shaking your head. “I wasn’t paying attention the other day and my arm got slammed in the door.”

You waved off her concern, reluctantly looking back down at the paper in front of you.

“I was trying to rush and carry a load of laundry in the door.”

The brunette didn’t respond to that, just humming, and you got the feeling that she was skeptical.

“You should probably put something on that…”

You looked up at her, meeting her eyes with a soft smile.

“Okay, mom, I will,” you chuckled.

You were a year older than Elena—a year older than most of your friends actually—but Elena always acted like she was the one older than you. Calling every day to see how school was going, reminding you to eat something when you got too invested in your work, telling you to bring a jacket whenever you went out with them. You loved her for it, especially since your own mom wasn’t around to do that, but sometimes you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Make fun of me all you want, but it just looks serious is all,” she told you.

“I told you, it’s nothing,” you replied, sending her a reassuring smile. “It’ll be gone by next week, anyway.”

Before she could say anything else on the matter, her doorbell rang. Your smile grew as her face lit up, and you shook your head to yourself. You weren’t going to fault her for being so head over heels for Stefan Salvatore. He was handsome and sweet and the kind of boyfriend that any girl would ask for.

“Do you want anything from The Grill?” she asked you, sliding her arms into her jacket as she stood.

“No, thank you.”

You only spared her a brief glance, eager to finish your work as you heard her answer the door. Her excited greeting was cut short, however, and you lifted her head at her sigh. You couldn’t make out what she was saying, but the irritated tone wasn’t hard to miss, and you were unsurprised when a familiar dark-haired man rounded the corner, food dish in hand.

Now, it was your turn for your face to light up, unable to bite back the smile that fell over your lips.

Damon Salvatore struck you as one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen from the first moment he’d breezed into town. He was the opposite of Stefan in almost every way, and you hadn’t blamed a single girl for momentarily losing her sense of self over the man. Looks aside, he was charming and funny and shockingly sweet when he wanted to be.

You wouldn’t be dating him otherwise.

As your train of thought shifted, you forced your smile to drop just in time for Stefan and Elena to round the corner. Damon could be difficult, you’d witnessed that yourself, and Elena, the girl who was like a sister to you, would never approve of you dating the oldest Salvatore. She swore he was the devil incarnate, but you thought that she worried too much.

The small smirk he threw you over their shoulders made your stomach twist.

“…and you just had to bring that by for the Founder’s Party today.”

Elena sounded less than enthused with his presence, halfheartedly telling him where he could set it. You kept your eyes on your homework, unable to ignore the tension in the air. You knew that he and Stefan didn’t get along, but you always felt like that was a sibling thing, something that Elena didn’t need to take on herself.

“He’s just not a good guy,” she’d told you one day when you asked about it, a look in her eyes that told you she wouldn’t be elaborating.

“Look, Damon, we really don’t have all day,” you heard Stefan breathe.

It was clear that they had no intention of leaving while Damon was still here, and you kept your head down.

“You two lovebirds go on ahead,” he told them, tone mirthful. “I need to talk to dear old Aunt Jenna about the Founder’s Party.”

You heard him take a bite of something Jenna had cooked earlier, the leftovers on the stove, and when you glanced up again, it was just in time to see Elena glance at you. She didn’t look the most enthused to just ‘go on ahead’, and her and Stefan exchanged a look.

“Alright… Y/N, you’re almost done, right?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, knowing that she just wanted to confirm you’d be leaving soon. Or more importantly, that you wouldn’t be in Damon’s presence for long.

“Yeah,” you reassured her. “Just two more essay questions to go.”

She nodded at that, glancing at Stefan’s brother one last time before reluctantly leaving. Stefan did the same, telling you they’d see you later before they both left. You straightened, heart skipping a beat as you smiled. You opened your mouth to speak when Damon held a finger up, slowly chewing with a tilt of his head, almost like he was listening…waiting.

“God,” he dramatically dragged out after some time. “I thought they’d never leave.”

You couldn’t hold in your chuckle, and you watched him as he slowly made his way to the table.

“You like riling them up,” you accused.

“Me?” he wondered, touching his chest as he neared you. “…and why would I ever do a thing like that?”

Damon bent over you, slowly and torturously, before his nose touched yours. Your grin widened just as his lip brushed yours, a kiss soon to follow. His fingers brushed your own as he rested his hand on the table, and your lashes fluttered when he deepened the kiss. You’d only been seeing Damon for a few months, but oddly enough, it felt like forever.

It scared you sometimes how strong your feelings were for the oldest Salvatore brother.

They seemingly came out of nowhere.

“Sill choosing collegiate duties over me?” he murmured into your mouth, and you pulled away.

“I have to get this done,” you sadly told him. “I only have the weekend to do it, and a good four hours of that is spent driving home and then back to school.”

You returned your eyes to the paper in front of you just as you felt Damon’s finger trail across your neck.

“I thought you needed to speak with Jenna about the party,” you murmured, a smile on your lips.

“I lied,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear. “You’re way too smart for college if you ask me. Highly overrated.”

You blinked up at him with a frown as he made himself comfortable on the edge of the table.

“You went to college?”

There was some disbelief in your voice, and for good reason, it seemed.

“I’ve been on a college campus, yes,” he answered, arms crossed over his chest.

You couldn’t hold in a laugh at that.

“I’m serious. You have to drive back and forth every weekend just to see me, and I don’t like it.”

There was little humor in Damon’s voice, now, and you gave him a small frown.

“That’s not always true,” you argued. “Sometimes you come to see me.”

He didn’t join in when you chuckled at your bad attempt at humor, and your brows knitted together at the feel of his hand on the place where your neck and shoulder met. He gently kneaded into the skin there, and you slowly looked up at him again. Damon’s expression was serious, pink lips pressed together as he looked between your eyes.

“I miss you when you’re away…”

Guilt ate at you.

“I know,” you whispered. “I miss you too.”

Damon’s tongue darted between his lips, and you watched as he tilted his head to the side, regarding you with a look you couldn’t place. The air between you felt odd…off, and Damon heaved a sigh before leaning in to press his lips to your forehead.

“You’re kidding, right?”

You softly exhaled, pointedly keeping your eyes on your suitcase as you unpacked. You made the mistake of glancing up, meeting Bonnie’s worried gaze as she sat on your bed before her eyes flickered up to Elena over your shoulder.

“I really don’t want to talk about this, okay?”

“You come back to Mystic Falls in the middle of the week unannounced, and when we ask what’s up, you say you’re dropping out of college…and we’re not supposed to question that?”

Elena sounded beside herself, and you ignored them both as you moved to hang some clothes up.

“Y/N!”

“What do you want me to say?” you wondered, facing them both with a frown, throwing your hands up. “It just didn’t feel right, okay? The campus, my major, all of it. I just didn’t feel right being there.”

You noted how robotic your words came out, but it was the truth.

“Plus, the driving back and forth was getting to be too much. I missed being home all the time.”

“Maybe you’re just going through a rough patch,” Bonnie told you. “It happens, but that’s no reason to drop out.”

“I already did,” you argued, grabbing more stuff out of your suitcase. “It’s done.”

Fed up, the straight-haired girl made her way over to you. She roughly grabbed your hands, halting your movements as she forced you to face her. Elena’s eyes were wide and confused as she looked at you, as if trying to see inside of your mind.

As if she didn’t believe you.

“You hear how crazy this sounds, don’t you? This isn’t like you!”

You pulled your hands out of her grip, huffing and continuing to unpack. You could feel both of their eyes on you, and it was hard to ignore, you had to admit.

“What does your dad think about this?”

You hesitated, pausing in your efforts, and you bit your lip.

“I haven’t told him,” you slowly admitted.

“Since when do you hide anything from him?” Bonnie whispered. “You tell your dad everything.”

“Well, I didn’t tell him this,” you heard yourself snapping.

Silence filled the room again as you went back and forth between your suitcase and the closet, taking clothes out and hanging them up. You could tell that Bonnie and Elena were beside themselves, unsure of how else to proceed with this sudden development. You were only glad that Caroline wasn’t here, positive that you would never hear the end of it.

You were halfway to your closet when Elena stopped you again, her hand on your wrist.

You turned to look at her, but her gaze wasn’t on you. At least, not on your face. Her brown eyes were focused on your wrist, and you looked down, frowning in confusion as to what she was looking at. Her lips parted, a deep frown on her face as she blinked at your wrist. When she lifted her gaze again, there was something in her eyes that alarmed you. She looked almost…worried.

“Where is your bracelet?”

That was the last thing you’d expected, and the question threw you.

“What?”

“Your bracelet. The bracelet I gave you a year ago. The one you promised you’d never take off, where is it?”

You wracked your brain, struggling to remember the last time you saw it. You’d worn it so much that the mere sight of it was inconsequential to you, something you just happened to run your eyes over every day. You hadn’t even realized that it was gone, and you realized that it’d actually been months since you at least remembered looking at it, let alone wearing it.

“I must have…lost it somewhere,” you admitted. “It’s either here or back in my dorm, I don’t know. I have to go back tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff, so I’ll look for it then.”

Elena looked like she wanted to say more, her features pinched in concern, and you went back to unpacking before she could say anything more. You hoped that you’d gotten your point across that the school discussion was over, relieved when they didn’t press the issue further. You’d hear enough lecturing from your dad, you didn’t need it from your friends either.

Damon was the only one happy for you.

“If it didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel right,” he agreed hours later.

Your dad had long gone to bed in anger and confusion, reacting just as you expected he would. You hadn’t hesitated to invite Damon inside when he showed up at your house, leading him upstairs. His hands massaging into your shoulders as you told him you weren’t going back.

“You were right. The going back and forth was exhausting, and seeing you for a few hours every week just wasn’t cutting it.”

Damon’s hand was rubbing patterns into your lower back as he lounged across your bed. You sat on the edge, staring at the window.

“It really wasn’t,” the dark-haired man drawled. “…but now…”

He dragged the word out, pulling you back until you were lying down next to him.

“I can have you all to myself.”

Your back met the bed, and Damon raised himself on an elbow to gaze down at you. You smiled at the thought, Damon slowly returning it with a small curve of his own lips. He ran his blue eyes over you, drinking you in as one hand came up to drag a finger across your mouth. He pulled down on your bottom lip, and you knew what he wanted, parting them for him, and you watched the way his eyes dilated at the sight of the tip of his finger slipping inside.

The look on his face had heat twisting deep within your gut, and Damon deeply inhaled before leaning in. His tongue replaced his finger when his mouth met yours, lips moving against yours in a way that made your head spin and toes curl. Damon’s hands found a home on your waist, fingers pressing into you as he dragged them down your frame.

“You smell so good, you know that?” he murmured against your lips.

He rested perfectly between your legs, and you parted them further to accommodate him. He made a humming sound, like he liked that, and your fingers threaded through his dark strands. Your lips parted when his mouth found a place on your neck, leaving kisses over your skin. You were an adult, now, but having sex in your childhood home with your dad right down the hall was pretty bold…and disrespectful.

“Damon,” you breathlessly murmured.

He gently shushed you, leaning back until his nose brushed yours. Your lashes fluttered, and you swallowed as one of his hands rested on your cheek. His blue gaze held yours, and after some time, it was like that was all you could see. Blue filled your vision…until it didn’t, replaced by black, and your whole body sagged underneath his, more relaxed than you’d ever been. Every single thought in your head was put on halt, taking the backburner with one thought above all else.

You wanted to feel every single part of Damon against you.

The thought guided your movements, a drive within you now to get his shirt off. When he kissed you again, you were the one to deepen it, pressing your fingers against his smooth skin. When your shorts came off, Damon rolled you both until you were on top of him. You were breathless when he pulled your shirt off, and he was quick to pull you back down into a kiss once it was.

A low moan escaped your lips when he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck, forcing your head. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, fingers brushing along his skin as his other hand rested on your hip, rolling them against his. Your heart was racing, blood pumping, and you flinched at the sharp pain you felt in your neck.

Liquid fire coursed through your veins soon after, and you could feel yourself trembling on top of him. His fingers pressed into the back of your neck, and your other hand rested on the one on your hip. It was like a current traveling up your body, steadily moving to one place, and when Damon rolled you both back over, you couldn’t get him inside of you fast enough.

You didn’t even mourn the loss of your underwear.

Your back arched when Damon’s hips connected with yours, his cock fitted snuggly inside of you. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed as he lifted your lower half, holding you tight enough to bruise as he pulled out before thrusting back into you. Your hands reached up towards your headboard, nails scraping along the wood while Damon fucked you.

Your neck was on fire, but you paid it no mind, too preoccupied with the fire between your legs instead. You didn’t think you’d ever get tired of the way Damon fucked you, moving your body whichever way he pleased, whichever way suited him and his needs. He treated you like a ragdoll, and you loved it, welcoming the pain and the pleasure.

One of his hands curled around your neck, and you gasped, grasping onto his arm as he leaned his head down. A pinch on your chest, and then you were floating again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer if that were possible. Damon groaned into your skin, and one of your hands lowered to his hair, twisting your fingers in his locks and holding him to you.

“Damon,” you sighed.

You felt so stretched when he was inside of you, so full, and the feel was addicting. Your hips were lowered back down to the bed, Damon’s teeth still in you, and his hands danced up your frame and to your arms. He grabbed onto them, stretching them out along your bed, fingers dancing over your skin before meeting your own hands, intertwining them with yours.

You were so glad that you didn’t have class in the morning.

The feel of the heated mug warmed your hands, fighting off the biting cold that threatened to overtake you. Caroline’s chatter was a comforting buzz in your ear, but it was background noise at most. Your gaze was focused on nothing, staring ahead with your mind a million miles away. The scarf around your neck was soft, and you absentmindedly reached up to touch it.

“Are you listening?”

It took you a moment to realize that she was talking to you, and you blinked. You looked around, noting that three familiar pairs of eyes were all on you. Guiltily, you frowned, realizing that you had in fact not been paying attention. Caroline looked slightly irritated while Bonnie was staring at you in concern. Elena’s countenance was no different.

“What?” you eventually said.

“Sleepover…at Elena’s…Bonnie’s birthday…?”

You blinked in shock, in disbelief that the date was fast approaching, and you’d forgotten.

“Right, I’m sorry, yeah. I’ll bring the cupcakes,” you told them.

“Are you okay?” Caroline suddenly asked, concern bleeding into her own eyes, now. “You just seem so off lately.”

You looked down at that, no need to look up and confirm that Bonnie and Elena were no doubt in agreement. Ever since you’d dropped out of college, they’d been crowding around you more than usual. Trying to drop by every day—something you almost always had to refuse due to Damon’s presence right upstairs—inviting you along with every outing and even subtly bringing school up in the conversation.

“Yeah,” you eventually told her. “Just tired.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. You were tired, you had been pretty often lately, lasting for a day or two at a time before you felt normal again. Caroline seemed to accept that, nodding with a furrow between her brows just as Elena reached into her purse.

“Hey, since you never found your bracelet, I decided to get you a new one…”

You frowned at both her words and the sight of her placing a small jewelry box on the table. Your heart sank at the sight, and you were shaking your head before she finished talking.

“I don’t want anymore jewelry,” you told her to which she frowned.

Elena studied you, tilting her head.

“…but I’m replacing your bracelet.”

She said it slowly, like your words confused her as much as they confused you. You loved jewelry. All of your friends knew that about you, but as you stared at the box, there was a pressing thought in your mind that you didn’t want any more jewelry.

Especially from Elena.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

Your phone vibrated in your pocket before anything else could be said, and you looked down at it. A smile graced your face as you read the text, and you carefully started to grab your things.

“I actually have to go,” you told them, gaze resting on Elena. “I appreciate the gift though.”

You were unsurprised when footsteps were quick to echo yours on your way to the door. A familiar voice calling your name gave you pause, and you turned to face Elena, gaze questioning. Her eyes were full of so many things she wanted to say, but she looked like she didn’t even know where to start.

“What’s going on with you?”

You slowly shook your head.

“I don’t follow…”

She rolled her eyes, head tilted.

“You dropped out of college, you barely spend time with us —and when you do you’re barely here—and you’re always running off at a moment’s notice. Now, you won’t even take the bracelet I’m trying to give you? That bracelet was really important-.”

“I know, and I’m sorry I lost it-.”

“No, you don’t get it,” she sighed. “It’s not about you losing it. It’s just really important that you wear it.”

“Why?” you wondered, and that seemed to have stumped her.

Elena ran her hands through her hair, blowing out a breath before coming up short. Her dark eyes lingered on the scarf around your neck, and she stared at it for what felt like too long. Unsure as to what was happening, you turned towards the door.

“Look, if that’s it, I really have to go-.”

“Is that new?”

She was referring to your scarf, and without thinking, you clutched it, tightening it around your throat.

“No,” you told her. “I’ve had it for a while, now. I’ve just never…”

You trailed off when she moved closer, a deep frown on her face as she leaned in.

“What are you doing?”

She paused at your tone, eyes boring into your own, and something passed through her eyes that made you take another step back.

“Take it off,” she suddenly said, voice but a whisper.

“No,” you told her. “I can’t.”

Your words gave her pause, and her eyes widened slightly at what you said specifically. Her hand lowered, and she ran her eyes over you.

“Why not…?”

Now, it was your turn to pause, mind going a mile a minute as you realized…you didn’t know why not.

“I…don’t know. I just know I can’t take it off,” you whispered.

She looked stricken at your words, although you didn’t understand why, and you watched her swallow.

“Y/N, don’t-.”

“I have to go, Elena,” you hurried out, pushing against her hands as she tried to stop you.

You were quick in making your way to your car, not sparing her a backwards glance as you hopped in. Damon’s text was fresh in your mind when you started the vehicle, not wanting to keep him waiting.

You stared into the foggy mirror, eyes roaming over the bite marks on your skin. Damon was just stepping out of the shower behind you, and you paid him no mind, fingers lightly tracing the bruising. Deep within the recesses of your mind, you knew that this was wrong, that the sight before you was very wrong, but you felt nothing less than calm as Damon came up behind you.

“What’ya doing?” he wondered, almost singing the question as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Looking,” you murmured.

“Well, stop that,” he lightly demanded, gently brushing your hand aside.

Damon leaned his chin on your shoulder, humming as he looked at you in the reflection.

“They healed fast before…right?” you softly asked, knowing they had before.

“I gave you my blood before,” was his answer, and you nodded. “I like seeing them.”

Your eyes met his in the reflection as his confession reached your ears. Now, it was his turn to brush his fingers over them, blue eyes darkening the longer he stared at the bite marks and bruises.

“It’s like a mark, you know?” he said in a small voice. “My mark.”

He turned his head, pressing his lips to your neck.

“I really hate sneaking around in your house, you know.”

You frowned at his words.

“Well, the alternative would be the boarding house…and you said I couldn’t tell anyone about us…”

You reminded him of that, turning around in his arms to face him. Damon blinked at the reminder, eyes rolling towards the ceiling as he thought hard.

“Hmm. I did say that, didn’t I?”

He pursed his lips, stroking your face and drinking you in. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his face, enjoying the sight of it and him. Damon seemed to notice, smirking to himself as he leaned in to gently kiss you.

“Yeah, well…that was before, and now you’re mine and you’re not in college anymore, so you can come and live with me.”

His tone was chipper despite the severity of what he was suggesting, and your eyes widened.

“My dad would kill me,” you breathed.

Damon exhaled, a small smile on his pink lips as his hands came down on your bare shoulders. He traced patterns into your skin with his thumbs, and you felt yourself relaxing as you held his gaze.

“You leave your dad to me…okay?”

You slowly nodded, not quite sure why you were agreeing. You were so young, and Damon and you were too new to be moving in together. It seemed insane, but you felt okay with the decision as he brushed his fingers over your face.

“I just worry about him,” you confessed. “Ever since my mom’s death… He’s just always so alone.”

Damon frowned at you at that, blue gaze sympathetic,

“It’s been what…? Twelve years now?”

You didn’t recall ever telling him how long it had been, but you nodded, anyway, heart clenching at the faint memories of a woman you barely got to know. His arms were secure around you as he assured you that everything would be alright. You didn’t doubt that. After all, when it came to Damon, you had perfect love and perfect trust.

Damon had breezed into your life like the wind, and now you couldn’t imagine a life without him. You knew that Elena—none of your friends really—would approve, and you were wholly prepared to never hear the end of it once you moved in together. They would freak out, but Damon had never been anything but good to you.

He never hurt you when he bit you, and the bruises were only from him holding you too tight in bed. He’d been right to suggest dropping out of college. It had been taking up so much time, and you really did hate going back and forth. Something in the far back of your mind was telling you that Damon having so much control over you and your life was wrong, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

Especially when he kissed you so passionately and held you so tightly.

Damon touched you like he didn’t ever want to let you go, and you loved it. You loved the feel of his lips on your skin, of his fingers around your ankles, and of his teeth in you. You couldn’t help but to trace the veins that appeared beneath his eyes at the very thought of tasting you. Nothing made you happier than letting him sink his teeth into your thigh while you writhed on your bed, fingers tightly twisting into his dark strands.

There was something entirely other about being a source of satisfaction for Damon in more ways than one.

It was why you weren’t listening to a word Elena said as you packed up your car.

“He is compelling you,” she stressed, eyes wide and tearful. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

“Elena, please…”

“You would never just drop out of school! Did he give you that bruise too? The one on your arm?”

“Leave it alone,” you told her, slamming your door closed.

She prevented you from rounding the car, hand tight on your arm. Elena looked terrified as she studied you, taking in the circles beneath your eyes no doubt.

“How long?”

She seemed to be wondering to herself rather than talking to you.

“How long since you ‘lost’ that bracelet? How long since you haven’t been wearing vervain and Damon’s been feeding off of you-?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You pushed past her, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“No,” she argued, trying to pull you out of the car. “Y/N, you can’t. Let me call Stefan, and he’ll make you remember everything-.”

Her words were cut off with a loud gasp, and you sharply inhaled too. A familiar back was before you, Damon standing between you both, and you looked around his shoulder, watching as Elena took a few steps back. Her entire visage was clouded in anger, and she looked at Damon like he was the devil himself.

“What have you done to her?”

Damon tilted his head with a happy hum, reaching back to rest his hand on your waist. He half turned towards you, guiding you to get back in the car. You met Elena’s worried gaze, and she looked like she wanted to take a step towards you.

“What I do with Y/N is, quite frankly, none of your business.”

“Damon…”

He paused at the sound of your voice, briefly turning to look at you with a waggle of his brows.

“It’s alright,” he told you, briefly touching your chin. “I’m just politely telling Elena that our sordid love affair doesn’t involve her or Stefan or anyone else for that matter.”

“This isn’t love! You’re hurting her and keeping her with you against her will,” she spat at him. “What is wrong with you, Damon? Why…? Why her when she’s done nothing to you?”

You grew nervous when Damon grew silent. He took a few steps towards Elena, and when he spoke, his voice was cold, venomous, nothing at all like how he sounded with you in the privacy of your bedroom.

“I wanted her…and so I took her,” he plainly told your friend, and you frowned. “Diagnose me as a killer returning to the scene of the crime or a lovesick fool, pick your poison, but she is mine, and I’ll be damned if I give her up.”

Something about what he said—or how he said it—had Elena’s lips parting, and she stumbled back, looking between you and him in horror. Before either of you could blink though, Damon had closed your door and was already sitting in your passenger seat. Elena was banging on the locked door as he told you to drive, and gazing into his eyes, you were overcome with the urge to do what he suggested.

You slid down onto his cock again, a moan escaping you as Damon’s arms circled your waist. Blood ran down your torso, excess escaping Damon’s mouth as his teeth pressed into your chest. One of his hands came up to smear it along your skin, loving the feel of it against his own skin. You felt like you were floating on cloud 9, fingers tightening in his hair, your other hand pressing into his shoulder.

You hadn’t left Damon’s room in days, having no desire to. All you wanted was to stay in his bed, and Damon was all too happy to let you. Your phone had long been out of sight, none the wiser to any calls and texts you might’ve missed. You didn’t know what Damon said to your dad to make him over the moon with the idea of you moving in with the older Salvatore brother, but you were beyond grateful.

If any of your friends had ever come by, you didn’t know.

You were in your own world with just you and Damon, and you couldn’t be happier. When you came around him, shuddering with broken moans escaping, Damon finally pulled his head away. His lips were covered in blood, and before where the sight of it used to make your stomach turn, you felt no ill will at the red along his lips. You touched his mouth, fascinated by the sight.

He opened his mouth, and when a sharp tooth pricked your finger, fresh blood touching his tongue, he flipped you.

Your chest arched upwards towards the ceiling, nails clawing at the sheets of the feel of him thrusting into you again. His teeth were in your neck, pinning you between him and the bed, and you couldn’t hold in your mewls.

“You taste…divine,” he breathed sloppily kissing you. “Do you know that?”

You weren’t bothered by the taste of blood in your mouth, always so calm and at ease in Damon’s presence. As he lazily plunged his cock into you, thrusts slow and languid, a thought passed through your mind that you couldn’t help but to voice.

“Are you… Are you going to kill me one day?”

You knew what he’d told Elena, and the thought didn’t scare you, but your curiosity got the better of you.

“Kill you?” he lowly wondered, kissing you again. “…and ruin all my fun?”

He smiled into your lips, and you returned it.

“I meant what I said,” he told you, gazing into your eyes. “You’re mine, and I’ll be damned if I give you up.”

That reassured you, and you relaxed beneath him when another question plagued your thoughts. It must’ve been all over your face because Damon brushed his nose against yours.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he whispered, and you searched his eyes.

“When you said…”

You took a deep breath, confusion plaguing your thoughts as you fought to understand his words on your own.

“When you said…a killer returning to the scene of the crime…” Damon took a deep breath. “What did that mean?”

Damon didn’t answer you for what felt like a long time, and at first, you thought he simply wouldn’t. When he moved, you hissed at the feel, and he slowly grabbed your hands, pinning them beside your head. Damon gazed into your eyes, blue turning to black as it filled your vision, and you were completely frozen beneath him, feeling like you were under a spell.

“Twelve years ago…” he slowly started. “I ran into a woman whose car broke down on the side of the road.”

Somehow, you knew what he was going to say, and to your surprise, your heart wasn’t threatening to leap from your chest. You felt so calm, safe beneath him despite the tears that kissed your eyes.

“I killed her, and it meant nothing to me…”

You didn’t blink, and neither did he.

“…but then I came here twelve years later, and I never expected to meet her daughter…and call it guilt or some twisted desire to be a demented monster, but I want you all to myself.”

His hands tightened on your wrists.

“…and you want me too. You love me, and you have never felt safer than when you’re with me.”

“I always feel safe with you,” you mindlessly murmured, your voice sounding foreign to you.

“You love me.”

“I love you.”

“…and you would kill yourself before ever letting anyone take you away from me.”

His deep baritone settled in your brain like a warm hug, and you slowly nodded. Learning that Damon killed your mom should’ve terrified you, but he was right. You never felt safer than when you were with Damon, and when he leaned in to kiss you, his lips covering yours, you welcomed it. He slowly let your hands go, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap them around his neck, holding him close.

Your blood was on his lips, and the sight warmed your heart, happy to make Damon happy.

[russellsppttemplates]

A red thread tying you to me (Charles Leclerc)

There was something pulling you to him and Charles was ready to act on it

Note: english is not my first language. I loved the blurb and now we have a big piece too!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions the death of reader's father's and Charles' father's deaths

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"The congress is just outside of Milan, the exact city and details are in there", your colleague Lucia offered as she flickered though the pages, "I've been a couple of times before and it's really enriching, I just know you'll love the students and the department head - she was my supervisor for a couple of years".

"It sounds great", you looked at the panel information and then the travel details, "it's such a shame you can't come with me though, but I also wouldn't want to risk your little dude showing up and have me as your midwife", you chuckled as Lucia rubbed her baby bump.

"You're capable of many things, Y/N, but I would prefer if the fate of my baby and my underparts was in the hands of a professional!", she bumped your shoulder, "and the area is really nice too, I'm sure you'll find something to keep you busy during the weekend".

"I have plans, actually, I'll be fine I think", you smiled.

Like Lucia predicted, you had a great time in the conference and the guest lecture you gave was applauded and discussed for nearly an hour after you showed the last slide of the presentation, topics going back and forth until everyone had to absolutely leave the room before the next lecture began. For now, you'd get to enjoy the region, drinking some wine and taking in the views you recognised.

The park where your father used to take you didn't look too different. The slides didn't look rusty anymore, and the swing was a bright red colour as you sat on it once you didn't see any other kid around who might want to use them and let yourself feel the breeze on your face and hair as you kicked your legs in and out. Your father used to make you feel like you could touch the sky with how high he helped you go, "you're going to touch the clouds, mia piccola stella", he would say and you would laugh loudly.

You missed him every single day, but over the years, your grief allowed you remember all of the happy moments you lived with him, cherishing them close to your heart. Spending the whole weekend in Monza and attending the race was something you hadn't done without him since he passed away. The circuit was your father's favourite - "it's the fans, Y/N, there's a thrill in the air that no other circuit has - Tifosi cover the streets, they're all you can see around town and it's magical almost" he would say to you, so when you noticed the conference was in the area and coincided with the Grand Prix weekend, both you and your mother agreed you should take the opportunity.

On your way back to the hotel, you stopped by the track, wondering what the preparations for a race weekend looked like after so many years. You still followed the sport, but you never got the chance to catch this on television.

"Oh my, oh my", you heard someone say beside where you were standing, "I can't believe my eyes, it's Y/N Y/L/N".

Turning around you spotted Salvatore, one of the mechanics your father worked with. He also had kids around your age and you would often play together whenever you were both in the garage for the weekend.

"Salvatore!", you cheered, giving him a big smile after kissing each of his cheeks, "you better believe your eyes then".

"It's been so long since I've seen you last", he recalled, rubbing your back softly. You and your mother had gone to Maranello for a tribute ceremony the team had for your father - that had been the last time he saw you.

"It has been, yes - I'm sorry", you apoligised. You told the team you'd be around and so much had happened since and you only watched it through a screen instead of living it in the flesh.

"It's okay, it was the time you needed - What brought you to Monza this weekend?", he wondered as he walked inside the paddock with you, scanning his card and getting you both in.

"A work trip actually - I finished a conference yesterday and I also gave a lecture at the university", you nodded, "and my father always loved Monza", you smiled at the memory, "he knew how cliché that sounded, but he always said there wasn't a better weekend on the calendar. And I've missed the rush, too", you offered, letting the tears flow freely and accepting them even though you were in the middle of the paddock, loud noises coming from every angle as the teams prepared the finishing touches for the upcoming race.

"He's very proud of you, I'm sure", Salvatore comforted, "and everyone will be happy to see you here - the little girl with the high pigtails is a grown woman now who attends conferences and gives lectures, who would've known?", he joked as you stepped inside the garage.

"Is this little troublemaker Y/N Y/L/N?", one of the oldest mechanics said after he applied a sticker to the halo.

When your father took you to the races, everyone knew they had fun guaranteed with you, always pulling pranks and laughing loudly, "my troublemaker days are over, I'm a responsible woman now", you chuckled, giving a quick wave to everyone before greeting everyone individually.

"Do you have tickets for this weekend?", Fred asked. Even though he had just met you, it was clear to him how much you mattered to everyone who worked with your father, "we can get you a pass, I'm sure".

"I have grandstand tickets", you stated.

"Silvia!", the team principal called the woman, making her approach him and rub your arm kindly, "do we have any guest passes left?".

"Let me check", Silvia mumbled, "we have one left, actually! Charles didn't even notice he asked us to save a ticket for his mother twice - I'll get it for you, it's in the meeting room upstairs", she smiled.

"Charles will also be very happy to see you around, did you tell him you were coming?", Salvatore mentioned.

"I haven't actually - I've been really busy", you mumbled.

You met the monégasque driver when he was Scuderia Ferrari's development driver and Prema Racing driver in Formula Two, accidentally running into him in the dining area of the hospitality and ending up spending most of his free time there throughout the whole weekend.

Quickly, it became a tradition to do so whenever he was over and whenever he was done with his Formula Two duties and you happened to be at the same track.

When you stopped attending races because the memories were too painful, you lost contact, opting to react to eachother's Instagram stories every now and again and sending quick messages through the social media app.

"The boys arrive today, but they're only coming to the track tomorrow", Fred added, "you'll have plenty of time to catch up".

Charles had finally arrived to the hotel after all the flights and drives, thankful that there weren't many fans around already and he could get inside without a hitch, checking in and getting his room keys.

"Hold it, per favore!", he said to the person on the lift, dreaming of the changing from his travel outfit and the bed waiting for him. When his hand helped him inside the metal door, he couldn't believe his eyes, "Y/N?".

He could remember the last time he saw you. He had just started his first season as a Formula One driver for Alfa Romeo and you had come back to the paddock for the first race of the season like you promised you would. He sat with you whenever he had a little break, you caught up with him and his early days as a driver with a seat rather than just watching from the sidelines.

"Charles, hi!", you gasped, hugging him and feeling him squeeze your body against his.

"I- what are you doing here? Are you here for the race?", he wondered. This couldn't be a mere coincidence. He hoped it wasn't.

"I had a work trip here that coincided with this weekend, and I thought of it as a sign", you explained, "you're staying in this hotel too?".

"Yes, the team are at the one where we usually stay for the weekend, but until Thursday, I'm staying here, yes", he smiled, "Goodness, I feel like it's both been forever and like it was yesterday", he chuckled, "do you want to get a drink? I have a nice selection in my room whenever I stay", he offered.

"I'd love to, Charles", you said, hoping that the tingly feeling on your tummy mirrored Charles' own excitement at this unexpected but valued encounter, "are you sure though? You just arrived".

"No, don't worry about that! My room is... 705", he checked on the card he was handed, "so you can join me now or maybe you want to set those things down first and meet me there?", he pointed to the bag you were carrying.

"Yes, this is quite heavy actually", you blushed, "my room is on this floor, so I'll meet in your room in fifteen? I need to freshen up because I've been walking around town all day".

Leaving the elevator on your floor, Charles waved at your before the doors closed andyou headed to your door. Stepping inside, you left the totebag with the books you bought in the chair before heading to the bathroom, brushing out any tangles in your hair and splashing your face with water to freshen up.

After getting yourself ready to go, you went up to Charles' floor, knocking on the door and waiting for him.

"Come in, come in!", Charles offered after he opened the door, "I've unpacked but kept it very organised still", he chuckled as you walked inside the room. It looked the same as yours did, only a different colour pallette for the decoration.

"How have you been?", you wondered once you sat down and shared some sparkling water, neither of you really feeling like drinking anything alcoholic.

"You surely know more about me than I know about you", Charles smiled, "but it's been good, this season has been great so far, I feel like we're in a really good path and things are working well", he took a sip from his cup, "the team have done such an incredible job".

"And the driver on the car doesn't have anything to do with that?", you squinted at his ever so modest take on things.

"I suppose I do", he blushed.

"I may have not been here, but I've watched every race - minus some of the ones at daft o'clock, I only watched those when my sleep was all messed up", you joked, "you're an essential part of this team, Charles, everyone can see that so you should give yourself more credit", you touched his arm.

Even though it had been years since you last saw eachother, you hit it off immediately and it seemed like no time had passed.

"And you? What is this work trip that brought you here?", Charles nodded.

"You're not the only one who gets to travel for work, alright?", you tsked, "I had to do a presentation on a conference and then the department invited me for a lecture, nothing big".

"Who's being ever so modest now, hm? That is fantastic, mon ange!", he congratulated before he noticed the words coming out of his mouth.

"When I noticed it fell around this weekend, I told my mum and she said that I should try and dip my foot here - I've been wanting to come to race sooner but...", you trailed off.

"I get it - it's hard going to the places that remind you of them", Charles took his hand in yours and squeezed it, "he was so cherished by the team, I'm sure everyone will be very happy to see you".

"Actually, I walked to the track today so I could see it up close before the race - I hoped it wouldn't be such a big shock once I got there on Friday -, and I bumped into Salvatore", you smiled, "he let me go into the garage and I saw everyone, it was really nice", you looked up so the tears on your eyes wouldn't fall.

"I can get you a pass, let me just text Silvia!", Charles said as he got his phone from his pocket with his free hand.

"She already did", you chirped, "apparently you booked two for your mother, so they had a spare one".

"You see, a couple of years ago, my mum was too late to tell me she was coming to the race and I was out of the guest passes, so I always have one on hold for her and I sent the list with her name on it as well", he admitted, "but it seems to have turned out just fine - meant to be even".

You ended up requesting room service for the two of you for dinner, neither feeling like going out of the room after feeling so comfortable there. Conversation was steady, vulnerability was easy to show and the butterflies were happily dancing on your tummy.

"I better get to my room, then", you stated once Charles told you about what he needed to do tomorrow once he was at the track.

"I didn't mean it that way - I'm fine!", he said after doing his best attempt at containing a big yawn, "I'm fine!".

"You're tired, and frankly so am I", you admitted as you got up from the bed.

"Would you like to come with me to the track tomorrow? If you don't have other plans that is", he mumbled the last part.

"I don't - I was just going to work a little bit, but if you find me a spot in the hospitality, I'll happily take my stuff there", you smiled reassuringly as you put on your shoes and headed to the door.

"I can take you to your room", Charles got up from the bed and followed you.

"No need, my room is just downstairs", you reasoned, kissing his cheek in a silent thank you still.

"That's right - so we'll go tomorrow after breakfast?", he rested his body on the door once you opened it.

"Yes, that works for me! Good night, Charles", you smiled before walking up to the elevator.

.

Walking inside the hospitalitynwith Salvatore and the rest of the team, he was quick to show you where you could set up.

"Charles likes to spend as much time as possible with the fans and it's right about now that they start becoming more and more and they're everywhere, too", he explained as he helped you in the table on the lounge area, "there's food and coffee in there if you need anything", Salvatore smiled, "if you need anything, just ask someone".

"Thank you - this is perfect", you assured, sitting down and working on your laptop and reading some of the books you had bought.

Charles and Carlos finally arrived at the hospitality, greeting the team and talking to them for a while before they headed upstairs for a meeting.

"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend and you were bringing her here", Carlos told Charles as he poured some coffee on a mug after the meeting.

"I don't - I haven't brought a girlfriend here", Charles quirked an eyebrow at his team-mate.

"So who is that young woman you just smiled at and are pouring coffee for after giving her the heart eyes?", it was the spanish driver's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Oh, Y/N!", Charles smiled as he mentioned your name, "she's an old friend! Her father was a mechanic before he passed away a few years ago - the older team members have known her since she was little, everyone loves her", he mused.

"Everyone loves her - I can see that", Carlos chuckled as he followed Charles to the table.

"We don't want to interrupt or disturb you too much", Charles announced as he set the mug next to your laptop.

"It's fine, sit sit!", you encouraged as you closed the books you no longer needed to make room for them, "I'm Y/N", you told Carlos.

"I'm Carlos", he smiled back, "nice to meet you", he said before you dove into conversation, discussing anything that popped into your minds and getting to know eachother.

"Don't let her fool you into believing she has always been a responsible, put together girl because she used to steal and hide all of our tools!", Antonio, one of the engineers pointed at you after he got himself a bottle of water, "Charles knows her tricks already but you, Carlos, don't fall for that!".

"You loved it every time I was on the computers and drew on Paint! You even had one of my drawings as the background for almost an entire season!", you threw at him as he approached you, patting the top of your head protectively.

"I'd like to see that! I've only known her since she was way older", Charles pouted.

"Jealous much?", Carlos teased, his voice above a whisper as Charles seemed to get flustered.

"Is it really that obvious?", the monégasque driver mumbled once you got up to get something to eat, "I've had a crush on her since I was a development driver".

"Why have you never said anything? She seems like she really cares about you too", Carlos mused as he thought to a few moments before where you too gqve him heart eyes. He would have to be blind to not notice it, and even then the energy between you too would still be felt.

"The timing wasn't right, I guess - her father passed away almost right after as I became a driver for Alfa Romeo, and she hasn't been in the paddock since. We have texted every now and again over the years and now she happened to be here for the race too", Charles offered.

"I'd say you should take a shot - trust me, she likes you back", Carlos patted Charles' shoulder after getting up, watching you go back to the table with a big smile on your face.

.

After Charles took pole position in qualifying, the team stayed a bit longer for the debrief, going over a few points of the discussion and the changes they still needed to make before the race.

"Y/N! We're having dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in town and I'm counting you in, okay?", Charles said as he spotted you in the garage, followed by Andrea, who had been keeping you company along with his brothers, Charlotte and Pascale.

"Your family is here for you, Charles, I don't want to intrude", you said as you got up, unaware of the Leclerc matriarch behind you.

"Chérie, of course you won't be intruding - we'd love to have you there!", Pascale chirped in.

"Well, in that case...!", you smiled, "just tell me where I should go and at what time, or are we going straight there?", you wondered.

"I was thinking we could go straight there if that's okay with you - you can can come with me and Andrea can ride with my brothers", Charles suggested, "unless you need to go back to the hotel", he quickly scrambled.

"No, I'm fine! Unless this outfit is not restaurant appropriate", you muttered as you looked down. Against all odds, you managed to not get any food stains on your dress. It was a midi skirt cut, flowy to allow your body to feel cool considering the warm Italian day.

"It's fine - you're fine, you look beautiful!", Charles was quick to assure you.

"Good, that's good then", you smiled before excusing yourself to go and get your things.

"You have to tell her, Charles - your affection is no use to either of you if you keept it in here", Pascale tapped her son's chest.

.

"Y/N", Charles called you before he had to go and get ready for the race, "I have something for you - we do", he said as some of the mechanics, including Salvatore, followed him.

"Oh, what is it?", you smiled.

"We commented with some guys back at the factory that you were here with is this weekend and they found something we thought you'd like to have", Salvatore said as he handed you a bag.

Looking inside, you noticed an old Ferrari cap and some embroidered lettering on the side, recognising it immediately. When you were a teenager, you decided to try different hobbies and hand embroidery was the one that stuck the most, so much so that on one of the race weekends, you embroidered caps for everyone on the team that asked you.

"My wife remembered the one I have at home and then the guys at Maranello found your father's and apparently one you did for Charles' as well", Salvatore offered as you took them both out.

"Dad always said he had plenty of embroidered things at home and this one was the one he had to travel with him", you chuckled as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling Charles soothingly rub your back.

"I remember getting this and loving it - I thought I had lost it!", Charles said, unaware if how close he was pulling you together so he could get a peek at the old caps.

"There's some loose string here", you chuckled, wiping the tears and fiddling with the red thread, "I didn't know how to properly tie it at the start, I kept losing it - I think I even glued it down at some point. Thank you for bringing this out", you smiled.

"Would you mind if I wore this for the driver's parade?", Charles asked you.

"I was planning on wearing my dad's while I watched the race", you offered, testing the fabric and placing it on your head before doing the same with Charles, fixing it on his head and looking up at him.

You never got over how handsome he was. The little scar on his cheek, his mole, the smile that never failed to make you smile, his beautiful green eyes. His kindness, his gentleness, his talent - there wasn't a way to deny how much you liked it. How much you liked him.

"We will be matching then!", Charles squeezed you against him before going to his driver's room.

Only when Charles was headed to take P1 on the grid did he hand the cap back to Salvatore and put on his helmet, giving you a wink before he left.

"How are you feeling?", Pascale asked as she sat next to you to watch the race. Over the last couple of days, she had grown close to you, not only because you had captured her son's heart and she wanted to get to know you, but also because Charles had told her how emotionally charged it was for you to be at the track, in Monza nonetheless.

"It's a lot", you admitted, "everyone has been so kind and warm, so all of the heavy feelings have been slowly infiltrating the good ones and it's been easier to deal with them like that", you blinked away a few tears.

"I get it", Pascale nodded, "losing someone is not easy, and I can't imagine what it feels like for you - the boys and I talk about my late husband every now and again and it gets easier to talk about it, I think that's what it is anyway".

"Yes, definitely like that. My mum and I have reached the point where we don't cry at every mention - despite what you might have noticed this weekend", you chuckled.

"It's emotional, chérie - I, for one, always cry whenever the boys achieve their goals. Hervé isn't here to see them, but I know he knows, and the boys know how proud he is of them", Pascale smiled, keeping some tears at bay too.

"You raised amazing young men, don't doubt that", you let out. At this point, you were sure she had noticed or had at least an inkling. As any mechanic for the red team who knew you since you were a kid would say, you were never a good liar - anytime you said you didn't touch something, they knew to look in your backpack first.

"Thank you, dear", she added, "you know, Charles is quite careful in who he lets in, but he's never been good at hiding how much he cares about someone and I can tell he cares a great deal about you".

"I care a lot about him too", you smiled before you were handed a pair of headphones each with the race about to start.

When Charles successfully kept the cars behind him away with a good gap, you clapped and watched the remaining laps number get smaller and smaller until there was only the current lap left.

Charlotte held your hand together with hers as you watched Charles be the first driver to see the checkered flag and when Xavi yelled "And P1!" into the radio, you did your happy dance, not having a care in the world about what others thought as you watched the Tifosi erupt in cheer.

"He did it! He did it!", Pascale clapped for her son, Arthur hugging her while Lorenzo did the same with his girlfriend while you softly touched your father's embroidered name on your cap with your fingers.

Running up to Parc Fermé, you stood in the sea of red, waiting for him to come back and hug them.

"You did so well, congratulations!", you said as you pulled Charles for a hug.

"Had my good luck charm with me!", he smiled back, kissing your cheek as he took advantage of you being shielded by the mechanics and engineers.

The team celebratory dinner was going really well, everyone happy with how the weekend panned out with both drivers on the podium and enjoying the meal on the restaurant's outside patio.

"If you guys want dessert, they're going to set them out on that table and you can grab as much as you like", Fred spread the message as you could see all kinds of sweet foods being brought out, a pudding catching your eye along with some raspberries.

You and Charles got the dessert plates and served yourselves, noticing the staff was already clearing up the tables, meaning you'd have to move to the bar area, many people opting to skip dessert and get some drinks instead.

"You can see the stars so clearly tonight", you mused as you looked up at the sky, setting your plate on the high table.

"My father always said that the stars did shine brighter here, and tonight the sky is very clear", Charles hummed in agreement, looking at your face. The moonlight and the dim lighting for the lamps and fairy lights illuminated all your features perfectly - your smile as you looked up formed the dimples on your cheeks, your eyes that were a tiny bit squinty and the way your whole body seemed relaxed.

The goosebumps on your arms caught his eye though, "here, have this", Charles said as he offered you the cardigan he had carried around all night since according to him his mother made him do it because it would be cold.

"Thanks", you smiled as you pulled the sleeves and folded them around your wrist so they would fit better, "this is really comfy, I might steal this if you don't ask for it back", you joked.

"I don't mind if you keep it, you have had my heart all these years", Charles stated. There it was.

"What?", you faced him, heart beating fast inside your chest.

"It's true, I've had a crush on you since I first met you, and these past couple of days have been amazing, and I can't believe it took me all these years to realize how I truly feel about you Y/N", he told you, no stutter or sign of regret on his face.

"I haven't been around, really, it's my fault", you fiddled with your thumbs before looking at him again, "but I can't lose you again".

"You never lost me, amour", he smiled as his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his hand cupping your cheek your mouth pressed on his, ignoring everything and everyone around you.

Interrupting the kiss for air, Charles giggled as you hid your face in his neck once you heard the cheers and whistles, your lashes tickling him as his arms circled your waist and pulled you closer to him.

"He wins inside the track and outside of it, Charles Leclerc, P1 to Y/N's heart!", Carlos shouted before whistling again.

"Just so you know, I want an invite to your wedding!", Salvatore pointed his finger at you, "I still remember when you invited me for your wedding with Vettel!".

"You and Seb?", Charles chuckled once you pulled away from his neck.

"Sebastian was my favourite when I was little", you giggled, hiding your face on Charles' chest this time, "when he was back in RedBull still, I asked my father to ask him if he could take a photo with me and I cherished that for so many years - it was my most prized possession!".

"I can't promise you Seb, but I can promise you the very best of me", Charles said as he kissed the top of your head.

[theconstantsidekick]

Lit Cigarettes (Part 1)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x BestFriend!Reader, Damon Salvatore x Stefan Salvatore x Sister!Reader (mentioned) Genre: Angsty Fluff

Summary: Y/n decides that Dean Winchester really needs to know how she feels about him.

(Set after the events of Supernatural season 4 and yes, Y/n is technically a Salvatore. I love the adopted sibling trope, can you tell?)

a/n: I have another part in mind if this does well.

Warnings: Smoking, mentions of smoking, romanticisation of smoking, a lot of that yes, sorry. Don't smoke kids.

Part 2 is here

He used to light her cigarettes when she was too busy talking. That’s what love is. According to her, that is the truest, most genuine form of love. The idea might sound quite contradictory, somehow. But it would make sense to smokers all around the world. 

The thought that somebody would just pluck the cigarette out of your hand, light it, take a little puff to keep the light aflame and just place it back between your index and middle finger. That’s somehow so painfully selfless that it can’t be classified as anything other than the most romantic act known to mankind. 

Now, the tragedy of it all was that that was the only showing of love she ever got from him. All she ever got was a lit cigarette handed off to her while she was too invested in spewing absolutely random bullshit about the sensors on automatic doors at some blackwater motel in an unnamed town. He’d do it quietly. He wasn’t quiet but there was always a quietness about him. Not quiet in the truest definition of the word. He was quiet in a different way, he talked. He was always charming, never not charming. He smiled and charmed everyone further still, but it felt like a very well rehearsed performance. His words, his charm, his smile seemed rehearsed, practiced relentlessly. A stark contrast to how they talked, when he talked to her and just her. Or well, so she thought until she found out that he could talk with a genuine smile to just about anyone unless there was a room full of people. Until the day she found that out, she felt quite special about it.

She felt important to him, enough for him to talk around her more, smoke around her more and light her cigarettes when she was too busy talking.

He never smoked around anyone else, hid the bad habit from his brother, but never her. It made her feel like there was a precarious unspoken bond between the two of them that could break at the mere mention of it. Could it?

She’s going to find out.

“Dean,” she calls out in no urgency, with a quiet calm. They are packing up their things, leaving the small motel room behind for another one in another town. Sam’s out at the reception, settling the bill. He’ll be back soon, she needs to wrap this up before he comes back. 

“Yeah?” Dean answers, never looking up from the duffle bag he’s aggressively shoving his clothes into.

“I love you.”

Dean’s motion halted at once. He doesn’t move, she thinks maybe he can’t move.

“Dean?”

The man in front of her gulps, audibly. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” It feels important to reiterate in this case. 

“I—” Words seem to be straining him. “I heard you the first time.”

“Good,” she tells him and then resumes packing her shit. But there’s a few more things to add, “I know we don’t talk about it, I know we aren’t supposed to. I know you’ve always known that I loved you and we still never talk about it, which means you don’t feel the same way, which again, I know. I am not trying to change your mind, I’m not trying to get into your pants. I’m certainly not asking you to love me back. I am not asking for anything actually, so you can quit looking so fucking terrified. I just needed to tell you because you up and died and it felt like my life stopped, like I couldn’t fucking breathe anymore. I felt hollow and broken and it felt wrong to be alive…” He looks at her then. Her voice is so thick with emotions, even though she is trying to keep them at bay, he must have felt compelled to look at her, she muses.

Shaking her head, she exhales audibly. “But you’re back now and I just needed to say it. I’ve loved you since I first saw you when I was 13. I don’t know how to not be in love with you, trust me, I’ve tried. So, I've learnt to make peace with it. I definitely don’t need you to say something, I just needed you to know that I love you, always have, most probably I always will. I need you to know that you are loved.”

There is silence then, no words, just the sound of her footsteps as she goes around the room picking up things she wants to shove into her bag.

“I…” Dean tries. But the words fade away just as quickly as the thoughts strike him. She looks at him for a second but the silence that proceeded makes her look away. She has just dropped a huge bomb, not that it was some revelatory information but it was something they had avoided talking about for literally ever, so it was fair that he needed some time to come up with a response. She is more than happy to give it to him.

But then Sam walks back into the room. “I’m pretty sure the dude at the reception thinks we’re a freaking thruple.” He walks to the washroom to collect his toiletry pouch and begins packing as well. “I mean, I’m not sure I can blame him? But I want to?” He shrugs. “Dean and I really don’t look all that alike, maybe that’s it? But this is like, the seventh motel in a row that’s given me really weird looks, you know? I don’t know whether to be flattered or plain disgusted—” His words drop off, as he finally notices the atmosphere in the room.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks looking from his brother to his best friend.

“Yes,” Dean replies at the same time as she says, “No.”

“NO?!” Dean balks at her.

“Can you guys drop me off at the bus stop? I gotta head to Mystic Falls,” she says, zipping up her bag and exiting the room.

Dean follows her instantly. “Mystic Falls? I thought you weren’t talking to your brothers?” Running up to catch up with her, he races even further ahead to open the trunk of his car for her. 

“Yeah, but that was last week,” she tells him as if that was enough explanation. She places her bag in the trunk.

“They kicked you out!” Dean seems on edge. She can’t completely understand why. 

She looks at him. “It’s Stef’s birthday.”

“He’s had a couple hundred of those,” Dean argues.

She smiles, “I hope he has a couple hundred more, and I’ll try to attend them all.”

“Damon forgot yours!” 

She shrugs. “I’ll pretend to forget his. But this is Stefan. And besides, Caroline invited me. You want me to bail and piss her off?”

He slams the trunk shut. “Fine!” He acquiesces, albeit very aggressively. “But I’m dropping you to the Boarding House, not a fucking bus stop.”

Meanwhile, Sam comes out, carrying his own luggage as well as Dean's—who had apparently completely forgotten about it. He opens the trunk again, eyeing Dean and her very suspiciously.

She moves to open the back door of the Impala. “You’re going to Ohio, it’s like a three hour detour.”

“It’s two hours with me behind the wheel. Get in,” he commands, leaving no room for any argument. 

“I was doing that anyway,” she says almost to herself, getting in the back. 

Dean stops her. “Get in the front. Sam’ll sit in the back.”

“I will?” Sam questions, lost.

Dean doesn’t care. He just gets in the driver seat, not waiting on either of the two. A look passes between Sam and her. He raises a brow in question, she just smiles and shrugs again in response and gets in.

Later, when Sam’s already asleep in the backseat, Dean clears his throat.

“So.”

She doesn’t turn around to look at him, she isn’t sure she was supposed to, and it’s drizzling, she doesn’t want to turn away from the window, not yet. “So.”

She can feel him shift uncomfortably next to her. “You gonna say anything?” He asks.

She thinks for a second. “I don’t think I have anything left to say, really. I said everything I had to say.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Dean yells out.

She has to look at him then, with ire in her eyes. “SHhhh!! He’s sleeping!” She whisper-yells at him, pointing to Sam in the back seat. 

Trying to compose himself once again, Dean whisper-yells back at her, “What do you mean you’ve said everything you had to?”

“I said it, in the motel,” She explains.

“And that was it? The end of the conversation?” Dean questions, seeming very agitated.

“I mean, yeah! What else am I supposed to do?” She throws back, his agitation is quite contagious. It always has been. 

“You really think that was a reasonable end to that conversation?!” Dean bites.

She’s getting annoyed now. “What do you want? You want me to elaborate? Write a thesis paper on it? Or—or would you like to read my diary where I scribbled ‘Y/n Winchester’ a million times? What exactly is the resolution you’re looking for here?”

“You wrote ‘Y/n Winchester’ in your diary a million times…?” He asks, almost as if he cannot comprehend the idea of it. 

From anyone else she would’ve taken that as an insult. Had it been anyone else they might have actually been making fun of her. But it’s not anyone else. It’s Dean. So she’s compelled to look at him.

“Yeah, Dean. And it was just as embarrassing then as it is right now. But I was the nerdy teenager and you were the hot jock who the cheerleaders at Mystic Falls High were dying to date.” Just the thought of those days makes her morose. “I don’t like to think about those days.”

Then there is silence again.

Until Dean clears his throat, slowly he says, “But I never drove any of them home.” And damn it all to hell, it makes her smile. And damn it all to hell, her smile apparently makes him more confident in his approach. “I didn’t wait for them outside their place, blaring AC/DC at the crack of dawn, all to get milkshakes before school… It was you. I wanted to hang out with you.”

But that’s somehow the wrong thing to say, “Never at school.”

“What?” Dean asks, thrown off.

“You didn’t talk to me at school.” Admitting it, it breaks something in her all over again. It’s like she’s in highschool again. She hates it.

“That’s not true! We had lunch together everyday!” He defends.

“Nope,” she tells him. “You had lunch with the cheer squad while I sat on the table next to you silently eating really bad beans.”

“But I was there,” He tries.

“You were,” she concedes. “You were there but you weren’t there.”

Silence falls once again.

“I don’t blame you,” she is the one that breaks it. “For high school.”

“Why not?” Dean asks, sounding genuinely more hurt at the fact that she doesn’t blame him than the fact that she accused him of ignoring her.

“It’s a weird time for everyone, and I think Mystic Falls High was the first time you got to actually enjoy it. You stayed there long enough to stop being the new kid and I think it was also the first time you felt like you fit in. I didn’t, and that was never your fault… or your problem for that matter,” she explains, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

“That’s not fair,” Dean opposes.

“What?”

“Your problems are my problems.”

And the finality of his statement gives her a weird sort of confidence to say, “Sheesh. Wonder why I ended up falling in love with you.” 

The car skids a little.

She can’t help it, she laughs.

“YOU CAN’T JUST SAY SHIT LIKE THAT!” Dean argues.

She’s still laughing, “I’m sorry. But… Come on! It was kinda funny.” 

“I did not find that funny! Not even a little bit! What’s so funny about being—” He cuts himself off.

She laughs a little harder. “That’s what’s funny! You can’t even say it! You wanna know what’s so funny about being in love with you? I can’t stop it. It’s…” She sits up to position her back towards the window and moves herself to face Dean better. “It’s like breathing. I have tried, time and time again, to stop, and for a while I can. I can try to hold my breath when I’m being mindful of it. I can remember not to breathe when I’m focused on not breathing but the moment my brain gets engaged anywhere else, I’m screwed. The moment I look away, the moment I burn my toast, or start reading a book or watch a film, the moment I’m in a rush to meet Bonnie, the moment my mind becomes occupied with anything other than the conscious thought reminding me not to breathe—BAM! I’m falling in love with you again. It’s so fucking easy, it’s so fucking comfortable. Loving you is the my most cherished accomplishment because I’ve done it so fucking well for so freaking long.” She smiles. “I feel like I deserve a prize.”

Dean stays silent.

Her smile fades.

She shakes her head, she knew what he felt. She’s always known how he feels. A long silence shouldn’t be the thing that aches her heart. Not after having been in love with this man for this long.

“Did you—” He cuts himself short. She turns to him again, eager for him to continue. And her silent pleas are heard loudly. Continue he does, “Did you decide to tell me… about this today cause we met 15 years ago today?”

“No,” she brushes him off. “I just needed to get this off my—” Suddenly his words strike her like a thunderbolt. “What do you mean 15 years ago today?”

He shrugs, eyes on the road. “A day before Stefan’s birthday, that’s when we met for the first time.”

“You… You remember the day we met?” She asks, dumbfounded.

Dean doesn’t answer, instead the car comes to a stop. He’s pulled into the parking lot of a 7Eleven. “I’ll be right back.”

Only when she watches Dean get out of the car and walk into the store does she realise that it’s the 7Eleven in Mystic Falls. They are only a few minutes away from the Salvatore Boarding house, barely 12 minutes away from her brothers’ place. 

She can’t believe she feels this way but a part of her feels like she’s running out of time. But running out of time for what? It’s Dean! He’ll be there to pick her up two days later. He’ll be there to light her cigarettes in a crowd—and not mean absolutely anything by it—in two days time. It’s not that long. They’ve dropped her off to live with her brothers’ for weeks even. Two days is nothing. It’s barely a visit. Then why in God’s name does she feel like there’s a clock right above her head counting down. And counting down to what??

“Here you go,” Dean says, as he gets in and throws something in her lap. 

She catches out of reflex. “Cigarettes?” It’s two packs of menthols, her current favorite.

“What about ‘em? You like these right?” He pulls out of the parking lot. “You quit Marlboro Reds a month ago, and switched to these so I thought they’d be a safer bet. Was I wrong?” 

It’s natural though. The most natural thing in the world. Dean buys her cigarettes. He always buys her cigarettes.

The thing about smoking that most people don’t understand is that it opens a whole new world. It’s bad obviously and no one should do it. But when you do it, when you smoke, there are a few things, a few rules that might not mean anything to a non-smoker but mean everything to a smoker. 

Take for instance, ‘Puff-Puff-Pass’. 

For any random person, the intricacies of ‘Puff-Puff-Pass’ exists to the extent of its name. But only a smoker knows that in an intimate setting, between two friends, the rule doesn’t apply. It’s rude not to follow the rule in a social gathering amongst semi-strangers, but among the two of them, it never applied.

Similarly, buying someone cigarettes is the purest gesture of care. 

Having a pack ready for consumption whenever she came back from a visit to the Salvatore Boarding House? To her that always felt like the loudest way that Dean could tell her that he cared for her. 

And he did these things often. Even when he quit smoking, he’d light her cigarettes for her. For as long as Dean has known she smokes, she has never lit a cigarette for herself. These gestures of… call it love, call it self-destruction, they have never not been there. So him buying her cigarettes is the most natural thing in the world but it throws her off still.

“Y/n?”

“What?” She suddenly remembers there was a question there, in his words before. “Oh yeah. Menthols… I smoke menthols now, yes. Good guess.”

He noticed me change my cigarettes? She asks herself, feeling something very close to giddy. Before she has to scream at herself inside, cause Dean has always done this and it has never meant anything. It’s just his small way of adhering to his duty of care.

“Thanks,” she tells him belatedly. She doesn’t fail to notice how the words make his nose scrunch up—the way it usually does when he dislikes something.

“You said you’ve tried not loving me,” Dean states and that’s all it is—a statement, an observation.

But she feels compelled to explain herself, “It’s not easy,” she tells him. “You’re… You’re you. You’re charming and hot and…” she’s spilled most of her guts, what harm can a little bit of spilling her heart do now? “You’re beautiful. You’ve got a different girl to take home every other night. It kills me inside, I won’t lie. It’s torture seeing you laughing with someone else. It really is. But it’s not your fault. And, I know you don’t feel the same way, and for a long time I didn’t mind this one sided affair cause, it was mine, you know? This love I had for you, it was all mine. I didn’t care if you loved me back… But then you…”

“Died,” he finishes the sentence for her.

She nods lamely. “It felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. I don’t remember what I did when you weren’t around. I don’t remember how I survived because to me breathing was being in love with you. It’ll always be that. I just knew if I ever saw you again, I needed you to know how I felt. I’d been too selfish with my love for you. I… I don’t know. It sounds stupid now. I just needed you to know and I felt like I should tell you today so I did.”

And then the car stops again. 

She looks up and she’s standing in front of the boarding house. 

Clock’s run out.

Dean tries to say something but she doesn’t know if she has the courage to hear a placated, softly-worded rejection so she just gets out of the car. 

He follows suit.

He rushes to open the trunk and pulls out her luggage.

She takes it for him, and then begins walking to the door.

“Y/n!”

It feels like a gust of wind. 

The way he calls for her feels like the gust of wind that blows right before the lighting strikes.

She turns without hesitance. 

Their eyes lock.

He’s standing next to the driver side, the door to the impala is still open. The only thing lighting his face is a street light a couple paces behind him. Bathed in yellow, he looks like a wild field of sunflowers, with his messy blond hair and painfully green eyes. He’s absolutely breathtaking.

For all her talk of her love for Dean Winchester being like breathing, in this moment, at the sight of this man looking absolutely divine, she doesn’t think she remembers how to breathe at all.

So with bated breath, she waits for him to speak.

“Y/n…” He says again, before something changes and his eyes stop shining, his posture hardens, his hand grips the Impala’s door a little harder and his face loses color. Then he says, “We’ll pick you up Tuesday.” With that he gets back in the car and drives off. 

It’s only when they’ve crossed the Mystic Falls border does the silence in the Impala break.

“You’re an idiot,” Sam tells him. 

Find Part 2 here.

[soft-mafia]

Take Me With You [Buggy x Reader]

warnings: fem reader, oc insert, reader is around the same age as the straw hats, mentioned age gap, Buggy being kind of a perv, short drabble

a/n: Reader running off with Buggy is starting to live in my mind rent free. Also urrrgggg Buggy is so Salvatore Ultraviolence Born To Die coded

part 2

“Sorry kiddos, I would love to stay and make things right, but it’s time to exit stage left.” Buggy said as soon as he got his body back, and ran off away from all of the conflict.. what was he gonna do now dammit? I mean it wouldn’t be long before his crew found him, it shouldn’t be that long right? He was sure they weren’t all a bunch of idiots—

“Buggy! Wait!!” He heard a voice call out from behind him, he paused and turned around, seeing Y/n there. He smiled sweetly at her, “Oh, hey hot stuff.” He grinned at her, “Listen.. it’s not you, it’s me, I really gotta-”

“-Take me with you.” Y/n said, slowly stepping closer to Buggy, looking at him with sadness in her eyes— oh shit. Maybe Buggy went a bit overboard with the sweet talk with this girl.. she was the only one that was gentle with his head, he wanted to stay on her good side but he never imagined that she would actually FALL for him. Why? Buggy took a few seconds to process what she said, “Huh?” He croaked out.

“Please take me with you!!” She said again.

Buggy’s mouth was slightly agape, he then sighed and stepped closer to her, putting his hands on her shoulders before eying her up, “Listen, baby, as much as I appreciate you for taking care of my head.. I think I’m a bit too old for you.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, then looked down at the ground, “I.. I don’t care.” She whispered. Buggy’s jaw clenched, he just couldn’t.. leave her. He had to admit she was cute, and when she had held his head close to her tits it felt like heaven.. he looked up and sighed heavily, “C’mon baby.. don’t-..” he sighed again, “Stop acting like that, stop it.” She was acting so sad.. the thought of how sad and lonely Y/n would be if he left her here was starting to creep into his mind, and it was making him feel like an asshole.

“What about your friends huh?” Buggy tried to reason with her, “And.. trust me you wouldn’t like it on my crew, you’re way too hot for that.” He moved his hands down to her arms.

“I only knew them for like.. a few days, I can’t really call them my friends.” Y/n mumbled, looking up at Buggy through her eyelashes.

Puppy dog eyes?! C’mon, she’s fucking killing me! Buggy sighed, “Well you don’t even know me at all!” He growled.

“Then let me get to know you! Please! Please take me with you..! I know I’d feel safer around you!” Y/n stepped closer to him, Buggy could see his ship in the horizon, thank god.

Why him of all people?! Safe?! He literally tried to kill the people she was with, AND her. He was confused, but he didn’t really have much time to think this through.

Buggy put his hands on Y/n’s waist and looked down at her, should he really do this? He exhaled, “Ok. Fine.” He grabbed her forearm and started heading for the shore, dragging her along with him, “It took those fuckers way too long to find me.” He grumbled under his breath.

Y/n felt her heart fluttering, he’s actually taking me with him!! She couldn’t believe this was happening.. the way he was holding her, the way he looked at her, she was swooning so hard..

She caught up with him, walking by his side.

[companionjones]

The Good In Him

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Reader

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Summary: Damon realizes something. He realizes a lot of things.

Warnings: Cursing

"fUCKING HELL, DAMON! Announce yourself next time!" You practically jumped out of your skin when you walked into your room to see Damon seated at the foot of your bed.

He remained quiet. He wasn't looking at you.

You read the room. "Damon...? Are you alright?"

Still, he said nothing.

"You're going to have to give me some sign of life, here. So I know you're not, like, possessed by anything."

It was barely noticeable, but you saw Damon's lip quirk up at that. Finally, he spoke. "I'm just trying to figure out when this happened."

"When what happened--"

"I mean, I've been in love with her for 145 years. I don't know anything else."

You nodded, understanding who 'she' was. "Katherine--"

Damon stood up, but he still wasn't looking at you. "The only reason I came back here was to get her back. She has been the one and only reason behind every decision I've made until that night I went into that tomb."

"Did Katherine do something to you--?"

He went on, "And even after that, she wasn't out of my mind. I was still thinking about her every second of everyday. Where was she? Why did she do what she did?"

"Damon--"

"She came at me tonight. She had me pinned to the ground and she kissed me. And what did I do?"

"What did you do?" You'd given up on trying to talk to him, and decided to let his story play out.

"I rejected her."

That got your attention. "What?"

Damon repeated himself. "I rejected her. Told her to leave. Try the other Salvatore brother. She was not happy." He laughed at that last part.

"Isn't this all you've wanted all this time?" You wondered, "Why did you reject her?"

For the first time that night, Damon responded to you. He also looked you in the eyes for the first time that night as well. "Because of you."

"What?"

"I did it because of you."

Your brow furrowed. "Why?"

He was quiet for a second. "When did we first meet?" Damon asked you.

"When you first got back to town. You told me," you answered.

His lip quirked up again. "Yeah. And you've been glued to my side ever since. Even when I told you what I was you didn't leave. You wanted to help me get this girl back. Why?"

"Why did I want to help you?" you asked.

Damon nodded.

"Honestly?"

He rolled his eyes and sarcastically answered, “No. Lie to me."

You rolled your eyes right back him. "...I guess I did it because I saw the good in you. You deserved at least this." Every word was the truth.

"Where?"

"Where what?"

"Where did you see the good in me?"

Again, you rolled your eyes. "Really, Damon?"

He stood his ground. "For once, I am being completely serious. Answer the question."

You sighed. "Well, you certainly didn't show it in most of your actions...It was just something I felt, you know? In my heart...What?"

Damon was gazing at you. A smile was appearing on his face.

"Clue me in, Damon," you urged.

It was like he was realizing something he thought he should've realized a long time ago. "It was...you. You decided when it happened."

"When what happen--mm!"

Damon had sped toward you to place a sweet kiss on your lips.

You immediately pulled away. "Damon!" Your face was still in his hands.

The vampire had the lightest smile on his face. "You decided when to fall in love with me, and that's how I returned the favor."

You knew you should have been questioning the kiss, or maybe why Damon was acting so deliriously happy, but only one question was on your mind. "You love me?" You needed to hear him say it. You'd been hiding your side of things long enough.

Damon turned serious again. He put his forehead against yours and admitted, "I love you, Y/n."

Your heart stuttered, and a tear left your eye (which Damon quickly wiped away). "I love you too, Damon." You leaned forward to kiss him.

Damon met your lips halfway.

*******

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[starlightandfairies]

Hiiii I hope you don’t mind me requesting again! I love the one you did for me! It made me incredibly happy.

May I request a Lorenzo St. John x female reader? This time I was thinking of a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort? If that’s okay of course. Again, human reader please. This time reader is very stubborn and always acts tough. She dislikes supernaturals a lot. She’s friends with Elena and her group.

One day reader gets kidnapped and threatened by an enemy vampire if the Salvatore’s. The brothers save her, but once she gets home she starts to panic and cry because she’s had enough and doesn’t know if she can take anymore of the supernatural drama. But Enzo stops by her house to ask for a favor and the reader acts like she’s fine but it’s obvious she’s been crying and he tries to comfort her, despite her not liking him much.

Ahhh sorry this is long again! I just have so many ideas….um ignore this if it’s too much. I hope you have a wonderful full day and night!!

Description: The reader is kidnapped by an old enemy of the Salvatores and as tries to pretend that everything is okay but fails at doing so.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

I honestly got so excited when you requested Enzo! Thank you for requesting again and yay! I'm so happy the other one made you happy. I'm glad! I'm honestly not happy about how this one turned out but I hope you still enjoy it regardless.

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 1,358

First Person's POV

Once I turned 18 I promised I would leave Mystic Falls for good. This town is a goddamn beacon for chaos and danger. I wouldn't even be surprised if a hole to the end of the world opened right in the centre of town. One thing I hated more than maths was the supernatural beings that thought the world revolved around them. Of course, I loved Caroline, Bonnie and Elena. I tolerated Stefan and Damon but the others... the others it depended on who they were and what they've done. I tried my best to stay away from the chaos that the group got themselves into, sometimes it was relatively easy and other times it was damn hard. 

Every day I make a bet with myself about if it's gonna be an easy day or a damn hard day. I made a bet that it'll be a damn hard day. I don't know what gave me that feeling, it was just that uneasy feeling when I woke up this morning and considering that the Salvatores had been kidnapped and beaten the last few days, I just assumed that the streak of unpleasantness would continue. 

Heading towards the town square, I stood, waiting for the girls to show up, putting myself on edge due to the sudden paranoia that someone would be out to get me. 

I don't know how it happened, or when it happened but I woke up, tied up and sitting on a mattress laid across the ground. I refused to cry, I would not let myself be seen as weak and give whatever asshole decided to use me as fish bait. 

"Y/n... Y/n... Y/n..." I stared angrily at the figure, recognising the person as a Traveller, I rolled my eyes and stared at the figure flabbergasted as he slapped me. 

"I need the Salvatores to come here, I see them with you, so here we are," I grunted through the rag, groaning as he pulled it from my mouth and went to speak but was literally hushed by the twit. He put his damn finger on my lips with a tut to silence me. 

"Listen here... I don't care about how you want to run your damn mouth, I don't have the time, all I care about is bringing the Salvatores here and following the plan." 

"And that would be?" 

"Noneya." 

"Oh, how mature," I muttered, hissing in pain as his fist collided with my face, I took another breath and smiled at the man showing that I didn't care and that it didn't faze me at all. I grunted as he shoved the rag back in and proceeded to pace the room. I couldn't help but flinch as the door slammed open and within the blink of an eye the Salvatores easily dealt with the guy and the adrenaline seemed to take away my thought processing and I ended up back home without really realising it. 

I took a shower, got into my pyjamas, plopped down on the couch and that's when it all came out. I could feel my hands begin to shake, a tightness in my chest formed that made it hard to breathe. The tears came cascading down, the whole room seemed to spin and I couldn't stop my sobs from escaping. I do not want to go through that again, I do not want to be kidnapped and hurt. I can't go through that, this is all too much, maybe I should just move away? Get away from the town of death and suffering. 

I couldn't tell you how long I had been crying for, I couldn't even tell you how the panic attack stopped or if it even stopped. I was sitting in a pool of tissues, I had already nearly gone through an entire box, I don't think I've cried this much before, I can't think of a time when the pain has been this bad. 

I jumped hearing a knock on my door, I quickly and roughly rubbed my eyes doing my best to make the tears go away and hope that whoever it was wouldn't need anything from me. I forced a smile to my lips as I opened the door, surprised to see the lovely Enzo there, he was a vampire I liked and I will admit there are times when I prefer him over the Salvatores but also just like most of the supernatural my tolerance normally ran low. 

"Enzo- hi."

"Hello, gorgeous... listen I need a favour-" The vampire cut himself off, he glanced around to the living area and then back at me. I did my best to keep smiling, not wanting to let my guard down. 

"Gorgeous, what's going on?" 

"I'm fine Enzo, listen I've got a busy day tomorrow and as much as I'm sure the favour cannot wait I cannot help you today." I tried closing the door on him, groaning as he easily stopped it and slipped into my home. I bit the inside of my cheek, finding it harder and harder to continue pretending that I was okay. 

"You've been crying..." 

"N-no I haven't. I said I am fine." I tried to make my words more pointed, hoping he'll truly believe that I was 'fine' but Enzo is smart and it was clear that my bullshit lies weren't enough to convince him. 

"Talk to me, please." I wrapped my arms around myself, shaking my head, the tears inevitably coming, I could feel my lips quivering and my body shake as the sobs escaped my lips. I could feel Enzo leading me to the couch, he brushed away the tissues and sat beside me. 

"Y/n... what's going on? What happened." 

"I- one of the travellers took me and used me as bait to draw in the Salvatores... I can't deal with the supernatural any longer... I don't want to go through that again. This- this anxiety, I can't... I won't go through that again. I'm so scared Enzo, I can't keep pretending that I'm fine because everyone looks to me because they think I'm tough but the truth is-" I let out a sob that would prevent me from going on any further without struggling to voice my concerns. I shook my head, angry with myself for blubbering in front of Enzo. 

I felt him wrap an arm around me, he lightly rubbed my shoulder, against all my wishes, I let myself curl against him. At that moment I didn't care about who was comforting me, all I cared about was seeking someone who would offer me the comfort I clearly needed. 

"I can make it easier for you- I can... if you're comfortable, I can compel you... I can make it go away." I considered, that maybe it would make it easier to just disappear... make it easier to get away from all of this. I was about to allow him to do that but then I thought of Bonnie and Caroline and Elena... I couldn't do that to them. 

"N-no, no. Thank you." 

"If you ever change your mind... I know we aren't close, I think you don't like me at all but I'll make it go away. If you ever want." I took a few deep breaths, nodding and appreciating that Enzo would do this for me even after knowing that I wasn't his biggest fan. 

"I don't not not like you but- it's not important right now." 

"You know, you know gorgeous... I still think you are pretty tough, you know it's okay to cry and it's okay be worired." It felt reassuring to know that, I never wanted to let anyone down and I wanted them to know that I am strong and I am tough. That these things won't bother me or effect me.

"Means a lot to me."

[yeehawbvby]

Hello! While I was doing the classes and Salvatore (the language teacher) gives you words in other languages and asks what they mean. He did this with 'I love you' and that gave an idea. What if reader and Arven are both in that class and Salvatore notices Arven's crush on reader (I feel like Arven's the type to stare at his crush and then get caught and get all shy about it) and tries to encourage him to confess. Sry this was a bit long. Hope you have a wonderful day/night!

WAIT STOP this is so frickin’ cute wtf 😭😭😭 Don’t be sorry at all for the long prompt!! The more details regarding what you’re looking for, the better :D

I hope you don’t mind that I went with a gendered reader – it just kinda naturally flowed out of me this way ;;w;; Enjoy! x

Love Languages | Arven x F!Reader

Rating: Teen+ | WC: 1,744

I have a crush on my best bud. I can’t help it. It happens, it’s not a big deal, and she definitely doesn’t need to know. But, I’m unfortunately far from subtle in my affections.

She’s just… so damn pretty. The way her hair shines no matter the lighting, the glimmer in her eyes when she’s excited, the blush on her little cheeks when she’s praised. With her brains, strength, and kindness on top of all that, it’s hard not to be totally enamored. 

Enamored enough to, y’know… check her out, every once in a while. I guess.

One time, Salvatore caught me in the act. She was answering a question of his during one of his lectures, and my eyes remained on her just barely too long. When he finished addressing her, our teacher looked at me, and his eyes widened. He glimpsed at her again, then back at me, and he winked. 

Now, I know Salvatore’s a good guy. He’s friendly, he often has his students’ and Pokémons’ best interests in mind, and he’s lackadaisical when it comes to grading and due dates… But I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t a little shit.

Whether I’m peeking at my buddy in class or grabbing lunch with her in the cafeteria, if Salvatore sees it, he gives me a look. Like, one of those “I see, I see…” sort of looks. It’s terrible. I could only ever hope to Arceus that her steel trap brain is oblivious to it.

Today, little buddy and I talked a bit before class – easy enough, with her sitting diagonally in front of me – and eventually Salvatore mosied on in, with his typical greeting. “My dear friends!” and so on. My bud turned around towards her desk, I got out my notebook and stuff, and everything went how it usually does, at least at first.

“Now, mes amis – my friends, that is! I’ve decided to change up our typical lesson format a bit.” 

Oh? 

“In le cours d’ajourd’hui – today’s class – we will learn about a very special phrase that you can put to use when the time is juuust right!” 

Salvatore smiles and scans the room as usual, searching for a reaction. But this time, before continuing, his eyes linger on me. 

“Ai shiteiru! Je t’aime! Te amo! Ich liebe dich! Does anyone know what these phrases mean?”

After a few quiet moments, little buddy raises her hand, and I notice what seems like a small blush on the side of her cheek. Salvatore calls on her to answer, and it comes out… timid?

“T-they mean, um… ‘I love you.’”

Hearing those words from her mouth makes my heart pound in my chest. 

“Très bien!” My eyes feel like they’re gonna pop right out of my skull as Salvatore turns to me. “It’s so very important to express your feelings about things to others, you know!” 

…He’s scheming.

Salvatore slowly walks across the class, inspecting us all. “So, mes merveilleux élèves – my wonderful students – I’m going to be setting you up into pairs.”

No.

When he reaches my row, he stops. He’s watching me. “I want you to practice amongst each other!” 

Nope!

“I’ll supply you with worksheets, made by yours truly,” he saunters over to the podium and grabs a stack of papers, “so that you all have prompts to work with! That way none of you will find yourselves ​​à une perte pour les mots – at a loss for words, that is!”

No thank you!

Whispers erupt amongst my peers. “Is he serious?” “This is so humiliating…” “What if I get paired with… you know?!” My eyes wide, I look around, studying everyone’s expressions and eavesdropping on their reactions to today’s lesson. At least I’m not the only one who’s worried. 

My gaze lands on my buddy, and she’s staring down at her desk. The same flush that coated her cheeks when she answered his question is still there – if anything, it looks a bit darker now.

“Oh my!” Salvatore laughs, interrupting the chatter. “Have I embarrassed you all, my friends?” 

No shit, man.

My brain turns to oatmeal as I zone out on my notebook. Salvatore continues instructing, and he’s probably trying to give me some kind of “wink wink, nudge nudge” of sorts, but it’s falling on blind eyes and deaf ears.  

He wouldn’t pair me up with her… would he? It would make the most sense for him to just pair us as we’re paired in our desks, right? Right?!

Two by two, the other students begin to shuffle around. And eventually, Salvatore calls my buddy’s name… followed by mine.

“Come get your assignments, you two!”

I hate him. 

I pack up my things, as does little buddy, and we both make our slow trek up to the front of the class. 

As Salvatore gives us our work for the day, he says, “Bonne chance – good luck!”

Fuck off.

Sighing, I stare down at the paper in my hand while we make our way to one of the last sets of empty desks available. My bud’s uncharacteristically quiet as we settle in, grabbing our pens and reading over the worksheets in front of us.

“So…” I prompt, wanting to get this over with. I can’t even look at her right now. “Y-you ready?”

When I don’t hear a verbal response, I look to my side, and she nods. Her face is still rosy, and she won’t look at me, either. Nerves getting the best of me, I do the only thing I really know how to do in a situation like this: I ramble. 

“Er, the first part here is to just match up the phrases with what languages they are. Easy enough…” 

“Mhm,” my friend hums quietly. 

“Alright, number one…” I can’t even bring myself to say the words out loud. Why is this so embarrassing?! At the end of it all, this is nothing more than an assignment, right? “...is Johtoan.” I peer up, and while writing down her answer, my bud nods. 

This continues until we complete the first section of our work. Maybe this won’t be so bad… as long as we don’t talk much, we’ll avoid any embarrassment, right?

“How are we doing, vous petits tourtereaux?” Salvatore asks. I don’t know what that last part meant, but little buddy seems to. Her eyes widen and she tenses up, her cheeks flushing. 

I squint at him. A look that says “You suck, and this feels like betrayal.” While doing so though, I verbally answer, “N-nous c’est bien…?” 

“Nous sommes bons, but I appreciate the attempt, Master Arven!” Salvatore winks, before suggesting, “You know, practice makes perfect.” Yeah, and? “Why don’t you two discuss the lesson amongst yourselves?” No. “You won’t improve without expérience de vie réelle – real life experience – after all!” 

“Er, we’re alri–”

“O-okay.” 

My head whips towards my buddy. When I look back up at Salvatore, he has a menacing grin on his face. He mutters something in Kalosian before moving onto another pair of students. I turn to my left again, and watch as my friend places down her pen, before shyly peering up at me to her right.

Are her pupils always so big? 

It’s probably just the lighting. Or I’m just seeing shit. Whatever.

“So…” she mutters. She looks down at her paper and fidgets with the corner. “We can just… go down the list here, I guess?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” That accidentally came out as a whisper, but she heard it well enough to begin. 

My buddy clears her throat, then mutters, “Um…” she pauses briefly, shifting herself to sit facing towards me. I do the same. “J-je t’aime.” 

Her eyes almost look hopeful as they flicker up to mine, then back down at her worksheet. Oh Arceus this is gonna be harder than I thought. 

“...Wǒ ài nǐ.”

More silence. Swallowing a lump in her throat, my buddy furrows her brows, then looks me in the eye. It’s like she’s hyping herself up… so cute. “Te amo…!”

Oh.

T-that had more of an effect than I expected. 

My eyes widen, and hers follow suit. She looks down promptly, while my cheeks redden to match hers. I quietly keep the flow going. “Ai shiteiru.”

“T-ti amo.”

“Didn’t you just say that one?” I softly tease. I’m relieved to see her shoulders relax a little, and her beautiful lips curve into one of her beautiful smiles, as I make light of what’s going on. 

She shakes her head. “Different languages.” 

Mirroring her grin, I keep up the antics. “Bullshit.” 

“It’s true! Ask Salvatore.” 

I glimpse over at him, and having heard his name, he’s already looking at us. I shake my head at him and turn my attention back to my friend. “N-no, it’s alright.”

We fall into another silence, so I go again. “Salanghaeyo.” 

Gnawing the cap of her pen, little buddy meets my eye again. “I-ich liebe dich.” 

Fuck. 

In a trance, we both seem to not want to pull our irises away from one another… so we keep going, just rambling based off of the word banks in our brains.

“Mahal kita.”

“Ya tebe lyublyu.”

“Se agapó.”

“Volim te.”

“I love you.”

Both sets of eyes widen. 

I… wasn’t supposed to use our own language. 

See, I could easily pass this off as an easy mistake now, but something is stopping me. I take in a deep breath, my eyes scanning my friend’s face. Somehow, her eyes focus even harder on me. Like she’s having some sort of revelation. Like… like she wants me to say more. 

I wonder if…?

“...I love you,” I repeat, adding her name to the end. Trying to look more serious, in spontaneous hopes that she knows I’m serious.

Taken aback, she squeaks. Her mouth opens and shuts a few times. “I…” she pauses, looks down, then looks at me again. “I love you… Arven…”

…!

“You…? Wait, a-actually?”

Fidgeting with her pen in her hands – focusing hard on the way she’s twirling it between her fingers – she nods. She grins to herself, too shy to meet my eyes.

“I… oh my god, I love you!”

I look towards Salvatore. My mouth’s agape. I silently mouth the words, “IT WORKED,” in his direction. He beams, and a broad smile forms across his features.

…Salvatore, you sly motherfucker. 

You actually did it.

[calummss]

1920s LOVE | KLAUS MIKAELSON

masterlist : part 2

summary: your cousins, the salvatore brothers, tell you to go straight home after school. an evil vampire has come to town and it’s too dangerous; so what happens when the original vampire appears in your house unannounced

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 1.9k

a/n: my first tvd imagine for literally the man i love the most. this fic has similarities to @frost-queen ‘s work as i requested the imagine to her before i started writing but i wanted to write it myself. so before you come at me she already knows as i asked her first!! :)

‘After that we miss our chance to make memories.’ You chimed with Bonnie and Elena, all of you smiling as the cool breeze filtered through your hair.

‘Caroline, I’m not that type of person and you know that!’ A giggle escaped your lips, your hands reaching for hers. ‘Besides, I promised Stefan that I’d go straight home after school.’

‘What even is he to you?’ Caroline pulled her most Caroline face ever.

‘Well he feels like my cousin, but technically he’s probably my great x1000 cousin or something. All I know is that I’m a Salvatore and that connects us.’

Caroline pondered for a moment, letting go of your hands and bracing herself. ‘Fine.’

You let out a breath.

‘But,’

You sighed.

‘You have to actually show up to the dance and not just for five minutes before disappearing with Jeremy to never be seen again.’

‘Fine.’ You threw your hands up in the air and walked away from the group. ‘I can’t wait Caroline! I’m going to have so much fun.’ You made fun of yourself, earning chuckles from the girls before they parted ways too.

Stefan, even though your cousin from hundreds of generations ago, acted like your big brother despite being your age (one could argue about that). Stefan and Damon felt more like brothers and that’s what you always referred to them as. Since you started living at the Boarding house and got told the type of lifestyle the brothers lived, they always made sure you were safe. You were truly grateful for that. Having someone actually care about your well-being and not just yell at you to bring food to the table even though you were only nine years old…it was family. But Stefan and Damon could be pushy when it did come to your safety. Especially since that really old vampire came to town and terrorised Mystic Falls’ supernatural citizens. Since you were a human; a human that knew of vampires and was friends with them so they didn’t want to take any chances. So like any other girl with overprotective brothers, you had no other choice but to go home.

You took your time walking back. The sounds of leaves rustling on the pavement. Red-orangey leaves tumbling across the cement. Whistling of the winds as it bolted through the trees.

You felt at peace. Peace you had longed for for a long time.

Arriving at the enormous house , you unlocked the door and threw your school bag next to the shoe rack, slumping your way down the hall, but someone caught your eye.

‘And you are?’ You asked the man whose eyes were glued onto you as you walked down the steps that led to the living room.

‘You don’t know me, love?’ The stranger cocked his head with a sneaky grin on his face.

‘No, otherwise I wouldn’t ask, dumbass.’

The man chuckled, slowly standing up and stepping forwards, ‘I’m Klaus Mikaelson, I think you might’ve heard of me.’

‘That scary old hybrid?’ You gasped, mouth wide open with a weird expression of positive surprise; but you weren't afraid.

‘In the flesh.’ He lifted his arms to his side, palms facing upwards like he stood in front of a civilisation that ought him to be a god.

‘No offence but I thought Klaus was some creepy old man…you're surprisingly hot.’ You confessed, ignoring the fact that you never spoke so directly to a stranger. ‘Well, I don’t know why you're here and I don’t think I care. I made food before I went to school so it should be done by now, do you want some?’ You walked past him, mumbling quietly, knowing he could hear you, and entered the kitchen where your tart from this morning stood.

‘How do I know that you won’t kill me?’ Klaus replied.

‘Well first, I actually don’t know how to kill you,’ you lifted your thumb and started to count the reasons. ‘I would be extremely dumb to even try and I really just want to know if my food tastes good.’

‘So not all the Salvatores are as dumb as the brothers.’ He relaxed his weight into one of the kitchen stools and eyed you up and down, scanning for something.

‘Is that a compliment or are you badmouthing me with mirroring words?’

‘I take that back.’

‘Arsehole.’ You scoffed and walked around the kitchen aisle to grab a plate from one of the cupboards.

‘So what exactly am I looking at,’ Klaus eyes the ceramic pan that you had set out on the island moments before, ‘it looks nice.’

‘It’s a strawberry tart with a layer of condensed whipped cream and a layer of red bean,’ you started to plate the first portion, ‘and before you start with ‘Red bean? oh my god that’s sooooo weird’, it’s a sweet type. Very popular in east Asia. It’s really good.’ You smiled at him and pushed a fork towards him. ‘I could never make something not tasty because I’m a good chef.’

Klaus chuckled, the corner of his mouth turning into a slight smile, yet his eyes were just as cold. Grabbing the fork you had placed before him, he took a piece with equal amounts of ingredients and placed it in his mouth.

You eyed him for a long second. He wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t frowning. He wasn’t doing anything. Klaus’ face was blank as the test sheet you had given Mr. Saltzman this morning in first period.

‘So?,’ your eyes still on his face, ‘is it good?’ you leaned in closer, eyes narrowing with a smile. You clicked with your tongue, index finger pointing at the so-called monster in joy, ‘Of course it is!’

Instead of answering your question, Klaus simply took another hit confirming the good taste.

‘I knew it!’ You drummed against the kitchen aisle, ‘Miss Salvatore could never fuck up a dish.’ Amused, you finally gave yourself a piece and enjoyed your tart. ‘So,’ you covered your mouth with your hand, ‘you’re a 1000 year old vampire that everyone’s scared of…why?’

‘I guess it’s because I’m an Original,’ he leaned forward, close enough to smell your scent, ‘Can I have another?’ He eyed the pan.

You nodded.

‘An original vampire,’ you nodded your head cooly. ‘That’s cool. But what brings you here? I doubt you’re vacationing in Mystic Falls. Anyone willing to do that must be boring and have no expectations,’

Klaus snickered in response, his intimidating yet charming eyes felt like they were pushing past your eyes. ‘I need something.’ He confessed.

‘What?’

‘Can’t tell you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ll tell your brothers.’ He ate the last piece of tart on his plate and leaned against the counter.

‘They’re more like my cousins,’ you grabbed his plate and set it in the skink, starting to clear things away. ‘Million times removed.’

‘You’re human?’ His tone changed but you couldn’t quite make it out. Did you suddenly fall into his power-play-game?

You hummed in response, turning back to him and sitting down on one of the barstools.

‘Do you like it?’ He asked, some sort of genuineness coating his words.

You hesitated for a second. No one had ever asked you before if you preferred the life you were living. Not even Damon asked you and he was the first to be in favour of turning humans for fun.

‘Sometimes I guess, but the thrill of wanting to be a vampire is overbearing at times.’ You took a sip of water, ‘Stefan and Damon said they’d only ever turn me if there was no other option.’ You took a long pause. ’I feel vulnerable as a human and a spark of confidence couldn’t hurt me, right?’

Klaus turned his head forward, chuckling. ‘I think you already have that spark of confidence you’re talking about, love.’

‘Can I ask you a question? Technically it’s two but,’

‘Go ahead, darling.’

Darling—…Stop.

‘Since you’re a thousand years old,’ you turned your body to him, ‘what’s your favourite decade or era you lived in? Like the Victorian era, Tudor age, all that…what’s your most favourite?’

Klaus lingered a smile, seeming almost smitten with your curiosity and sensing a passion for the past.

‘Maybe the 1920s,’ Klaus said, your eyes instantly lighting up. ‘The music, the people, the aura…it was a great time.’

‘I’m jealous,’ your face fell to a pout, swinging the last drop of water down your throat and reaching for the jug to refill your glass. ‘I wish I experienced the twenties,’

‘I think you would’ve loved the 1920s London party scene.’

‘And do you miss it? The past, I mean. Or do you prefer the modern world? I mean certain aspects are obviously for the better but it must be lonely when everything and everyone you knew ceased to exist…I think I’d become lonely.’

‘I have my family.’

‘But humans,’ you cleared your throat, ‘Vampires,’ you corrected yourself. ‘Nonetheless need different people around them. Otherwise we’d go mad.’

‘I’m already mad.’

‘I heard.’ You let out a suppressed laugh. ‘Well anyway, there’s a 1920s decade dance next week and I don’t know if I’ll go. Apparently Mystic Falls is becoming dangerous for humans and I should only go out if completely necessary.’ Shrugging your shoulders, you got up from your chair when the front door suddenly opened and in a matter of seconds Stefan and Danon were standing in the kitchen.

Damon immediately seized your upper arm with force, pulling you closer to him. He scanned your face, then your torso, arms, legs, to see if Klaus had hurt you or compelled you but he didn’t find a single scratch.

‘What?’ Klaus finally stood up and eyes the brothers up and down. ‘You think I’d harm such excellent company?’

‘What did you do?’ Stefan chimed him defensively.

You broke from Damon’s grib and walked to the other side of the kitchen aisle so that you were now between the men. ‘He didn’t do anything. We ate cake and talked. That’s it.’

Stefan eyed you for a while, but he could tell you weren’t lying and there was no reason for you to cover for him so he accepted the scene in front of him.

‘We have what you want, Klaus,’ Damon hissed, ‘but not here. Leave her out of this.’

Klaus turned his head to look at you. ‘Fine,’ now facing back at Damon. ‘but don’t fuck me over again or I will make this living hell for you.’

Stefan pushed forward, ‘We’ll talk outside.’

Klaus followed Damon, Stefan behind him and turned around one last time leaving you a tad puzzled, ‘It was nice to meet you, love.’

‘You too.’

*1 week later*

Ding ding, Doorbell.

Ugh, you rolled off the couch and stomped towards the door.

‘Caroline I said I’m not going. I can’t be arsed and—oh my god.’ You swung the door open not to reveal the blonde girl that had been nagging at you all week.

Instead it was him. Klaus Mikaelson.

‘I— Ehm— What are you doing here?’

‘I’m here to take you to the 1920s, love.’

[halfmoonshines]

Hello! I saw that you write for TVD so I wonder if I can get a Damon x witch!poc fem reader, in which she, deferential to everyone who only expects the worst from him, sees something good in him, which is why she always chooses him and defends him (only Damon receiving all the love and care he deserves) please? With lots of fluffy and angst

thank you <333

deserving

damon salvatore x witch!poc fem reader

summary; you were not blind to everyone's aggression and faults, so why was everyone blind to everything but Damon's?

a note that this is not set anywhere specific in timeline - alsooo... minor Elena hate? She's such a villain to me.

●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●

The living room of the boarding house had been destroyed, couch flipped and table turned to scrap by Stefan's outburst. He had stormed out quickly afterward, but not before telling both Elena and Damon that they had made him this way.

You stood near the entrance to the room, the magic in your veins humming as it begged to be released on the retreating, erratic vampire. He had been binging on human blood for so long now, you weren't sure he would ever go back to the mild mannered man you had first met all those years ago. No matter what scheme Elena and Damon concocted in their desperate attempt to save him.

"This is all your fault." Elena's voice wavered, but it was full of venom. Your eyes snapped to find her but she was locked on the eldest Salvatore. "You did this to him."

Damon shook his head, confusion marring his face. "Elena, you know that I've been trying-"

"If you had just cleaned up your act a bit sooner, Damon!" She was angrily gathering her things now, getting ready to storm out after her equally as volatile ex. "He wouldn't be this way if you hadn't influenced him."

Your eyes were only on Damon then, you could see the tell-tale clench of his jaw from across the room. The way his fingers flexed. He was upset, because he cared, but he would lash out because he didn't know how else to stand up for himself.

"That's not very fair, Elena. Stefan is his own person. Damon didn't make him do anything." Your voice was firm as you took the single step down into the living room, inching closer to Damon. Trying to let him know he wasn't alone.

Elena's eyes narrowed, a disbelieving smile gracing her face. "Are you really defending him right now?"

"Yes." No hesitation. "I am." You could feel his gaze burning a hole in your back while you stood like a human shield between him and the Gilbert. "I understand you're upset, we're all worried about Stefan. But it isn't fair to blame everything on Damon."

Her scoff would bother you for the next week. "Whatever you say." And with that she left.

The nervousness was settling in your chest when you finally turned to Damon, offering him a small smile. "Sorry about that."

His eyes searched yours for just a second before he turned around and walked upstairs silently.

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"Damon, you're bleeding." You noticed the blood literally pouring from his abdomen when he peeled himself away from you, having shielded you from the explosion that just rocked the gym of the high school. You vaguely noticed your friends pulling themselves to their feet around you, Caroline and Stefan arguing with each other over something. You didn't notice Elena storming over.

Everyone else's yelling voices faded away when you looked up to meet his gaze, noticing his eyes flickering over your dark skin, checking you for any injuries of your own.

You reached a hand out to heal him. You knew he would heal eventually, but it was the least you could do since he most definitely got injured shielding you. You didn't know what was going on with you and Damon lately, but just the thought of him bleeding made you nauseous.

Before your hand could make contact he was yanked away from you, a barely perceptible wince coming from him at the movement. You were angry before you even decided to be.

"How could you not warn us?" Elena's voice was shrill against the pounding in your head from the boom that happened moments ago. You couldn't help but noticed she didn't have a scratch on her but didn't hesitate to hit Damon right in the chest.

"Elena." You stepped forward to wedge yourself between them, not wanting Damon to take the matter into his own hands but not allowing Elena to put a hand on him. Vampire or not.

Everyone was staring now.

"No! Don't Elena me. He full knew that this group of vampires had ex military with them. A warning about potential bombs would have been nice!"

You tried hard to put a cap on your frustration. "Why would he willingly walk into somewhere that could blow him to pieces? Pretty sure there's no coming back from that. Even for a vampire."

Elena seemed to debate her reply for a moment, gaze going from the rigid vampire behind you to your own eyes. "One day, he's going to hurt you so bad, you won't care about his feelings anymore." She left with that, Stefan and Caroline in tow. Caroline was the only one who cast a haphazard glance back at you.

"Thank you." His voice was quiet, and your shock was loud.

"Of course."

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"Can you believe him?" You winced as Elena's angry voice sounded after the slam of the front door. You and Caroline had beat her to her own home after the showdown at the grill, hoping to clean up the broken glass you knew was waiting for her.

"I mean, what else do we expect?" Bonnie's reply was sardonic when they both rounded the corner, spying the other women in the kitchen.

"Damon is the most selfish, disgusting idiot that I have ever had the misfortune of knowing." Elena's tone was final as she slammed her purse down on the kitchen counter, pulling up one of the stools to plop into.

You tried to ignore that angry twinge that always started in your chest whenever people set their crosshairs on the older Salvatore. He seemed to be everyone's resident punching bag, despite the recent uncovered issues Stefan also harbored.

"I still say we should get rid of him." Caroline sounded chipper at the idea she presented, ready to have his head on a pike.

That was most definitely all that you could take. The glass you had been cleaning was roughly thrown into the trash can. "So we're going to get rid of Stefan too, right? Cut out the evil right at its root. Maybe Tyler too."

Her friends looked taken aback, each ones eyebrows pulling together while they stole glances at each other.

"Are you okay?" Bonnie was hesitant in her question, her caramel colored eyes focusing on your own.

"I'm fine, Bon. But it doesn't seem like you guys are. For the last year, all I have heard is how Damon is the bane of everyone's existence. How he's evil. How is what happened tonight his fault? Do you blame him for trying to save his mother? You surely wouldn't fault Stefan for doing the same. How can you make him the villain if you wouldn't hesitate to do what he does? If you were put in the same position?" You gripped the kitchen counter, willing your magic to calm from the swirling mess inside of your stomach.

"You can't mean that. He's done terrible things." Elena argued, arms crossing over her chest.

"So have you. So have I. But he's also done amazing things, Elena. He's sacrificed himself time and time again to try and win some kind of favor with you people but you've done nothing but take him for granted, and then demonize him even more when he dares to let your treatment of him hurt his feelings." By the end of your statement, you had your purse hanging off your arm and you were shoving past Bonnie to get out the door.

"Where the hell are you going?" Caroline questioned.

"To go make sure Damon's okay."

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You were pretty sure you knew where you were going to find him. Since The Grill was out of commission due to the commotion early in the night, he was definitely drinking at home. That's where you came upon him, sprawled out on the couch in the living room of his home, tumbler of amber liquid dangling from his fingers.

"Shouldn't you be plotting my demise with the Scooby Gang?" The defeat in his voice nearly made you halt, a sadness pulling at the back of your eyes. This man had no venom to him, only defeat.

You came around the couch and gently moved his legs to the ground, taking the seat you just cleared. Those clever blue eyes tracked your movements, something foreign shaded in them.

"I know you don't usually want to, but do you want to talk about tonight? It wasn't an easy decision to make, Damon." You tried to sound understanding without being placating, fearing him holding up behind those walls he so loved to build.

"It wasn't a difficult decision. She had to die. So she did." You would've believed his cold mask if you hadn't heard the cracking in his voice.

You sighed a bit, daring to reach a hand out to rest on his knee. His gaze snapped to yours quickly, hardening slowly like water in winter. "You don't deserve to feel like the villain, Damon. You're put in impossible positions to make terrible decisions, and then shunned for them. Please don't let their hatefulness make you feel any less than you are."

You thought he was going to quip back at you at first, a sardonic smirk on his face - but it dropped quickly, and his voice was almost a breath when he asked his question. "Why do you keep defending me?"

A million answers floated through your mind, because there were so many. But you felt like there was only one that would suffice right now. "Because I care about you."

His lips found yours quickly, fitting together like the last pieces of a puzzle.

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[geminioriginalsimagines]

Jealous

Requests: “79 & 80 Stefan Salvatore” Prompt List (Credits to gif owners!)

Y/N hated when she’d be out with Stefan and all of the girls would cling to him like he was a magnet. He only had eyes for her but Y/N couldn’t stand the way Elena still lingered around as if she still cared. She broke his heart for Damon, Caroline has been obsessed with him since he arrived in Mystic Falls. The freshmen girls watched him strut down the hallway.

The junior girls always waited in groups and waved as he passed. But the one thing Y/N couldn’t stand...when a girl flirted with him like she wasn’t standing next to him. Oh it made her blood boil and everything in her crawl. Pretending she didn’t exist because she had one of the yummiest boyfriends in Mystic Falls really irked her. 

Stefan insisted he take Y/N out for dinner at The Grill. With Silas dead, his memories back, he finally found time to take her out and spend time with her. A waitress was watching from the bar, grinning at him. “You do realize you’re the hottest guy in here right? Ever since you got your memories back it’s like every girl is all over you.” Y/N frowned and played with the straw in her drink. Stefan let out a deep exaggerated sigh in response.

His face then turned red. “I wouldn’t say the hottest...” Y/N grinned up at him. He was always so humble. “I don’t know why it’s only now after my memories came back, but you are the one I want Y/N…I explain it to you all the time..” He explained in the most gentle Stefan way possible. Y/N nodded and grabbed his hand from across the table, her thumb playing with his daylight ring. He was right, he did reassure her a lot and she needed to start trusting just a bit more.

“You are the hottest. FYI.” She whispered and Stefan looked down at his lap with a smile on his face, biting his lip to keep from smiling too big. “I just don’t like everyone staring at you. I wish I could just act on it and show them how much I don’t like it.” Y/N rolled her eyes. Stefan thought she was adorable like this, she isn’t threatening at all.

Stefan rested his chin on his hand and brushed his thumb over hers. “I don’t like when guys stare at you but I never act on it.” He added. “Jealousy is okay, as long as you control it, Y/N.” Why does he always have to add his words of Stefan wisdom?

“Not when you’re mine!” She argued and was a little too loud at the same time. “Especially when they look better than me…” She trailed off.

Stefan rolled his eyes this time. “Y/N...you’re also mine. Isn’t that something in itself? Something to fall back onto for comfort? I choose to be with you.” He narrowed his eyes at her. Y/N wouldn’t admit it. “Come on. Say it. You want to agree with me.” 

Yes she did. He was right and she was wrong which was usual. And she wanted to laugh at herself for how silly she was being. Stefan had never given her a reason not to trust him before.

“Come on Y/N.” He leans further across the table at her. Their moment was interrupted by the waitress. Stefan looked up with those big green eyes and the waitress nearly melted in the most visible way possible. Shuddering and all.

Y/N knew Stefan just proved her point. “This is your bill but I think it’ll be on me.” The waitress walked away with a noticeable sway in her hips. Stefan was being stared down by Y/N and awkwardly scratched his head. 

“I uh...” He coughed and read the bill. “It’s free food so...” He shrugged at her. Y/N frowned and sat back, crossing her arms. “Come on Y/N do you think I do that on purpose? I was born like this.” He ran his hands through his fluffy hair. “All joking aside I don’t want anyone else, baby.” He said gently again.

“No, you don’t do it on purpose. But I’m going to get you some contacts that make your pretty green eyes a shit brown color and then nobody will melt when they look into your eyes.” She hissed. 

“Y/N...” He started and was starting to become frustrated. They were interrupted again by a female plopping herself into the booth next to Stefan without so much as acknowledging Y/N. Y/N gasped. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, it was like someone cast a spell on her boyfriend and they couldn’t resist themselves. But to be fair Caroline did the exact same thing when the group met Stefan for the very first time.

“How about I write my number on that paper?” She playfully grinned. It was like Y/N didn’t exist and Stefan was growing more uncomfortable by the second. She had a hand loosely placed on his bicep and Y/N wasn’t sure if she should be seething or cry. How disrespectful and distasteful. No class whatsoever.

“Oh no we uh...” Stefan started scratching his ear. “Okay look, I’ve got a girlfriend sitting across from me. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop.” Always the gentleman. But Y/N wanted to see him snap.

Y/N huffed when the girl pressed her hand to Stefan’s jawline. She wanted nothing more than to see Stefan tear into her jugular now. “I’m leaving.” Y/N collected her things and headed for the front door. She had to be the bigger person, after all Stefan could handle himself. She knew he’d compel her or just completely walk away,

Stefan choked on air and pushed the stranger off of him who followed them outside. “Please stop. Y/N please….” He begged her. But she kept following them to the car into the dark alleyway. Y/N didn’t stop until she heard a gasp and teeth tearing into flesh.

Stefan huffed, taken aback by his sudden action. Blood smeared across his lips and dripped down his chin and into the collar of his shirt. The patterns that danced under his eyes faded and he was back to his sweet human self. He looked down at the lifeless body of the poor girl who followed them outside and Y/N could swear she almost felt bad.

He looked up at her and grinned crookedly at her and what he said next had a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Looks like I got two free meals tonight…” He started to collect the limp body in his arms to dispose of it.

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Sun, sand and Graves

Phillip Graves x Fem!reader!

Summary : due to unexpected circumstances, you find yourself trapped in a sunny paradise with your colleague and begin to learn what he’s like outside of work.

Word count : 1.7k

A/N : Hey everybody! If this gets enough attention then I plan to make a part 2! Yearning part 3 will also begin to be made soon. I just wanna say I’m sorry for being so busy 😭 I hope this will help me get back into my writing schedule. All I can say now is I hope you enjoy the fic!

Never in a million years could you have thought of this scenario. You couldn’t picture you and your superior, Phillip Graves, curled up underneath an umbrella as you tried to find the most comfortable dips in the sand to rest each limb.

Never.

Although, it wasn't like you wanted to be here. Sure, the breeze blew gently onto your skin as the waves rolled up and down the shoreline lazily and it was definitely the most relaxing moment of your life.

Yet you couldn’t settle completely knowing why you were stuck in this sunny paradise.

"They what?", you remember looking up from the folder handed to you to meet his eyes .

To your surprise, they were glistening with ambition.

"Think of it as a happy little accident, doll.", he smiled, now taking it back from your hands and tossing it aside as he was clearly dealing with more important issues.

“We've got a couple of days to spend here, so why not make the most of it?"

"That is so unprofessional."

You couldn’t help it, after so many years of training and constant work you’d become a stickler to your usual schedule. You would’ve thought Graves would be the same.

"Well, you won't be telling Shepherd or those others now, will you?", Graves lowered his voice, leaning in slightly.

"I don't think you're giving me a choice here." you rolled your eyes playfully, turning on your heel to exit the safe house and find anything that was suitable for the weather.

-

Looking out onto the water from your towel, it was therapeutic.

Until you heard him shuffling in his spot right next to you.

"... Do you mind?"

"Not at all.", he let out a chuckle, looking up at you through his aviators.

Graves was only wearing shorts, propping himself up on his elbows to 'catch a tan' as he called it.

It felt unprofessional, but it didn't stop you from stealing glances at him every now and then.

"So... You go to the beach often?"

You turned to look at him, raising a brow at his sudden urge to talk to you after working under him for years.

"Yeah.. Every summer when I'm off of work."

"Nice, nice.. You go with friends or family?"

"Uhm.. Both? Not at the same time-"

You paused.

"Are you bored? Is that why you’re interrogating me?”

"What? Now why would you say that?”, he now sat up, staring at you with a pointed look.

"Why don't you go flirt with the locals? I'm busy.", you urged, fighting the temptation to shove him onto his feet and away from your solace.

"Because we should stay together."

You cocked a brow at his behaviour, "I'm sure you won't get lost in the crowd, it's not like I'm going anywhere.”

"Well then I'm not going anywhere either.", he announced indignantly.

"You're not really acting like my superior right now."

Laying back down onto your towel, you crossed your arms over your waist and tried to day dream. Anything that didn’t involve the man in front of you.

"I have a life when I'm not your superior, you know.", he was looking down at you from his awkward, sudden crouch.

A large grin was plastered on his face.

“Look, why don't we just get a drink? Cool down, relax and enjoy our time."

“Fine.”

You got up and sighed at your situation.

You never thought you would be standing on the beach, dressed in a bikini about to order possibly alcoholic beverages with your commander.

After slipping off the robe you'd been wearing, the breeze hit your stomach and upper thighs gently and you relaxed at the cool sensation.

"You done daydreaming over there?", he tilted his head, gesturing for you to follow him.

You groaned, holding onto your sunhat as the breeze attempted to blow if off of your head while you hurried along to catch up to his confident strides.

Graves stopped by the bar, leaning across the table and waiting with a smile for the bartender. Once they approached, he cleared his throat.

"Right.. Err, you speak English?", he clocked a brow at the bartender who nodded, clearly unimpressed.

"Can I get two of whatevers strongest?"

"Phillip?", you put a hand on his shoulder, making him suddenly turn and look up at you.

"Hm?"

He didn’t seem phased from your touch which was odd. The two of you didn’t interact like this very often.

"I'll just have a beer and I think you should too."

He sighed, looking back at the bartender still drying a glass.

"Can I just get two beers, please? Thanks."

"You see? Let's have something normal before we start seeing stars or something.", you laughed and took your bottle of beer.

“Sure- thank you!” He called to the bartender as he slid over some cash and walked beside you.

“I can’t wait to get this over with.”

“Why? This is a one in a lifetime opportunity.”

“It’s.. weird.”

You shrugged, sitting back down onto your towel and taking swigs of your beer every now and then.

He lowered himself down beside you, squatting as he looked around like a child in a candy store.

This must be paradise for him. Sun, sea and beautiful women everywhere you turned. Men are so typical.

“You’ll get over the feeling soon. Believe me, I’ve only had this happen once before and it wasn’t even that close to this.”

The two of you sat for awhile, making idle conversation in bits and pieces that were initiated by him. You were too busy listening to the waves crash against the nearby rocks. Graves took the hint and left you alone.

-

The door clicked shut and you both seemed to loosen up as you entered the safe house. It had been such a calm day that your senses were heightened; you were still tense and cautious deep down.

“Fun day, hm?” He smiled at you, instantly pulling off the vest he’d lazily put on before leaving the beach.

He walked over to his bed, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his toned back.

You didn’t want your eyes to travel. This wasn’t a holiday or some sort of fantasy.

They still managed to scan his broad shoulders and structured muscles, savouring every scar or imperfection scattered across his skin.

“I’m going to have a shower.” You blurted out, hastily making your escape before you started to examine the waistband of his shorts.

You shut the door behind you, locking it and turning the water on. It was loud and a good enough distraction for at least a second until you were getting flashes of the slight scar that traced his waist bone and curved around to his back.

It had only been a day and you were becoming an animal.

What was going on?

Stripping down quickly, you almost jumped into the welcoming stream of water. It felt good to wash all of the sand and sweat off.

Your hands trailed over your body, which prompted you to think about Graves. You hand on his shoulder.

He was firm, possessing a sense of solidity which made sense as your commander.

But as a man, it just made you feel weak in the knees.

You wondered how his hands felt. Maybe they were rough, calloused from work. Maybe they were cold; his fingertips spreading shivers across your skin as they tried to figure out any sensitive spots.

As you scrubbed gently over your skin, a sudden knock sent your arms crossed over your chest.

“What?!”, you called, a little angry for the interruption.

“How long? I need to shower too, you know.”

“When I’m finished!”

You huffed to yourself, now massaging soap into your hair. You really were losing it.

He still didn’t have the right to interrupt you though, it was getting good.

Sighing, you continued developing this daydream while you washed your hair.

You sometimes saw him ruffle some of his shadows’ hair in a show of appreciation. It was cute.

Now, you tried to envision his hands knotting through your hair. Fingers tangling around strands which sent shoots of pain to your scalp. Pain mixed with pleasure.

You rinsed your hair out, movement becoming much more sharper. You stopped when some small strands were pulled out and you shook them off, stopping the shower.

It was your warning to yourself to keep these thoughts private. Possibly just keep them as daydreams in the shower to stop you from feeling lonely. Sometimes work was tough, you deserved the break.

Even if that meant imagining getting intimate with your colleague.

It’s fine, it’s not like he’d ever find out.

As you wrapped as towel around your body, you unlocked the door to find him standing outside with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re awfully impatient.” You commented, smirking a little at his glare.

“Sure, but I know you’d do the same.” He grinned back, poking your chest and immediately darting into the bathroom. The door clicked shut and you were left alone.

Did he just… poke you?

A tentative hand brushed over the spot that had just been touched.

It’s nothing. He probably didn’t think before acting.

You turn away and begin to put on some pajamas for the night. Soft and skimpy - a pair of thin, cotton shorts and a vest which hung loosely on your figure.

It was now the late afternoon.

Graves had finished his shower and you wanted to glue your face to your palms to prevent your eyes from gazing at his hips or happy trail. It was blonde.

You only knew that because his hair was blonde. Nothing more.

“You don’t fancy going out tonight?”

Your brows furrowed. That was out of line.

“I’m getting rest. Something that is rare when working for the Shadow corporation.”

You rolled on your side and now shuffled in your bed, trying to get comfortable.

“Hit a nerve there…” he sighed, sitting opposite you on his bed before continuing.

“Well, you can’t be tired already.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Alright, alright… I’ll leave you be.”, Graves pulled himself up, walking over to the little desk situated in the room. He fell back into the chair and whistled.

He was bored and you knew it.

You shot up from your bed, glaring at him.

He won this time.

“Fine! We can go out. Let me get changed…” you muttered, snatching your clothes and retreating to the bathroom after your bitter defeat.

He may or may not have whistled a celebratory tune as you passed by.

[railingsofsorrow]

Hi!! Hope you're doing fine! I was wondering about the one shot “the way I loved you” in the originals masterlist. I'm really curious and I wanted to ask when you plan on posting it?

a/n: I'm glad you asked. this has been sitting on my drafts for a while! happy I can finally post it. hope you like it!

The Way I Love(d) You

[stefan salvatore x reader; kol mikaelson x reader]

[all pictures belong to pinterest]

SONG INSPIRATION » THE WAY I LOVED YOU by taylor swift

summary: stefan salvatore is kind and sensible and you couldn't ask for anything better. but beneath the “you look beautiful tonight” you miss the "screaming and fighting" and the way his name slipped out of your lips at 2a.m. you liked assurance and perfection but you missed insanity. more than anything, you missed the way you loved him. you missed kol mikaelson.  

pairings: s.salvatore x f!vampire!reader; k.mikaelson x f!vampire!reader 

w.c: 9.4K (I got carried away)

warnings/content: portrayal of healthy and unhealthy relationships dynamic; discussion about life and death; blood (mentioned); non-graphic descriptions of violence; pregnancy (mentioned); slight damon and tyler bashing because they are the most annoying characters ever created; camille o'connell plays therapist; katherine pierce x reader (you blink you miss it); gemini coven (mentioned); discussions about marriage; canon divergence; fluff; happy ending depending on which you're rooting for; paragraphs in italics are flashbacks.

A/N²: this one shot does not follow the tvd + t.o original timeline, so some facts may be out of order.

[part of “the taylor swift anthology”]

navi

masterpost

tvd masterlist

t.o masterlist

[alternate ending]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ he is sensible and so incredible.

and all my single friends are jealous

he says everything I need to hear, and it's like I couldn't ask for anything better. ❞

“Did you arrive alright?”

You reply with a soft hum, distracted by the bag filled with books related to witchcraft. You really did not think you'd be swiped back to this city again, less alone acting as a librarian for the Original vampires for the hundred time in your life. Oh, well. Who could ever deny Rebekah Mikaelson of her wishes? You had been extremely close before, despite the unsaid goodbyes. She did try to threaten your life if you didn't come to New Orleans soon, but those were empty words. And you could easily take her in a fight – not that she could ever know that.

“Yes,” you say through the phone, remembering there was someone in the other line. “I'm settling in on the hotel.”

“Okay.”

“Stefan.” The corner of your mouth twitches slightly. “Say what you want to say.“

You hear him let out a breath as he usually does when he's holding something back.

“Are you sure you don't need me there with you? I could easily—”

“No,” you cut your fiancée off, albeit in a gentle manner. You sit down at the edge of your hotel bed, feeling the rough fabric of the mattress against your jeans as you inspect the cover of a rather thin book compared to the other thick ones scattered around. “Stefan, I'm perfectly fine. You don't have to worry. And I know you won't listen to me and you'll worry either way…” a smug grin stretches on your face when he tries to speak again. “… but I can handle myself, okay? You can call and text and I'll reply right back.”

Ever since you met Stefan Salvatore, he has had your best interest at heart. Not only yours, but everyone he cared about. In the friendship stage, he slowly inserted himself into your life, taking careful steps to not scare your cold heart away to the mountains. You never knew why, somehow, you had some importance to him. When you started dating, he made sure to introduce you to something that by no means you wanted to partake in: safety. Not the kind in which you are suffocated and trapped, but the kind in which you are held by someone and still are able to take a breath of fresh air. The real meaning of safety.

He takes you on dates and he opens up your car door as the perfect gentleman that he is. The line you look beautiful never straying from his compliments. It took you a while to get used to that. Being loved without having to look over your shoulder, being cared for by someone who would truly be there at the end of the day.

Stefan is safe. He is the warm blanket on a cold day with hot chocolate and a good book. He's the guy who never makes you wait while carrying that endearing softness around him. You couldn't ask for anything better.

“Yeah, alright.” He says with a resigned sigh. “You really don't want me there, huh?” The playfulness being drowned out by a tinge of hesitation in his tone that if you didn't know his tells, you might have missed it.

“You know that's not it.” The book is placed on top of the bedside table. Your choice has been made. “But I don't want to draw unnecessary drama into our lives. As soon as I can get this done, I can come back to New York. To you.”

He offers you a sound of contentment. “That sounds nice to me.” There is some ruffling on his end and he lets out a muffled groan. “Hey, beautiful? I have to go. Damon is hijacking our apartment.”

You briefly recall Stefan making a comment that his brother would visit you guys soon. That had been around a month ago? You are never one to question Damon and his stupid decisions. Fortunately, you were far away to deal with any of that.

“I'm sorry,” you mumble without masking your joy for not having to be present in the same room as Damon Salvatore. “Good luck and don't let him mess with my stuff or I'll personally break his neck and set his dick on fire.“

“I heard that!” You reply that it was meant for him to hear. “He's calling you a menace.” Stefan chuckles at your bickering but he eventually has enough. “Call me if you need anything, yeah? Be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too, and I believe you'll need more backup than I will.” You smile at his scoff and the call comes to an end.

You resist the urge to go to Russeau's to enter an alcoholic coma instead of facing the people you haven't spoken to in a decade. No, you have faced worse and what could possibly go wrong while visiting some old friends?

You snatch the book from the bedside table and tuck it under your arm.

Guess it's time to pay a visit to the Mikaelsons.

━━━━━

Meeting the Mikaelsons had been the best and the worst moment of your vampire life. Yes, some people could be both at the same time. You met Rebekah before you met the others, in a ball a really long time ago. The Mikaelson name had yet to be spread around like a disease due to the extreme danger they represented – where you lived, at least. Vampire groupies already had lots of knowledge about them at the time.

The thing was, you had no idea who Rebekah was until almost everyone in your city was murdered. Her brothers searched for her after a few years of radio silence, apparently. That's when you understood how protective family could be. Klaus, most of them. But that one was more obsessive and paranoid than any other. Rebekah told you that herself, but you saw it with your own eyes through the years you tagged along in their journey.

You have to say that out of anyone in that family, Klaus Mikaelson would be the last person you'd expect to become a father.

He was the one responsible for practically destroying Katerina Petrova's life, along with many other people you couldn't care to mention right now. She had been your friend once, before she became a nuisance in your life. But still. Klaus was ruthless and anyone capable of making an enemy out of him realized the bitter poison that came with it; if not death, of course.

Nevertheless, the cruel reputation of the Mikaelson family did not belong to Klaus only. In levels of pent up rage, you could easily mention Elijah. He was nothing but kind to you in the moments you've spent as friends, but you were aware of the demons he kept at bay for most of his existence. The man tries hard to be a good person and, in your opinion, he achieved that in all of the senses, although he was never really one to trust other people's opinions about him, whether they'd be good or bad.

Elijah could be just as cruel as Klaus, but as Klaus was loud in a broadcaster type of way, Elijah was silently dreadful.

Finn and Freya were the last ones you encountered. They were both gentle in their own way. As Freya kept up a mask right after breaking her curse, doubtful and distrusting, Finn was overall distasteful towards his own kind. You noticed that between the countless times he attempted to kill his siblings and himself. At first, you held a grudge over the fact that your boyfriend (back then) could never catch a break from his own brother. But eventually you understood Finn's reasons and everything that was left was sympathy. You had trouble adjusting to the vampire life yourself, mostly the drinking blood part but also the eternal life bit as well. Living and dying was something you had never doubted. It was the cycle of life, after all, why would you question it?

Some days, you didn't want it. But those became rare ones as you tasted the sweet flavor of having people that went through the same dilemma by your side. They made everything bearable. You just hoped Finn could also find those people, if not his siblings, then maybe he could find peace somewhere far from them. He had every right of taking some time away if that was his wish.

Family can be suffocating.

Freya had been one of the nicest people you have ever met. Beneath that cold front she built before warming up to the Mikaelsons, there was a tender-hearted woman whom one day you used to call your friend. Freya was there when you crumbled down, she had been the one to help you pull yourself up and she was the one who let you know it was okay to leave if that's what you needed to do. If that's what your heart desires, do it. Her words never left you in some way, you were forever grateful.

Hayley entered your life before she became an honorary Mikaelson – she hated that joke. You helped her find information about her pack when both of you were still back at Mystic Falls. She had been the first person to point out Stefan's interest in you, though you didn't buy it. You actually became closer during her pregnancy. You weren't present in Hope's first months after she was born, but Hayley made sure to send you occasional pictures over the years. You didn't feel so out of the loop thanks to that.

And then, there was Kol.

The epitome of recklessness, wrath and chaos.

He was the a car accident that drove you over a bridge when you couldn't swim and a pillow fort you built overnight to dissipate your nightmares. Kol was the reason why you considered the Mikaelsons to be both the best and worst moment of your life. He was the rollercoaster that fed your desperation for love, displaying a pretty view at the top of the ride, before the crash eventually came and killed all that excitement.

Neither of you expected to fall so fast for one another. Or fall at all.

But he pushed his way into your heart with no permission granted, with his convinced smirks, wild persona and careless nature. He was cold in a warm manner. Tender in the way he held your fingertips with the same bloody hand that also had possession of your heart. And unbelievably good as he cared enough to let you into his heart.

You were too similar for it not to happen, until you were too different to remain together.

Kol Mikaelson conveyed all of the rumors that were spread about him, never once hiding behind a mask, and that's the reason you fell in love with no way back. It had never been an easy choice – choice... that's funny. Does love ever give you a choice? — his enemies became your enemies, you were a target, besides the unstoppable family hassle you always seemed to be involved in. In spite of the obvious reasons, the grounds for breaking up arose from him, surprisingly. Or not so surprisingly. It may have been his way of running away, but it was your way out of the mess he created in your head and heart. According to Hayley, he wasn't left unscathed. He suffered in a way that they had never seen before: through silence.

Kol had never been silent. He craved an audience, which was why he enjoyed discounting his ire on people. He wanted them to fight back in order for him to retaliate much harder. After you left, he didn't murder villages, tortured old enemies or provoked his siblings enough to get a rise out of them. You weren't that surprised once Hayley told you he left as well. What truly left you bewildered was the fact that he didn't cause trouble, turning into a shadow of the wildest Mikaelson people used to hear about.

You couldn't bear to feel guilty. If he wasn't being himself, that was his own doing. He left you first. Looking into the bright side, maybe he had finally mustered the act of growing up.

However, even with the all the heartache he had caused you, loving him was never a regret. You don't know if he felt the same, maybe you'd never know.

Stepping inside the Mikaelson manor made you self-conscious but still nostalgic. You hadn't lived in that house, of course they had built up many other expensive properties over the decade you've been gone. But there is something in the air when the Mikaelsons are around. And it isn't death or blood that you were referring to.

“Are you the friend my mom said was coming to visit us?”

A little girl with dark red hair met you in the entrance of the house. A stuffed bunny dangling from her small hands. You couldn't believe your eyes, but in the meantime you observed her sage green eyes that carry a brush of cinnamon and the tip of her nose, the familiarity practically slapping you in the face.

“I believe so,” you croak out as your lips quirk up in a soft smile. You tell her your name, introducing yourself and say, “and you must be Hope.”

“That's right.“ She gives you a little wave. You nearly leap on your feet at the idea that you're not considered a stranger for her to immediately turn away as parents would advise children. “I'll tell my mom you're here so she can invite you in.”

You nod, leaning on the door, you could feel the spell barely pushing you away. A harsh breeze brush your strands in your face and you roll your eyes at the familiar scent of a hybrid nearby you.

“I have lipstick on, you know how that does not match with hair?“ Two arms engulf you in a strong embrace. You can't help but laugh as your body entwines with Hayley's. “Hay,“ you mumble to her shoulder. “You are kind of ten times stronger than me. Perks of being a hybrid and all...“

“Oh, please. I should be actually crushing you.”

When she cups your cheeks, like a mother would when her child has been gone for too long, you stare at the sage green eyes you had just seen in the entrance. “I missed you too.“ Hayley gives you an eyeroll, letting you go as she asks Hope to let you in. Ah, it made sense. She's not a vampire.

Hope smiles timidly at you as you enter the foyer, her gaze switching to her mother almost pleadingly. Hayley mentions with a tilt of her chin towards the backdoor and Hope quickly rushes away to what you assume is the backyard of the house.

“She's playing hide and seek.“ Hayley clarifies their short interaction, turning to you. “When did you arrive?“

“Today.“ You say, lifting the book to her line of sight. “I told you I kept something that could help.“

“I know,“ she smiles gratefully. Hayley hasn't aged a day since you last met. Of course, she isn't physically able to age at all due to vampirism, but her perpetually concerned gaze was replaced by relaxed shoulders and a proud smile. She has joy written all over her. For the looks of it, motherhood has done her good.

“She's like a mix of you and Klaus.“ You watch the girl running around searching for whoever she's playing with. Hayley takes you to the balcony, the view is pretty that it takes a bit of your breath away. The forest on display is filled with orange and yellow because of the Autumn season. You've always found the sounds of the forest were the perfect noise to live close by.

“So I've heard.” Hayley crosses her arms above the railing, driving her attention to you after pointing somewhere to Hope who's in desperate need of help in the seeking aspect of the game. “How's your life been?” She asks, shifting her whole body towards yours. “New York, huh?”

You nod, imitating her previous position. “Yes. It's a great city.” She remains silent, probably waiting for you to elaborate. It's not like this is a casual visit and the Mikaelsons could be in any corner with their enhanced hearing. Not that you're ashamed of your current life, you just don't feel like yelling from the rooftops.

“That ring is pretty.” Hayley muses when you avoid looking at her. She can see your blush and her eyes soften at that. It's been so long since she has seen you remotely happy, she likes the sight. “You seem happy.” Her squeeze in your shoulder states reassurance. “I hope he doesn't screw up or I'll be coming over with more than just an army.“ A deep groan escapes your throat as your head falls on your forearm.

“You are worse than a whole freaking army.“

“You missed me.“

Shaking your head, your lips twitch in a bitter smile.

“Of course I missed you, Hayley.“ Your smile falls slightly as you see that Hope finally found who she's been looking for in the past half hour.

Kol is coming out from behind a tree and dramatically throwing himself on the grass as Hope's giggles echo around.

“I missed all of you.” Slips out in a whisper.

As soon as Hayley follows your gaze, she picks up the reason for the sudden change in your demeanor. This is what she's been trying to delay.

There's no point now. “He came back at the beginning of this year.” You blink, turning away from the cute scene happening right below you. “Said he missed his niece. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.”

She steps away from the balcony and that's what it takes for you to stop staring at a playful Kol tickling Hope to death.

“Why wouldn't it be a good thing?” You swallow hard, sitting down on one of the loveseats. The ceiling is not bland white as you expected it to be, as you analyse the colors and the shapes, you recognize the famous painting you've been in love with since it was first made.

Van Gogh's Starry Night brings the ceiling alive with the false sensation of movement the circular brush strokes provides.

“He's teaching her magic and she makes some of my stuff disappear for fun. Kol's such a bad influence— Oh.” Hayley's face stretches into a smile upon seeing where you were staring at. “Klaus painted it. This is Hope's bedroom.”

That's when you realize the soft blue on the walls along with colorful drawings clearly made by a child.

“It's beautiful.” You let out in admiration. “God, that bastard is talented.”

Hayley huffed, “Yeah, well, ever since you mention it in that very first Skype call she can't stop talking about it. So he painted it.”

Leaning back on the chair, you glance at her. “That's such a dad thing of him.” She shrugs in silent agreement. “He's not a bad influence,” you utter after the conversation dies down. You're not referring to Klaus. “He loves children, that's just his way of teaching her how to protect herself.” In extreme cases. It's better to teach her to protect herself instead of delaying it when she actually needs it.

Hayley's eyes travel across your features for a while and just as you begin to grow self-conscious of what you said, she flips the topic back to the real issue at hand.

“So, do you usually keep old grimoires in a secret passageway at your apartment or something?”

Your lips raise in amusement, “It's from an old friend. He lent it to me for safekeeping.”

The hybrid's eyes regarded you with suspicion, then she glances down at the book in her hands.

“Should I even be touching that?”

“C'mon,” you say in jest. “My friends aren't that bad.”

“I am not that bad. The Mikaelsons are certainly debatable and if I can recall someone called Katherine Pierce who was also considered your friend — who I still doubt that it was all that she was — then we need to discuss what you mean by not that bad.”

“Should I mention Tyler dogbreath Lockwood, Hayley? He was a nuisance!” You throw back in a complete mature way. “I can't believe you would voluntarily hold a conversation with the guy.”

Hayley snickers, “He wasn't as bad as you make him out to be.”

“You're right,“ you nod. “He was worse.“

Hayley hums, quietly analyzing the grimoire with what you can tell is interest that leads to boredom. She closes it in a thud and stands up. “I'll have to give this to Davina.“

You frown in confusion, following her out of the room. “The Claire witch? You're trusting that teenager with the life of my niece?” Your tone raises in light disbelief as Hayley descends the stairs completely unbothered by your accusation. “Where is Freya? Where is everyone— You can't possibly be serious, Hayley.”

“Freya is generously taking an early flight back to Virginia as we speak, cutting her honeymoon short. She was the one who requested Davina to be put to use in this task, if I can recall.” You knew it was Elijah before you saw his impeccable suit, merely because of his eloquence. He offers you a smile as you reach the living room. “Welcome back.” You're amused by the way he ignores your attempt at handshaking to lay a kiss on the back of your hand. He's always done that, it's no surprise. That's an Elijah thing to do. His eyes fall on your left hand. “And congratulations on your engagement. I've heard.”

You give him a close lipped smile in return, withdrawing your hand to cross your arms.

“Yes, it seems that everyone has.”

“You know, the term being put to use might not be taken as a good thing to every person.” The voice behind you causes your body to freeze. “Hello, stranger.”

Elijah is gone with the wind before you can notice and Hayley, who seems to have ventured off somewhere, still isn't back.

“She's not a stranger, Uncle Kol.” Hearing Hope's voice as you turn around is a form of relief, you admit. She's smiling kindly at you from her Uncle Kol's shoulders. “That's mom's friend. Remember, the one she told us was coming over?“

Kol acts fascinated. “That is true, Hope. Thank you for reminding me.”

She giggled, mouthing out to you above his head “Forgetful.”

You crack a smile at that. Mikaelson humor.

It doesn't take long for Hope to get tired of your attention and scurry away to her bedroom. And then, there were two.

How do you greet someone who broke your heart but still has a part of it with them?

“You look beautiful.”

You can affirm something: do not start like that.

“Thank you.“ You reply shortly. The stairs are right there, you could literally take a step back and you'd be on your way to the first floor. Still, you remain in the same place.

You had yet to look him in the eye since he entered the living room. That doesn't happen until he stops right in front of you.

The first thing you notice about Kol was his voice. Centuries back, when you first met, he had said your name before you even acknowledged his family. It slipped out of his tongue; honey mixed with pepper. A strange mixture that ends up being perfect once you taste.

Saying someone's name is like holding a secret beneath your tongue. You have the power to reveal it, you can pronounce it and you can choose to savour it to yourself. The taste is not made for everyone, it is reserved for you and you only. And he had that power from the first moment he called out your name.

“How's married life going?“

Your head tilts in confusion as his eyes are cast downwards. A scowl turns your lips into a frown. Just like that, the peaceful haze is over.

“Not married,” you say through gritted-teeth, turning away from him and from the flight of stairs. You want to get out of this house. If someone else asks about anything related to marriage again you'd probably snap.

“Yet, right?”

“That's what engagements work for, have you not had your fair share of those to understand that?” He has followed you outside and is faster than you since he's currently leaning with his body on your car door. Arms crossed and a side smile.

You hated to know what that meant. You hated that you knew him at all.

“Can you move?“ You snap, eyes narrowing. Kol hums softly as if he's considering your request. Dick. “Okay, I'll walk then.”

The defeated sigh you heard as you turn your back on him is almost a reason to make you relieved. But your arm was pulled back and that cold touch just made your whole body halt instantly.

❝ but I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain... ❞

“Can you stop being stubborn for a second?” He exclaims, kicking the car door shut as he walked with heavy steps towards you.

The rain softly paints the car windows with its tears. You forced him to step on the breaks so you could get out of the vehicle because of how mad you were. You couldn't remember the reason for the fight, but it happened and you didn't want to be around him.

“It's going to rain.”

You scoff, “I'm not made of sugar. I can handle a little rain.”

The thunder rolls in the sky, causing you to flinch slightly. A cold hand grabs your wrist.

“You'd rather walk in a thunderstorm than argue with me, is it?” Kol shrugs off his jacket with a scowl, covering your shoulder with it in a swift movement, one he had done many times before. “Real mature, love.” He shoves the car keys into your hand.

“What—”

“Take the car.” He had sped off before you could ask him to go to hell. Because no. You wouldn't take his car and leave him in a freaking thunderstorm. But he decided that just like he decided to put an end to your relationship.

“Stay.“ He says, drawing his hand back with hesitance. That quickly brought you back to the present. “I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry.” That's one of the rarest moments you've heard him apologize, it didn't used to be something in his vocabulary.

“I'll just wait for Freya at the hotel. It's not like we can start the spell before she's here.” You clear your throat, a bit taken aback by his presence still. You feel so silly.

Kol nods thoughtfully, taking a step back from you as if you aren't allowed to be too close. “Okay.” And before you can enter your car and drive off, your ears are still very much in tune with his voice even if he's all the way inside the house. “It's good to see you again.”

You're not sure if you share the same feeling.

━━━━━

“This is from the Gemini coven.”

You turn away from Davina's chanting to stare at Freya's impassive stance. She always kept that façade while doing magic.

“And what of it?“ Freya gives you a sideways glance as you roll your eyes, leaning back on the wall as the Witch finishes up the spell and mutters something to Hayley. Freya has done her part and for some reason they needed another set of hands. You don't question it. “Don't fret. There'll be no retaliation.”

“Good, because we don't need a crazy siphoner touring around New Orleans.”

You crack a chuckle, brushing your hair behind your ear. “The grimoire is technically mine.” Freya's eyes narrow suspiciously at your claim. “What? It is. It was a gift.”

“Kai Parker gave you a gift?” She regards you with disbelief. You shrug in response, it's the truth. It's not like you were capable of stealing something from Malachai Parker and leave unscathed. He is a tiny bit insane and you aren't special.

“She has a thing for K's, doesn't she?” You flinch at the breath in your neck. It earns Rebekah a glare as she walks around the pillar you were leaning on, her smirk takes her whole face, granting mischief in her blue eyes.

“We're done.”

You cut off your jab towards Rebekah when Davina's voice reaches your attention.

“Just like that?”

Freya gives you another one of her warning looks but you are facing the Claire Witch with a hard gaze. You didn't trust her then and you wouldn't trust her now. And it has nothing to do with her age nor the lack of experience in the magic department — or life, in general — it was more of a grudge you held for the girl ever since she messed with your family. You recalled quite well how she had weakened the Mikaelsons and played a part in Marcel's stupid plan to destroy all of them. Almost. You hated both of them with your every being. No matter how Klaus may have forgiven Marcel for it or how Hayley claims that Davina was manipulated.

“We did everything that was in the grimoire. She's safe.” Her voice carries defiance and you could certainly enjoy the opportunity to play into her attitude.

A low hum left your lips and you hear someone sigh around the room, you couldn't concentrate enough to name who it was but you have a guess.

“Okay. That's great.” You utter, mouth widening into a satisfied grin. You like the way she regards you with caution as you stride over. “You're gonna need that?” You ask in a whisper, pointing towards the book in her small hands. She hands it over to you, you take it slowly, mumbling a thank you and offering a sickly sweet smile. Your distaste is a mutual feeling, you're glad to know.

The entire family heads back to the Mikaelson manor. Despite Rebekah's pestering for you to go with them, you manage to escape for some alone time.

Rousseau's is where you end up after walking aimlessly through the city. Some things have changed. There are a few new musicians playing in the corners of the streets, but those familiar faces still there as well. The streets are illuminated by the lampposts scattered around the French Quarter, the shadows of the streetlights dancing at your feet remind you of times where you'd feel happiness holding you together. The bittersweet moment is interrupted by something soft tickling your ankle, causing you to jump in surprise. Quite literally.

“Never seen a cat before?” Someone mocks your tense stance as you watch the feline exit the bar.

You would have snapped their neck if the sweet smile of Camille O'Connell didn't reach your eyes right away. She's drying up glasses on the counter, probably getting ready to close the establishment, it was around the time she usually did.

“Can you spare this poor soul a bit of alcohol?”

“I'll never get used to that,” Camille says, shaking her head and the sound of titling metal made your face stretch into a grin. “You're not old enough to drink.” She starts preparing your favourite drink. Alcohol isn't your favourite thing in the world, but Cami's drinks are sweet enough to appease your taste buds. You didn't spend hours wallowing in this bar with nothing to accompany you — the alcohol and Camille's ears to listen to your misery.

Your nose wrinkles. “I am over 400 years old, Cami. How many times have we been over this?”

She tsked, curling her lower lip, throwing the cloth on her shoulder as she leans on the bar top.

“You look like seventeen.”

“That's flattering?” You muse, sipping your blue beverage. “I can't even remember what my seventeens were like.” That last part you mumbled to yourself.

“At what age did you turn?” Her voice is sad and you start grieving the fun of the moment.

Taping your nails against the wood distractedly, you work on pulling the terrifying moment from the abyss of your mind. Camille's gaze trails over your features in her own curiosity.

“It's been a while, huh?” She felt the need to change the subject. That made you crack a smile. Did she think she had genuinely upset you?

“Ten years or so.”

“Yes.” She says pointedly. “What brings you back?” She finally finishes cleaning up and you realise you're probably delaying her sleep schedule, but she hasn't complain about your overstay and you don't mention it.

You decide on telling her the truth. “Family stuff.” The partial truth, that is. “I died in 1603,” you refer to her previous question. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “I had recently entered my twenties. Can say now that I never got out of it.”

She didn't laugh at your joke, but you did.

“I'm sorry. Do you still...”

“Remember it?”

“Yes.”

You shrug nonchalantly. “It was a life changing event. So, yeah. I do remember it. But it doesn't make me feel anything anymore. It's something I no longer care about.” That's the truth. The memory doesn't affect you as much as it used to.

Cami nod, a strand of her hair slipping from behind her ear. She brushes it back and you tilt your head at the bracelet in her wrist. Once that has been there ever since you first visited Rousseau's.

“You still wear it.” You point out. She frowns confused, but her gaze follows where your attention lays and she hums.

“Yes. Can't have myself walking around the zoo with no defense.”

“The zoo—” you can't suppress the snort that comes out of you. “I can't believe you just said that.”

“I did.” Camille puts her hand on your shoulder and you deflect lightly. Guess it's time to leave. “I'm closing up. It's almost 1 am.”

“Sorry, Cami.” You shouldn't have bothered her that much. “Can I walk you home?”

It's her turn to chuckle. She locks up the bar and spins around to face you, a knowing glint in her bright blue eyes. You don't like that look. It kind of reminds you of Caroline when she knows something about yourself that you don't. Or that you just don't want to admit yet.

You miss her too.

“Are you really that desperate to avoid your problems?” You gape at her. “C'mon. Did you actually come here so I could make you a Grasshopper?” Oh, so that is the name of the drink you've had since forever. Good to know.

“I wanted some company.” You confess, rolling your eyes as she waits for you to follow her steps. Half the truth, again. This was the best place to avoid your problems — one problem. “Is that such a crime?”

“You sound like Klaus.”

“Stop offending me or I'll kill you.”

“Go ahead. I'm sure you'll like it when my blood burns your throat from how much vervain I've been taking.”

Your lips quirk up in a lopsided grin.

“I'm just going to say something, feel free to ignore it.” Cami announces as you crossed the street. You've arrived at her apartment. When you stop in front of the entrance and she turns her full body to you, her face has lost all the merriment. “I don't know why you are back. I don't even know the entire reason why you left so suddenly.” That makes you grow tense. “But that's none of my business. What I want to say is that, don't allow what let you down get to you again. If you think that getting out of here, taking some space to yourself, was good, then so be it. It's your life, okay? You deserve to be happy.”

You stand quiet for a while, absorbing everything she had said.

“I am.” You say quietly. “I am happy.” Away from here.

She smiles down at you, then, surprisingly, pulls you into a hug. Cami and you have never been close. You just listened to each other's complaints in the midst of the bar's loudness. You grew to have a bond but it was nothing as tight-knit as what you had with Freya or Hayley. Although, you did miss Cami while you were gone. She was the only one who knew how to make a good Grasshopper, anyway.

“Stop by the bar before you take off god-knows-where again.” She requests after you split apart.

“I'll think about it.” You bury your hands on your jacket with a smile as she bids you goodbye.

The city is never completely quiet. There's local music playing in some corners still at that time of the day. You realise you have reached Jackson Square when you put a pause on your walk, listening and breathing into New Orleans. Even the smell is different, maybe it is the lack of tragedy in the streets. You hope it carries on that way, Hope deserves to live peacefully. Or as peaceful as Hayley Marshall's and Klaus Mikaelson's daughter can live.

“Can you step out of there? It's getting ridiculous.” A woman crossing the street gives you an ugly look and you couldn't care less. You were talking to the Edward Cullen beside the tree a few feet back from where you stand. “How long have you been following me like a creepy stalker?”

“I've just arrived.” Kol says. You can see him rolling his eyes without taking a look at him. “And I wasn't following you.”

“Oh,” you blink innocently at him. “Sorry. I didn't know you had become such a religious man over the course of ten years.”

St. Louis Cathedral has all of its lights off, which means it's closed for the night. It's not like you wanted to enter the church in the first place, you just thought it looked pretty this time of the night. You'd frequent that area a lot to read a book when you were bored. Kol never shared that particular interest.

❝ and It's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name...❞

“This paranoia between you and Klaus is getting out of hand.” You mention to him one night as he turned your room upside down looking for something he would not inform you about. “You better put all of that back because I will not.” You say with a shake of your head, frustrated.

“He has the dagger. I have nothing to protect myself with.”

“So run away again. It's what you do best.” You let out. Only realising what you had done after it slips past your lips. The room is quiet, the silence deafening to the point where you flinch at the sound of creaking wood.

It wasn't the bed. It wasn't the wardrobe. When you glimpse at the door, hesitantly, it has been left ajar.

He did what you asked.

You remember inhaling deeply before throwing a jacket over your shoulder and grabbing the book of the week to read at Jackson Square, viewing the passerby's that would enter and exit St. Louis Cathedral.

“You'd come here and sit on that bench right over there with a new book every week.”

Your chest latches onto unwanted nostalgia you should desperately trying to get rid of. It makes your arms go numb and a cold shiver run down your spine. You blink at him. You knew?

“What?” You grunt, slightly disoriented.

Kol seems lost in his head, much like you were a few seconds ago, but he has a bigger grasp on reality than you do. “I thought it was more of something out of spite that you did. Sit in front of a church. Watch people leave. Choose a prey and feed on them to make them somehow question their faith.”

Furrowing your brows in thought, you consider out loud, “You thought that I'd come here to prove a point?”

He shrugs. The repetitive kicking of rocks tells you he is more nervous than he's letting on. Kol could mask his feelings well, his first choice of emotion would be anger and he'd just about use it to everything and everyone.

Over the years you'd notice some tells beneath all that rage. There was resentment and there was sadness. And now you can see guilt. You wonder if you're simply imagining something you want to see instead of what's actually there.

“What are you doing here, Kol?”

You're tired. You're beginning to think that Stefan was right and you should have evaluated the pros and cons of being in this fucking city before choosing the first flight five minutes after Rebekah's text.

“I missed you.”

“No.” You ignore the way you want to run away at what feels like sincerity coming out of his mouth. “What are you really doing here?”

His lips twitch and you think that familiar smirk will appear, but it doesn't. Just a sad smile.

“I missed you.” He repeats firmly as if not to let it hang in the air enough for confusion. There is no dubious meaning. He is not playing a game. “I haven't had a chance to say that when you were here.”

You take your time surveying his features. He had cut his hair, but you noticed that when he was playing with Hope in the backyard. His style is still the same, the moles still in the same spots around his cheeks and neck, his cupid's bow hasn't changed either. Kol's physique barely suffered any alterations, but he is different. Suddenly, you remember Hayley and the new spark in her eyes.

They both mirror people who have let go of their demons. The ones who scratch your skin and sink into your shoulders claiming your body as well as your mind as theirs. It is impossible to escape all of them at once, but time makes it bearable to live with some as you learn to let go of others.

“What do you mean?” You sit at edge of a bench. Not the one you used to sit almost every week. That would be too much. He understands the space left is for him to occupy after a moment. “That you haven't had the chance to say it when I was here. Why would you miss me while I was here?”

You know exactly why. You felt that all the time with him. Most of the time you dated a shadow in place of the man you loved and it is sad that, at some point, you got used to it.

“Because I wasn't. I wasn't here when I should have been and you were gone before I could help it.” A wave of regret travels across his features and you turn away before your gazes can meet. “And yes, I have no right of saying that after—after—”

“Ten years?”

“... ten years.” You complete at the same time. “I lost your trust. I lost you. Which is something that I'll never forgive myself for. I just... I just need you to know—”

“Don't.”

He furrowed his eyebrows as you stood up, running a hand through your face in pure... frustration? Anger? Fear? Yes. Fear. He is being unpredictable. Kol Mikaelson is unpredictable, it's one of the many traits of his you spend a long time admiring, until it became a burden in your relationship.

But after ten years you had no idea how to deal with this and you don't want to deal with it. Not now. Not after you and him were over.

He says your name almost pleadingly.

“Kol, don't.” You cut him off. “You can't do this now. You just can't.” You flinch away when he tries to touch you as a form of comfort. You didn't want that comfort. Not from him. Not anymore.

His eyes soften and there's hurt in them but you can't do this now. It's not fair. “I'm not trying to do anything.”

“Yes, you are!” You croak out, slightly shaken up. “Whatever you have to say doesn't make a difference now.”

You see his jaw clench slightly. Good. You want him to be angry. At least this side of him you can handle because you'll attack just as hard.

“I'm sorry.”

Your eyes snap to him. “I'm sorry.” Kol repeats, walking towards you with much more certainty. “I was a coward, immature and just overall selfish. I shouldn't have left, but I did and that doesn't change the past, but, but I loved you. I truly did. If I could go back—”

“You can't.” Your lower lip curl between your teeth. You can't take anything back. You can't undo the past. “You can't make it better, Kol.” You say, attempting to hold your self together in front of the boy who broke your heart into pieces. You still haven't found all of them yet, they were scattered, some beyond repair. “I was a mess without you. Do you know how long it took for me to pick myself back up?”

“You shouldn't have left.” You harshly clean a tear that travels down your cheek. “If you hadn't, if you had given me a chance to, to be there for you, then, yes, it would all be different. Trust me. It would. But because of what you did, it's not.” Admitting that to yourself took too long and it was the hardest thing you had to do, but admitting that to him? No. It felt freeing. It felt liberating. It felt fair.

There was a point in which all you could think about was making him suffer the way you did. Because he deserved it. How can someone claim to love you so deeply and then vanish from your life?

However, it isn't really the anger that prevails as he stands in front of you at Jackson Square, trying to apologize for years of pain that he had caused. As soon as you spill your heart out, the only thing left is sadness and nostalgia. You miss the screaming and fighting. You miss his stupid obsession with magic. You miss his sincerity, because till this day, no one would throw the truth in your face like Kol did. You miss the excitement. You miss his insanity. You miss him.

Loving Kol Mikaelson had not been easy. Still, you wouldn't go back on your choice if you had the chance. Because loving him had been a choice, one you've made for nearly five decades. And letting him go had driven you to the edge and brought you back to life.

Yes, you miss him. But it's not strange the fact that, deep down, you'll always miss someone you fell in love with. Even if they didn't carried your heart as carefully as you deserved. They were still part of you. Maybe, they always would be.

“I know.” He says, voice rough. You'd barely hear him if you didn't have enhanced hearing. “I regret it every single day of my life.” His eyes follow as you lean back in the bench. You're sitting in opposite ones. He stares at you as if you're a wounded animal, afraid to approach. His red-rimmed eyes make your heart clench.

You think about how funny it is that your body can react the same to a person. As if they're permanently marked into your soul.

Kol had never said what you wanted to hear. The truth was the only thing that escaped from his lips, even if it would absolutely crush you.

He was real and he pulled you back from the edge many times before. Even if he had been the one pushing you over that same edge afterwards.

This truth is crushing you. But it is a pain you must feel in order to fully move on.

You exhale slowly. “I know you do.” You can see the clear regret in his eyes. It's sipping through his soul and it may have eaten some part of him during these years. You don't feel okay with that. Strangely as that may be, you don't wish his suffering.

“Do you?” He lets out faintly, uncertain. “I'm not— I am not saying any of that with cruel intentions. I never meant to hurt you. I love you, but,”

“... but it wasn't enough to make you stay.” You swallowed with difficulty.

“No.” You glance up at him, something in your chest shatters. You don't know if his honesty is something you crave now. “I miss you. I never stopped missing you, no matter how hard I tried. And I, I don't know how to change that.”

“You can't.” You say, feeling like you can breathe properly after such a long time. “Because I miss you too, Kol.” and I love you. Not the same way, but I do. “It's not something we can change, it's just there. Maybe time will somehow make it better.”

“Really?” The hope in his voice grips you tight. That desperation to move on. To forget. You relate to that so much. “Is that what you think? Sounds too human to come from you.”

You let out a scoff, throwing your head back. “What does that even mean, Mikaelson?”

His deep chuckle brings a small smile out of you.

“Time is necessary for everyone.” You watch him quietly. He has the same tell from before; when his head is full, he plays with the ring in his index finger. Whenever he did that, you'd curl your fingers around his shoulder and squeeze it, he'd relax under your touch.

You would miss that. But you can live without it. You can live without him just as he can live without you. You know it's for the better.

It's almost four in the morning when you arrive back in the hotel. The first thing you do is take a shower, then throw yourself in bed pretending it is the one in your bedroom at your home. Soft and with your favorite pillows. Not the real scratchy and thin bedding you currently have.

It doesn't work, so you dial the familiar number in your phone to actually hear home from the line.

“I'm sorry to be dumping this on you.”

“You're dumping nothing on me.“ Stefan retorts and you can clearly see him shaking his head. “Hey, you handled Ripper-me, if I can't handle you talking about your ex then what does that say about me?“

You stare at the ceiling, “Ripper-you wasn't that terrifying.“ You mock him, earning a snicker that makes your entire being warm.

“I'm certain some people would disagree a little bit.”

“Eh,” You shrug, kicking the comfort off of your legs. “Nothing I can't handle, baby.”

When his chuckles dies down, his tone comes back slightly serious and you pick up on the tinge of concern in it. Same as the day before.

You've unleashed your still-fresh wounds to Stefan a few minutes back. There's no one else you wanted to talk to after everything that's happened. You needed safety, you needed someone to ground you, to stop you from spiraling out of control. Stefan always does that.

He doesn't question too much nor does he judge the situation. He must have expected something like that would end up happening. Part of you wishes he would yell at you, telling you that he had been right and you should have listened to him from the start. Instead, he just listens.

Stefan understands that just as it's Kol, for you. It's Elena, for him. And there's nothing none of you can do about it.

“You can always come to me for anything,” he breaks the silence. “I'm here, I'm not going anywhere.”

Inhaling sharply, fiddling with your engagement ring, you ask, “Why?”

Why aren't you running away? Why do you want to deal with me for the rest of your life?

“Because I love you. And I'm not only here for the good times but also the bad times. I'm here for the ugly truth and I'll still be here for the worst part.” Your breathing is labored at this point. You refrain from telling him you don't deserve it. You don't deserve that he stays. You don't deserve that he's still here after everything. But it's his choice and he's choosing to love you with your baggage.

“For better and for worse. In sickness and in health, right?”

The snort that escapes you is nothing but awful. “You're an idiot.“ You shake your head, pressing the phone closer to your ear as if that would make him closer to you.

You can practically see his smirk through the phone. “But I'm your idiot.” He seems to ponder over your silence. “Ugh, that was cheesy, wasn't it?”

“Yes,” you confirm, biting your lip to avoid a stupid grin. “don't do that ever again.” You order, knowing he will most certainly do it more than ten times. Because that is how Stefan is like. He tells you bad jokes in bad moments to make you feel better, he keeps you company through a phone call for how long you need comfort for and he's the one that makes you feel perfectly fine at the end of the day.

“Please don't break-up with me, we're almost getting married.”

“I'll consider this plea.”

The conversation ends up reaching something lighter when he asks about Hope and Hayley. You tell him about Hope and how bright she is, you detail the tiny differences of New Orleans from before and now and you confess you miss him. Because you do.

In the end, this trip was good. It unfolded a part of your story that had been buried down in a drawer for a long time. You needed closure and you had it tonight. It's bittersweet and it's nostalgic and it's sad but it is necessary.

Which is why you no longer have doubts about your future. Everything seems perfectly clear now that you've confronted your past, the monsters do not look so big anymore.

“I love you,” he says. The line had gone silent for a while as both of you seem to be thinking over to yourselves.

His hoarse voice and clipped tone tells you that he's as affected by this trip as you are. You want to comfort him, saying that there's nothing you need to worry about, I'll come back, I'll always return to you. But none of that will get through his brain until your face to face, finally in each other's arms.

And something that you've come to see through a new perspective is that love isn't tiring, it isn't heavy nor it is draining. Love is strength, calmness and security. Love can be fire, kissing in the rain and a rollercoaster of emotions. But it's not bad and it's not rotten. It can, however, sometimes be doubtful. It can raise questions that can make you halt on your way to say yes, but that's okay. Because even though you're certain, you're allowed to not have all the answers and you're allowed to not be alone to search for them.

“I love you, too,” you breathe out, shutting your eyes to imagine you were close to him, in your safe place.

“It's so good to know that you're smiling right now.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head but your mouth is quirking up in the sides. “Seriously, you've gotta stop doing that, Stef. Am I feeding your ego?” You don't wait for a response. “Don't answer that, I know I am.”

“Come home.”

Because no matter how much you occasionally missed your past, your present and future are greater than anything else you could have possibly desired.

❝ and that's the way I loved you...❞

“I will.”

You couldn't have asked for anything better.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[alternate ending]

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

××《☆》××

You can't deny beauty, so don't do it at all. Some time is spent at the beach with a boy you're trying to quietly reject. Begging, though pitying, looks good on our one-eyed boy.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: boys being boys (ft. grown ass men), swearing, sl?!t shaming, bullying, smoking, angsty-er than normal

Also, another reference, now from the show Normal People and the movie (500) Days of Summer

===

Song: Salvatore by Lana Del Rey

(For some reason, I can't display it. Sorry about the technical difficulties.)

===

Chapter seven: Salvatore

===

I walk the unfamiliar streets of the town, only now headed this way. I was instructed by my mother to pick something up from a lady's house this morning, specifically a box of sweets.

It was delivered to the wrong address, and my mother got in contact with the company, which gave her the contact number of the address they gave it to, and the two women made arrangements.

I look up at the plain white door with embedding, knocking on it gently. I hear footsteps from inside, then the door opens with a creak.

"Good morning, ma'am. I was sent by my mother, Julliete Pardine." The woman smiles down at me, the elevation of her house making her taller.

"You must be Y/N. Come on in." She ushers me inside, opening the door wider. I take careful steps on the stairs, eyeing my feet to not fall and embarrass myself. Looking up was something I regret.

In all his glory, after being completely ignored for two weeks, Joseph Descamps stands in front of a drawer and mirror, eye wide open, mouth parted slightly, and looking as pretty as he always did.

I get snapped out of my trance when the woman, now I know as Mrs. Descamps, hands me the box of cookies.

"Now, Y/N, where do you study? I hope I'm not making you late this morning." I turn my focus to her, ignoring the butterflies wanting to escape my stomach through my throat.

"You're not. I study at Voltaire." Mrs. Descamps' eyes widen like her sons, and she smiles a bright smile.

"Oh, what a coincidence. My son goes there, too. Maybe you could walk each other. It's always good for a girl your age to have some company when walking the streets. Maybe you already know each other?" She glances at her son, nodding her head towards me. I look at Joseph, and something reminds me of a promise I made him before.

We're sitting on my bed, writing some notes for Maths. Joseph's voice comes alive.

"Hey, what do you think will happen to us in college?" I look up from my paper, eyeing Joseph steadily.

"What kind of question is that? You're thinking about college already?" I don't mention the fact that he's thinking about us two when talking about what'll happen.

"Well, you know, since schools are mixing boys and girls now, and it's going pretty well, so in college, it might be continued. I just wanna know if we'll still be... friends." I scoff slightly, letting go of my pencil to reach for his free hand.

"Joseph, let me assure you we'll still be friends. I promise." Joseph looks at me, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips. I tilt my head in worry.

"But... what if we don't end up in the same college? And when you're with your new friends, then you see me, you'll act like you never knew who I was?" I scan his face, his beautiful face, biting gently on my bottom lip. I caress his hand with my thumb.

"I would never act like I don't know you." I say in a whisper. He doesn't say anything after that, collecting my words somehow.

"Can you promise that, too?" I smile gently at him, lifting his hand up to my lips, kissing his rough knuckles.

"I promise."

I would've never thought what might happen in college happens so soon.

So when I look at him, all I can think about is his soul, and that even in a matter of weeks, it's filled me whole.

"Yes. We know each other." I look at Mrs. Descamps again, and her face lights up brighter than before.

Her son looks like her. The way both their eyes wrinkle a bit under when they smile, the way their cheeks shows lines, and the way their eyes light up. I barely see that in him anymore. And the last time I did, it was with me.

"Good. He shall walk you to school this morning." She walks to her son now, grabbing his arm to drag him closer to me. I don't look him in the eye, my heart still aching from the afternoon in the alley.

I can sense him tilting his head, brows etched in worry and body leaning towards me. He feels so warm even from far away. I want him closer.

"Anyways, I made you a sandwich for lunch. I know what food's like at school." Mrs. Descamps tells her son. I look at her now petite image, even more small when standing next to her child. Well, if he even is a child anymore.

"Thanks." He replies simply, head down. I try my best not to hold him like I used to. To ask him what's wrong.

"I saw the ophthalmologist. He thinks it's time." I furrow my eyebrows, not sure what type of doctor that is.

"Oh, yeah?" Fuck. Why'd he have to say it like that? Butterflies fill my stomach again. Not here. Not infront of his mom, for fucks sake.

"They've made great strides." She ruffles his hair. Damn, I used to do that. I miss it. "They can match your eye colour exactly now. You can't tell the difference."

"Have you ever seen someone with a glass eye? One eye moves, the other doesn't." Oh, so that's what this is about.

His mother cups his face. "My son is not a pirate. You'll be handsome again." I speak before I think.

"Your son is handsome." They turn their heads to me, and I flush in embarrassment. I finally look at Joseph, and there's a glimmer of hope in his eyes. His cheeks are flushed like mine, and he searches my face.

"Well, I'm glad you think so. But I think he should get it anyway. The mother knows best, like they say." Joseph doesn't even turn his head to his mother's direction. He doesn't even hear her. All he's looking at is me, and I can't find myself to look away.

"Well," I stutter out, looking to Mrs. Descamps. "It was nice to meet you. See you soon, ma'am." She smiles at me, rubbing my shoulder gently.

"Would you like to come to dinner tonight? I'm making a roast." Before I could answer, Joseph does it for me.

"Mama-" I cut him off. "Yes. Sure, ma'am. I'll come for dinner." I say, placing the box of cookies in my satchel. She laughs in glee.

"Alright! That's settled then. Now get going, or your teachers will have a field day with you two." She ushers us to the front door, closing the it once we're outside. I glance at him for a second, then start walking in a fast pace.

"Y/N!" He calls out.

"Oh, first name basis again? Didn't know we were that close." I say, Joseph catching up to my side.

"Please, I can explain. Let me." I scoff, disbelief in my face.

"No, thanks. Go have some fun with your girlfriend." I try to walk faster, but he catches up anyway.

"She's not my girlfriend, I swear. Y/N, please. You're killing me here." His voice cracks in desperation, and it takes all my strength not to stumble from my suddenly shaky legs.

"Good." He whimpers. Fucking whimpers. Holy shit, please give me strength.

"Y/N. Please. Just, please." I slow down a bit, pitying him.

"You have one minute." I face him, crossing my arms.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Ex then?" He shakes his head profusely.

"No. I don't even know her. She just came up to me and started getting all over me."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Please do. Because I swear on my life, Y/N, I would never do that to you."

"But you did. You did when you were talking shit about me to your friends. You did when you let her get all over you." He doesn't speak, and my throat goes dry.

"Exactly. So don't even fucking talk." I turn around and walk away, tears pooling my eyes. I can't believe him. I can't believe me.

××《☆》××

I stand next to Simone in front of the gate, tapping my foot against the gravel.

"What are we doing here again?" I ask, seeing Simone bite her lip in anxiety.

"We're waiting for-" Simone cuts herself off, shouting for Michèle. I walk towards the both of them.

"Michèle, it's been weeks. How long will you be mad?" I delay behind them, trying to give both girls privacy.

"How long have you been seeing my brother behind my back?" Oh. So they got together. I'm happy for Simone, though I already had an idea, but this was the moment she was dreading to come.

They get through the gate. "I wanted to tell you." Simone explains.

Michèle only glances at her. "You played me for a fool."

It's worrying to see both my closest friends argue because you don't know whether or not they'll recover and stay friends.

"It wasn't like that." Simone breaks my thoughts.

"Does he know about Alain?" Michèle says, seemingly angry if her brother did know.

"Of course not. I never told him anything you shared with me." Simone flushes. "If he knew anything, you'd have known about it." They stop walking. I keep my distance.

"I never said it was Jean Pierre, but the rest was true." Someone calls out for Michèle.

"I miss our talks." That was the last thing Simone said before Michèle got dragged away by some girls.

I walk up to Simone, smiling slightly.

"So..." I pause, looking up at her. "Jean Pierre?"

This gets her so smile a bit, red covering her cheeks.

"Yeah." She tucks her hair behind her ear, and I can't help but giggle at her antic.

"He was Eugène the whole time?" I question. She looks at me with even more red on her cheeks.

"I knew it." We both giggle in our girlish nature as we head inside the school.

××《☆》××

Two beeps are heard outside the gate of Voltaire, and I rush down the ramp. I accidentally bumped into someone, and I say a quick apology. I glance behind me, having to do a double take at the one-eyed boy. I look away quickly, walking to Callum's car.

"Pretty girl." Callum hands me a bouquet of pink tulips, and I smile at the sight of it, forgetting about Joseph for a second. Just a second.

"Where are we headed?" I ask, thanking Callum for opening the passenger's door for me.

"The beach. There's a car meet I was invited to take some photos of. Do you mind?" He opens up the roof, letting the wind outside and the heat hit us.

"No. Don't mind at all. Let's get going." He smiles at me simply, and I fail to notice some things he brought on the back of his car.

The drive to the beach was comfortably quiet, wind messing our hair up, the smell of salt and soil filling our senses.

From up the hill, I see the mounds of cars on the white sand below. I smile at the sight, ready for Callum's lovely rambling of all the different cars.

Callum once again opens my door for me, even rolling on the hood of the car for comedic action. It works, and I laugh at him. All he does is smile, offering his hand out for support.

The rest of the afternoon was spent taking photos of the cars, some of which he asked me to model for him again. I did so, adding some fun with the comfortable aura that surrounded both of us.

We moved the car to an area further from the meet, deciding to go out for a swim. I unfortunately wasn't ready for the trip, not bringing any swimwear, so Callum wastes no time to go to the shops behind us, telling me to get a new pair. He even paid for it, then waited for me to come out.

In Callum fashion, we took more pictures. We went for a swim, him wearing no top and just a pair of shorts. It didn't feel awkward around him. It felt so natural, like I'd known him longer than I do.

So when we finished playing in the salty water, and the sun was setting, we settled down on the mat to watch it.

"Y/N?" I turn my head to him, humming in response.

I see him fidget with his fingers. "I've known you for a while now, and in the time I've known you, it's been the best time of my life."

I get a sense of anxiety in him, so I grab his hand, and it feels familiar to a moment I shared with someone else. I push that thought down.

"Callum, talk to me. Is there something wrong?" He looks up at me, adoration in his brown doe eyes. I've seen that look before. Suddenly the smell of the ocean is suffocating me.

"Y/N, I love you. Nothing will ever change that." I breathe in a shaky breath. "I love that you care and that you're just effortlessly an amazing person." Tears pool under his eyes, and I cup his cheeks as they fall, wiping them away. He cups that hand with his.

"You're amazing, and I would never wanna lose you. I don't want to let you go." He pauses, and I await his next words. "But I have to."

I furrow my brows, wondering what he meant. I nod at him to go on.

"You love him. It's so clear that I'm surprised you don't even know it." My mind blanks.

"And it's completely fine. You don't have to worry about me, because if you'll let me, I'll stay, and I'll love you while you love him." He sniffles, and my heart breaks for him.

The sky is orange, with pinks and blues popping out through some clouds. The ocean waves crash against the white sand, foam popping as it loops back. I can hear our hearts beating, our breaths shaking, and our skin grasping at the other.

"Callum, please don't hate me." He chuckles, kissing the inside of my hand.

"I could never hate you, pretty girl." Tears seep out of my eyes as it did his, and he hushes me, pulling me in his bare chest, caressing my back as I sob apologies to him.

It goes on for a while, and we sit there, the sun gone, cars revving in the distance, waves crashing, seagulls squawking, the moon shining on our bodies, and tears as salty as the sea.

When we pull away, he cups my face and stares. He stares at me with a smile, his broken heart still beating. And I look at him like he's a saint. And he is.

We don't talk on the way home, still a comfortable silence between us. As we stop walking infront of my flat, he says something to break the long silence.

"Still up for tomorrow?" I nod. I had told him this morning that I had some errands to run. He agreed to take me around town. I'm glad he still wants to come through.

Before he walks away and disappears around the corner, I call out for him. He turns around, hand in his pockets.

"You know I love you too, right?" He smiles that sweet smile. I can't help but do the same. He walks back to me slowly, cupping my cheek like he did in the beach.

"I know." He whispers, leaning in to kiss my forehead, lingering. He pulls away, still smiling, and walks away for good.

I get in my flat, closing the door and looking at George.

"I don't wanna talk about it." He meows. I lift him up to go cuddle in my room.

××《☆》××

The next day goes through smoothly. Callum picks me up at the end of the day. We stopped by my flat first, and I picked George up, deciding to finally take him out of the house.

The first stop was the pharmacy, and the person I've been dreading to see was there. I asked Callum if he needed anything, and all he does is shake his head. I open the door with George in hand, standing eye to eye with the taller boy.

"Descamps." I say in greeting. He's heaving, eye scanning my frame like he always does. I purse my lips, greeting the pharmacist. The pharmacist greets George, seeing I've brought him around from time to time. George was basically a regular here.

"Pardine." He greets, but his voice shivers. I almost ask him what's wrong, 'till I remember.

George wriggles out of my arms and into his. He loses his balance a bit, regaining it as he holds George like a baby, like he did before. Fuck, I miss him.

"Hello, George." He smiles softly at the cat, and I can't help but melt internally. I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. He's holding him so gently, and my heart pound in my chest. Hard.

I grab my things from the pharmacist, thanking them quietly before trying to get George. He growls at me, and I stare at him in shock. Joseph looks up at me. When I look at him, I don't look away immediately.

"I can take him to your car." He says in an almost whisper, turning his head down. He's so shy, and I just want to hold him.

Before we could get out, Michèle goes through the door of the pharmacy. I smile at her gently, greeting her a hi. She greets me back. I wait for her, wlaking with her outside.

"Laubrac, what a surprise." She says, and I roll my eyes at her. She looks at me sheepishly, making a pointed look at Joseph. I understand the sign.

"Did you plan to meet here?" I wave at Laubrac, and he smiles, cigarette in between his fingers.

"What are you doing here?" Joseph asks Laubrac as he eyes the boy up and down, the shy demeanourhe had with me long gone. George is still in hand, but now he carries him with one arm.

"My parents' butcher shop isn't far." Michèle cuts in. "I have to go, or my mom will kill me. See you at school." She bids off to the three of us.

"Aren't you working with your chickens today?" Joseph asks Laubrac, and I glare at his rudeness. He doesn't notice.

"Even farmhands get time off." Laubrac answers simply. There's a pause.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." Laubrac walks off now, leaving me and Joseph infront of the alley.

"Let's just go." I walk to Callum, seeing him smoking a cigarette in the car, window opened slightly. He spots the two of us and unlocks the door. Joseph's quick to open it for me, and I just look at him, flushing at the gesture.

"Thanks." I whisper, ducking my head to get seated. Joseph crouches down, kissing George's head, and placing him on my lap.

"Joseph. Long time no see." Callum raises a hand in greeting, throwing the dead cigarette out his open window.

"Callum. Saw you pick her up yesterday. Where were you guys headed?" Joseph raises a brow, some sort of annoyance in his voice.

"Took her to the beach to a car meet. Did some swimming, she learnt something about me, and I told her something about herself." Callum puts simply.

Joseph doesn't like his answer. "Told her something about herself, huh?"

Callum notices his tone and chuckles. "Yeah. Something she needed to set straight. You know, something she knows deep down, but she's not doing anything about it." Joseph's gripping hard on the door handle, his knuckles going white.

"And what would that be?" Callum smiles at him.

"Can't tell you. Only she can. Actually, you can probably help her out with it. I'm sure you're feeling the same way she does." That's when I whip my head to face the boy, face as red as a ferrari, heart beating faster than a race car. Sorry, Callum's rambling is affecting me.

"Yeah? What's she feeling? I doubt that it's anything bad, considering that's not how I feel about her." Joseph looks at me, leaning against his now crossed arms in the window shield. With both boys' attention on me, my breathing hollows.

"It's nothing. Bye, Descamps." Callum chuckles, getting the car to start, then beeping it at Joseph as a goodbye. Once we're far away enough, I hit Callum on the shoulder.

"What was that for?" I scream out, embarrassment flooding off of me. Callum won't stop laughing.

"Oh, come on. You two knuckleheads should just get together! You're so obviously in love." I groan, covering my face with my hands. George meows at me.

"I can't believe you, Callum."

"Plus, summer's in a few. You're gonna have to tell him before you leave." Shit. Summer. Paris. I haven't told him yet.

"Fuck. I hate that you're right." I think for a while. "But we're still on bad terms!"

"You just want to be on bad terms because you don't wanna confront him about it. I can see, very clearly, actually, how much you guys want to be together."

His response makes the gears in my head turn. He's right, I admit it. But how do I tell him? When? Where?

Then I remember the girl, and he'll probably forget about me before I even leave. He won't notice that I'm gone.

So, now that I think about it, it won't be so hard. So why can't I bring myself to be relieved? As if I want it to be hard. For him to beg for me not to leave. Not to go. Not to move.

Because if I do, I'll forget about him. But I could never forget him, no matter how hard I try. Because he's Joseph Descamps, the boy who I love too much for my own good. The boy with one eye. The boy I think about when looking at the future. The boy that will always stay in my mind, heart, and soul.

It'll be easy. If not for me, for him. He'll fall in love with some girl, marry her, live with her, have a family with her, grow old with her. Then I'll just be there, thinking about him day and night, counting the endless possibilities and what ifs.

And if I had just realised earlier, told him earlier, loved him earlier, then maybe, just maybe, I'd be happy.

That's not the case. Not now, not ever. And I'll have to live with that 'till the day I die, with him in mind.

××《☆》××

There was a test that morning. Laubrac came in late. We finished the test. The day ends. It was simple. Quiet. But, chaos came in an errand again.

Joseph walks into the butchers, and I internally gape at the sight of him. He's so, so beautiful. I think I might cry. I can't even describe how beautiful he looks right now. I wish I could kiss that patch again. Cup his face with my hands again. Brush his hair, hold his hand, and feel his lips on mine.

The store is quiet, and customers look at the walking image of beauty, including Michèle's mother. She calls out for her husband.

I just stare at Joseph. He doesn't notice I'm there, fully focused on the couple.

"I hear the Magnan's like to sleep with foreigners and thugs." I furrow my eyebrows, frustrated at the juncture.

"You're the only thug here." I keep my eyes on Joseph, trying to figure out his next move.

"The thug is that foster kid sleeping with your fifteen year old daughter." Joseph answers. I purse my lips disappointedly.

"You didn't know?" He says, acting all innocent. "I'm sorry, but it's true. Your son's too busy fooling around with a foreign girl to warn you."

What the actual fuck. What's gotten into him?

"Get out!" Mrs. Magnan says. "It's all lies. Lies!"

He chuckles, and why the fuck is it so attractive?

"Really? If it was, you wouldn't be so upset."

He has a point there, but it's still an asshole thing to do.

"You little shit." Mr. Magnan mumbles.

"Say hi to Jean Pierre for me."

"I'll teach you a lesson!" Mr. Magnan shouts as he walks to the exit, but I beat him to it.

I walk up hurriedly to Joseph, pulling at his shoulder to face me.

"What the fuck was that?" I shout, anger pounding jn my veins.

"It's true, and you know it. Why are you so angry?" He says as if it's simple.

"They're my friends, Joseph! Why the fuck wouldn't i be upset about it?" I push his chest.

"Back to first name basis, Y/N? Go back to your boyfriend and talk about those feelings of yours." This makes my hear shatter against my chest.

"For the last time, he isn't my boyfriend."

"Why does it seem that way, huh? Do you like leading people on? Should've known. Went through it anyway!" He starts to walk away.

"You go back to your girlfriend, asshole!" He turns around and flips me off.

I fight the urge not to just sob in the middle of the street. Unbeknownst to me, he feels the same, too.

××《☆》××

I received a call in the house as soon as I get home. I pick it up, wiping the tears on my cheeks.

"Hello?" I try to hide the shake in my voice.

"Y/N, darling? This is Mrs. Descamps." Shit. Worst timing.

"Oh, good afternoon, ma'am. Is there something wrong?" I ask, worry etching my voice.

"Well, I meant to ask if you were still coming tonight. But there's also something else I wanna talk about." I furrow my brows, sniffling a bit.

"Um, sure, I'll still go." I shut my eyes in regret. I should've said no. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"Well, Joseph came home a bit gloomy. He hasn't come out of his room, and whenever I ask him what's wrong, he just tells me off. I'm worried, you know, as a mother is, and I was wondering if anything happened at school." My heart aches for the woman.

"Well, to be honest, ma'am, I think it's better if you ask him. I don't want to say anything I'm not supposed to."

"Oh, well, that's alright." There's a lace of disappointment in her voice. "Well, I'll see you later, darling. Come by 7 or later." We bid each other goodbye and hang up.

I put my pearl necklace on, the item in contrast with my red dress. It's quite formal, but that's what you wear for dinner, right? There's a semi-big bow on the back, wrapped around my waist like a present.

Time passes as I get ready. The whole time, my heart pounded in my chest. I'd have to see him again. Talk to him. And after that argument.

So when I arrive and knock on the door, and Joseph answers, my heart stops its beating.

Thankfully, Mrs. Descamps ushers me in her home once again, and we're at the dinner table, eating silently. Well, just Mrs. Descamps really. Me and Joseph don't touch our food, keeping our head down.

"Something wrong with the food, children?" Mrs. Descamps says, and I'm quick to dismiss the idea, not wanting her to feel down about it.

"There's nothing wrong with the food, ma'am. I just... I ate a bit before coming here." I take a hold of her hand, reassuring her.

"Oh, that makes sense." She grabs her sons hand. "What about you, my angel? You haven't eaten anything when you got home."

I glance at him in worry, his eye catching me. We put our heads down at the same time.

"Just no appetite, Mama." He purses his lips at her.

"I hope you're not mad about earlier. I won't make you get the glass eye anymore." She looks at me again, a mischievous smile on her face. "At least Y/N here thinks you're beautiful." I flush at the mention of the incident, wanting the ground to swallow me whole.

"Good. That's the only opinion that matters." He whispers to himself, but I heard it clear.

"So," Mrs. Descamps drops both our hands and gets back to eating. I start on my plate, too. "Is there something you two want to tell me?"

I blush profusely. "What do you mean, Mrs. Descamps?"

"Well, there's obviously something between you two." Mrs. Descamps shrugs. Joseph calls his mother out, and I flush even more in my seat.

"Okay, just because I'm old doesn't mean I don't know what love looks like. Me and your father-"

"Mama, please stop." Joseph groans through his hands, Mrs. Descamps laughing at her son.

"Okay, fine. I'll talk to you later." Mrs. Descamps winks at her child, then suddenly, the air isn't so suffocating anymore.

When dinner ends, Mrs. Descamps makes Joseph walk me out. We're outside their house now.

"She doesn't know about your girlfriend?" I put simply, not letting him know my heart is in shambles. He rolls his eye at me, and I have a feeling it'll make his head ache soon.

"She's not my girlfriend." I hear feet pattering against the dark cobble stone street. I turn my head, and there she was. The girl we were just talking about.

"Well, she doesn't think that." I observe her nice puffy dress, jewellery shining from the moonlight, her hair done up. She even has a bit of makeup on. I smile at her, turning back to Joseph, but not looking in his eyes.

"I called her to meet here." Joseph states, and I chuckle. He seems to have gotten what it was I was chuckling about. Tears rim my eyes in frustration.

"It's not what it seems like-" I quickly cut him off, passing by the girl in a hurry.

I hear him call out my name, and I almost trip at the desperation of it. He's always giving off the idea that he wants me, but in the end, I realise I'm in a loophole and I'm finally aware I've been a fool.

I hate Joseph. I hate his toothy smile. I hate his messy ash hair. I hate his towering frame. I hate the dirt colour eyes he has. I hate the way he walks fast with his long legs.

Fuck. Why does it always end like this? I always say I hate him, then I don't, then, like a loop, I do. When will it end? When will I finally decide how I feel?

For now, it's all his fault. It's his fault for making me feel this way. His fault for being so pretty it hurts. His fault for being so... so... Fuck.

Just plain fuck.

××《☆》××

End- Chapter seven: Salvatore

Next- Chapter eight: Joseph, Joseph, Joseph

××《☆》××

DONE W THIS CHAPTER AND ONLY 3 MORE CHAPTERS TO GO!!! We've come so far and my heart hurts for the both of them but it's part of the process. To all the Callum haters, I told u guys u would regret hating on him. We love Callum and I don't accept the hate. So guys love him pls he needs it. Anwww happy reading (not so happy this chapter is pure angst)

[supercap2319]

"You sound like you had a good time last night." Y/N commented. Last night, Stefan had brought some floozy chick home with him last night. You practically hear the sound of the headboard banging against the wall from anywhere in the house.

Stefan had no humanity once again, and he did everything that he could to annoy everyone, but Y/N seemed to be his main target. Seems he was trying to say something with all the people he brought home and fed from. The lucky ones just got a good cock in the ass or vagina and left the Salvatore estate sore, but alive.

The older vampire turned towards him. He had been drinking his weight in Damon's special bourbon supply, which no don't, Damon would be upset for when he returned home later on tonight. He and Elena were searching for a spell that Bonnie could perform to turn Stefan's emotions back on without doing something drastic.

"Why, Y/N. Are you jealous?" Stefan teased.

"Jealous? Yeah, I'm jealous. Jealous of all the people who got a good night's sleep. I could have locked myself in the basement, and I still would have heard you and your lady friend. God, she was so loud and fake."

Stefan smirks and takes a drink. There was something in the way he looked at Y/N. Like his eyes held a secret, and he was debating on whether to tell Y/N or not. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. I just thought you'd admit to getting off to hearing me fucking."

That sentence hung in the air as Y/N looked at the older vampire in complete shock. "Excuse me?"

"Don't act all innocent, Y/N. I know you were snooping in on my hot night. I could practically hear your breathy moans as you touched yourself in bed. Smell your lust. You liked hearing me fuck didn't you?" Stefan smirks.

Y/N's face burned with embarrassment. It was true he got off on Stefan's pornographic moans last night, but he would never admit that he liked it. Like the sounds of Stefan's heavy pants. All the dirty things he whispered to his hook-up. The way she came screaming Stefan's name, Y/N imagined that it was himself in her place.

"Yeah, right. I have better people to jerk off, too." Y/N said and tried to get up from the couch, but Stefan straddled his hips, and his weight pushed him back down. "Really? So if I do this..." He begins to slowly grind his ass over Y/N's crotch. "....It doesn't turn you on?"

"Nope." Y/N said as his own body was starting to betray him.

"And if I did this?" Stefan's warm breath was on his neck as he trails up towards his ear. "I'd bet you'd really like to fuck me. Slide your cock in and out of my warm hole. Begging for you to go harder as you fuck me like a bitch."

Y/N's heart back to race, and his dick was starting to swell at Stefan's dirty talk. He did imagine himself pounding into Stefan. Making the older vampire cum on his cock, but the younger one desired something even more, and Stefan knew what it was.

"Or maybe..... you want me to fuck you instead." Stefan smiled.

Y/N's faced morphed into his bloodshot eyes with black veins and fangs before crashing his lips together with Stefan's.