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wholoveseggs · 12 hours ago

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Remnants {Part Three}

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

Part Three

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!reader} You’re back in his bed. Your memories are back in your head. And that means your attacker must be...

3.6k words - Warnings: smuttt, date night, protective elijah, kol & klaus hunting for sport, one very unhinged stalker, a broken heel, fractured memories, champagne-based gloating && a first date so nice they did it twice...

{Part One}{Part Two

Months had passed since that disastrous night on the rooftop. Months since Liv's careful manipulation and obsessive planning had shattered completely. Months she had spent on the run, watching from the shadows as her worst fears became reality. She had heard whispers, saw you slither your way back into his life, smiling and laughing as though you belonged by his side.

Liv stumbled into a dark alley, clutching her wounded side. Pain radiated through her ribs with every ragged breath, but it was already fading. Her thoughts raced frantically, heart hammering in panic. She had gotten reckless, desperate. The compulsion she had painstakingly woven into her new puppets had crumbled like sand the moment the Mikaelsons arrived. She'd underestimated them. She'd underestimated you.

Now she was being hunted.

She cursed bitterly. Blood seeped through her fingers, staining her dress, but it was healing quickly, just not quickly enough. Kol and Klaus were toying with her, dragging it out, prolonging her humiliation. She gritted her teeth, tasting fury.

"He was mine," Liv hissed to the shadows, voice trembling with anger. Elijah was hers. She had chosen him. She had sacrificed so much to have him, only to watch him slip from her grasp. She should have killed you. It was your fault. You had stolen him from her, and now you were both going to pay.

She remembered the first time she saw him… Her Elijah… his dark eyes and soft smile. He ordered his drink, a regular americano in a mug…and tipped generously. She made a point of waiting on him, cleaning his table and asking how his coffee was. He had barely looked at her, but in her mind, it meant everything. He was being coy. Playing hard to get.

She had never wanted anyone more than she wanted him.

A soft laugh echoed from above, chilling her to the bone. "Oh, Liv," Kol's voice dripped with amusement. "You don't look so good. Are you feeling alright?"

She froze, breath catching. Kol was perched on a nearby fire escape, a smirk curling his lips. His eyes gleamed dangerously in the moonlight.

"You don't understand..." she started. But her words came out slurred and weak.

Kol leapt down, landing gracefully beside her.

"Understand what?" he purred, tilting his head. "How utterly pathetic you are?"

She lunged forward, rage driving her actions, but Kol appeared behind her, pinning her effortlessly against the wall. Like he was holding up a particularly vicious kitten.

"I could snap your neck right now," he whispered, lips brushing her ear. "But we both know you'd just come back, wouldn't you? And I'd have to do it all over again."

She twisted against his grip, hissing and snarling. But his hold only tightened.

"I'd make it hurt, of course," he continued, voice laced with mock-pity.

Klaus approached slowly, his expression darkly amused. "What is it about our brother that attracts such madness?" he mused.

Kol chuckled. "Hmmm...I believe it's the whole tall, dark, and handsome bit. Women tend to swoon for that sort of thing."

Liv struggled uselessly, hissing curses, her delusions collapsing under the weight of her reality. Sleep had become a distant memory. She had begun hearing Elijah’s voice in her mind, whispering promises she knew he'd never actually make.

"But then again, you have some rather interesting exes, Nik," Kol added thoughtfully.

Klaus scoffed, arching an eyebrow. "Nothing like this, I assure you."

“Better text Elijah we're wrapping up soon,” Kol drawled, his smile cruel. "He's taking the lovely Y/N on a date tonight, isn't he?"

A high-pitched laugh escaped her, half-mad and frantic. She couldn't die. Not yet. Not like this. She still had so much left to do. Elijah would come for her. He would see the truth, see that you were nothing but a weak, pitiful, pathetic human. She had done everything, changed every piece of herself to become worthy of him.

"He'll kill you both," she spat, a twisted grin stretching across her face. "I'll watch the light leave your eyes, and then he will tell me he loves me... and then he will marry me and we will never ever even think about you two and his filthy fucking whore-"

Klaus and Kol looked at each other. And then, in unison, they laughed.

"Oh, darling, do shut up," Kol said, his grip on her wrists tightening. "You're embarrassing yourself."

"We're not going to kill you," Klaus said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Liv's eyes widened, and she swallowed hard. "W-what?"

"Not yet," Kol added, grinning wickedly. "We are bored, after all."

"Elijah," Klaus began, "did insist we kill you slowly. Painfully. For what you did to Y/N."

Liv felt a sudden wave of hope. Elijah hadn't forgotten her. He’d spoken of her. He wanted her alive. That meant something. Maybe there was still a chance. She could fix this. She could undo the damage.

Kol set her down, keeping her pinned against the wall, but his grip loosened slightly.

"So," Klaus continued, "run," he purred. "Beg. Hide. We'll give you a head start. Let's see how long you can last, shall we?"

She was released.

For a moment, she stood there, frozen, unsure. Then, with a burst of speed, she ran.

And didn't look back.

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of your dress for the third time.

"You look lovely," Elijah's voice came from behind you, warm and certain.

You turned to find him leaning in the doorway, every inch the gentleman. Dark suit. Crisp white shirt. Quiet reverence in his gaze. And just like always, your stomach fluttered for reasons you couldn’t quite name.

"So," you said, trying to sound casual. "Big plans for the evening?"

"Well," he said, straightening his cufflink with a small smile, "I'm going on a date with my dream girl."

Your cheeks flushed, and you tried not to grin like an idiot. "Is that so? She must be pretty special."

"She is," he said softly, looking up.

The two of you stared at each other, the moment stretching taut. Your heart hammered in your chest, and suddenly, it was all too much.

"I'm not her, Elijah," you blurted, hating how uncertain your voice sounded. "Not yet, anyway."

His expression didn’t change. Not even a flicker. "Yes, you are."

"But-"

"You are," he repeated, stepping forward and holding out his hand, eyes fixed on yours. "You may not remember us, but you are her. And I'll do whatever it takes to remind you."

You swallowed hard, trying not to melt. "Even if it means waiting?"

"Especially then," he said, and the honesty in his voice made your heart twist.

You took his hand, and his fingers immediately tightened around yours.

"So," you murmured, your voice a little shaky. "Where are we going?"

"An Italian place," he said, his thumb tracing slow circles against your wrist. "They have a very good wine list."

You smiled. "I love Italian food."

He smiled back. "I know."

The restaurant was beautiful. Intimate and secluded. The kind of place you only go on special occasions. The kind of place Elijah would take a girl he was trying to impress.

He pulled your chair out before sitting across from you. The waiter arrived quickly with wine, and Elijah ordered for both of you like he had done it a hundred times. Maybe he had.

"I hope I’m not being too presumptuous," he said as the server walked away.

"Not at all," you said. "It’s kind of nice."

"Is that your diplomatic way of saying you’re enjoying yourself?"

You smirked. "Maybe."

He smiled, and you took another sip of wine to hide your face.

Halfway through the pasta course, Elijah’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, lips tightening before he locked the screen and set it facedown.

"Everything okay?" you asked.

"Kol and Klaus have found something," he said, folding his napkin a little too precisely. "A location. They think Liv’s been hiding nearby."

Your heart gave an anxious thud.

Elijah noticed immediately. "You don’t have to worry," he said gently. "You’re safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know," you said quietly.

"Then why the fear?"

"It's not for me," you admitted. "It's for my friends. I haven't seen or heard from them since the party. Not even a text."

Elijah paused, choosing his words with care. "They weren't themselves," he finally said.

"You think she's controlling them?"

"It's possible. The effects of the compulsion can be long-lasting."

"Will they get their memories back?"

"In time."

"But what about..." You trailed off, suddenly afraid to finish the sentence.

"If my brothers find her, they will kill her, and your memories will be restored," Elijah said. "No more painful decompulsion spells from Freya. It will just be you. Like it was before."

The rest of dinner passed in easy conversation, most of it about you. Things you liked. Places you wanted to see. He listened intently, like he didn't already know all of it, and somehow that made it easier to breathe.

By the time you left the restaurant, the night had cooled. Elijah offered you his arm again, and you slipped your hand through it without thinking.

You walked in comfortable silence, shoes clicking gently against the sidewalk.

"Can I ask you something?" you said after a minute.

"Of course."

"What was our first date really like?"

He glanced at you, smiling a little. "Exactly like this."

You arched a brow. "Seriously?"

He nodded, his chuckle low. "Same restaurant, same food. I even wore the same suit."

You blinked. "Are you joking?"

He shook his head. "You said I looked good in it and made me promise to wear it again."

You laughed softly. "You do look good in it."

He smiled, and you found yourself leaning into him slightly, drawn to the warmth of him.

The moment was almost perfect. If it weren’t for the dull throbbing in your temples.

You pressed a hand to your forehead, sighing.

"Are you okay?"

"Just a headache," you said, trying to brush it off. "They’ve been getting more frequent ever since Freya started poking around in my head."

But then a sharp memory flared, stealing your breath. You were on this street before. Your ankle ached. The smell of rain and asphalt hit you. You were in his arms.

Elijah turned you gently, his hand settling on the small of your back. "Hey," he murmured.

"I'm okay," you said, swallowing hard. "I... I think I just remembered something."

His eyes lit up. "What was it?"

"Did I... twist my ankle or something?" you asked, trying to piece it together. "Right here? It was dark."

"Yes," he said, a fond smile flickering across his lips. "Your heel broke."

"It was raining."

He nodded. "Yes."

"You picked me up and carried me."

"I did." He smiled again, his thumb brushing against your wrist.

"That’s the first time you kissed me," you whispered, heart thudding.

His expression shifted, turning soft and a little wistful. "Yes," he murmured, and then his hand cupped the side of your neck, his thumb tilting your chin upward.

He leaned in, his mouth just a breath from yours- and suddenly, the memory sharpened.

Rain. Thunder. Your fingers sliding into his hair. His mouth on yours. The grip of his hand in the fabric of your dress.

"Was it like this?" you asked, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that felt slow, aching, and perfect.

He pulled away, his eyes dark and searching. "Exactly."

You let out a soft laugh. "I wish I could remember more."

"Give it time," he murmured. "We'll make new memories."

You leaned into him as you walked. His arm wrapped around your waist, his fingers trailing over your hip.

Something flickered behind your eyes. Warm arms under your legs. His scent in your hair. Your own laughter echoing.

You stopped walking.

"What’s wrong?" Elijah asked, turning to you.

"Nothing," you said. Then, without thinking, you reached down and snapped the heel off your shoe.

He blinked. "Did you just-"

"You said I broke it," you said, lifting your foot and wiggling it. "Might as well commit to the bit."

He stared at you. Then he laughed. An actual, warm, surprised laugh that melted you from the inside out.

"You are unbelievable," he said, already bending to scoop you into his arms.

You yelped, clutching his shoulders. "Elijah!"

His hands shifted, securing your weight. You felt the heat of him, his heartbeat steady against your ribs. Your fingers curled around the collar of his jacket, and he looked down at you, smiling.

You couldn’t stop grinning. "You’re enjoying this way too much."

"Maybe," he said, carrying you effortlessly through the darkened streets. “I like having you close."

By the time you reached the compound, you were breathless from laughing. Elijah set you down, steadying you when your shoe buckled, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He pressed his lips to your temple, lingering.

"So," you said, a little dizzy from his proximity. "What else happened on our real first date?"

"Hmmm," he said, considering. "How about I show you instead?"

You nodded, and the next thing you knew, he was kissing you. Slow. Certain. You melted into him, letting the memories come in a slow, burning tide.

"Oh," you breathed, smiling. "I remember that."

"And this," he murmured, lifting you by the hips.

Your legs wrapped around him instinctively, and you giggled as he carried you through the courtyard, up the winding staircase. Your clothes slipped away in a flurry of fabric. His shirt buttons took forever. By the time you reached the bedroom, your dress hung loose and his chest exposed. His jacket hit the floor as you landed on the bed, barely managing to kick your panties off. Then his weight was on you, his lips on your neck, drawing a soft moan from your lips.

"Damn, you're good at this," you told him, and he laughed again.

"I just know what you like," he said, guiding your hips to the edge of the bed and sinking to his knees.

Your heart flipped. "That’s... hot. Unfair, but hot."

He chuckled against your thigh, and the warmth of his breath made you shiver.

"I suppose I have the advantage," he said, kissing the inside of your knee. "But I’m happy to reacquaint you with the details."

You squirmed, hands digging into the bedding as he slowly nudged your legs apart. Your breath caught when his mouth touched you, just a soft kiss at first. Then another. His tongue flicked, teasing. Then he groaned softly like he had been starving for the taste of you. Because he had.

Your hips lifted, and your hands threaded through his hair. His palms held your thighs down, keeping them spread. Keeping you still.

A low sound spilled from your lips, something between a gasp and his name. He smiled at the sound, gently sucking your clit until your voice turned raspy, pleasure blurring your vision.

You looked down at him, lips parted, and something strange pulled at your chest. Déjà vu. The tilt of his head. The grip of his hands. The way he groaned into you like your pleasure was the only thing that mattered.

You had seen this before.

Felt this before.

His mouth on you just like this. In this room. In this bed. That same groan from his throat when he tasted you.

And then it hit you.

Pleasure twisted into something else. Something hotter. Deeper. Sharper. The memory didn't just return. It cracked open inside you like lightning through your ribs.

A soft, broken sound left your throat. You barely heard it.

Your orgasm tore through you in a rush of heat and memory. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers clutched his hair, and a sob burst from your chest.

And somewhere, in a dark alley across the city, Klaus had just driven a stake through Liv’s chest.

At the exact moment her heart stopped, your own heart kicked. Something inside you snapped and surged and flooded all at once.

You gasped, eyes flying open.

A flash. Then another. Then a cascade.

His voice in your ear. Your fingers in his hair. The taste of rain. The whispered I love yous. The fights. The sex. The night he left you. The night you begged Klaus to erase it all.

And then Liv.

The way she appeared out of nowhere with those honey-sweet lies. Her voice like syrup. Her hands stroking your hair. Her fingers on your chin. Her eyes locking onto yours. The command in her voice. Forget him. Move on. Let go. He belonged to her now.

You remembered everything.

Everything.

Elijah was there in an instant, leaning over you, eyes wide with worry and confusion.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" he asked, frantic.

His shirt was half unbuttoned, his hair a mess from your fingers. His cheeks were flushed, his pupils blown. And his eyes... God, his eyes. Tears welled, blurring your vision, and you yanked him down to you, biting his lip, your hands in his hair.

"You left me," you said, breathless, angry, desperate.

"You remember," he said, sounding winded and a little surprised.

"You dumped me," you accused.

"I thought I was protecting you," he began, his voice already breaking.

"Shut up," you snapped, kissing him again, your hips arching up toward him. "Shut the fuck up and fuck me."

For a second, you thought he was going to pull away. The very idea of it brought a sob rising in your chest.

But then he growled low in his throat and latched onto your neck, sucking dark marks onto your skin. A guttural moan spilled past your lips.

You fumbled with his belt, tugging it open, yanking his pants down with shaking hands. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. One hand braced his weight as he shoved your legs apart, his mouth never leaving yours.

The second his cock pressed against you, the ache inside you burst open. You inhaled sharply as he eased into you, stretching you slowly. Carefully.

"Shit, Elijah..." you moaned.

His forehead dropped to your shoulder, one large palm bracing your thigh. He kept moving, slow and steady, a quiet grunt leaving his throat as your body adjusted around him.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into your skin. "Y/N, I-"

You kissed him hard, your legs locking around his hips. You needed more. He was still being too gentle, too careful. You could feel the guilt in every slow thrust, and it was driving you mad.

You shoved at his chest and he moved back. He leaned against the pillows, dazed. Before he could say anything, you climbed on top of him and sank onto his cock in one smooth motion, drawing a matching groan from both of you.

You braced your hands on his shoulders and began to ride him in earnest. Rough. Relentless. Taking what was yours.

"I should hate you," you gasped, your body shaking from the flood of emotions. "You broke my heart. I hate you, Elijah. Don't stop. Don't ever stop. I missed you, I-"

The words broke into a cry as he sat up and pulled you into him. His arms wrapped around you. His mouth crushed yours. You rocked together, clinging, gasping.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, his breath ragged. "I'm not leaving you again."

Your body trembled, tension building with each thrust. Your head fell back as the pleasure crested, and you came with a full-body shudder, muscles weak and burning.

He followed, a deep, broken sound tearing from his throat as he spilled into you.

You slumped against him, spent. One of his arms held you close. The other hand slid into your hair. He pressed his lips to your cheek, then your throat.

"Y/N," he whispered, still breathing hard. "I love you."

You swallowed. "I love you, too."

The words came easy now. Like breathing. Like living.

Like the first time.

~~~

Kol found the two of you still in bed hours later, a bottle of champagne tucked under his arm.

"Niklaus and I dispatched Liv," he said, popping the cork. "Thought we could celebrate."

Elijah sat up, the sheet slipping down his bare chest. You blushed and yanked the comforter higher.

Kol paused, a smirk spreading across his face. "You're welcome, by the way."

"For what?"

"Saving your life. Getting rid of the crazy lady. Giving you two a second chance." He took a swig straight from the bottle, then held it out with a smug grin. "Might have to charge a fee."

"Thank you," Elijah said simply.

"It was really nothing," Kol said, waving him off. "Bit of fun, really. Although, if you're offering..." He looked between you and Elijah, eyes gleaming.

"No," you said flatly, grabbing a pillow and hurling it at him.

Kol dodged it with a laugh and disappeared out the door, champagne in hand.

"Well, that was mortifying," you muttered.

Elijah smiled and pulled the blankets over the two of you, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "I'm not sharing."

You giggled. "Good."

You leaned into him, a slow, warm bloom building in your chest. It felt different now. Not like before. Something deeper. Something real.

Liv had tried to take it all away. But it hadn’t worked. You still felt him. A ghost in the background of your mind. Even when his face was a blur, even when the memories were gone, something in you had known. He was the missing piece.

You turned into Elijah’s chest, your cheek pressed to his heartbeat, and let yourself exhale. No confusion. No fear. No missing pieces. Just you. Just him.

And the quiet certainty of arms that wouldn’t let go…and a love that had survived forgetting.

{Part One}{Part Two}

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wholoveseggs · 6 days ago

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Remnants {Part Two}

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

Part Two

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!reader} Elijah let you go and is trying to move on. But when you look at him like a stranger… he knows something is terribly wrong.

5k words - Warnings: no smut, memory loss (rude), violence, compulsion, Elijah pining at Olympic levels, a classic elijah & klaus brawl, awkward dinner reunions && a suspicious gift...

{Part One}{Part Three}

The fire had long since burned down to embers, casting a soft orange glow over Elijah’s study. The only sound was the faint clink of glass as he poured himself another inch of bourbon. He didn’t drink it.

The envelope was already on his desk, pale gray and unmarked. Just like the others.

He stared at it for a long moment, then slid a finger under the flap and opened it with the precision of someone defusing a bomb.

A single photograph slid out. It was of him, through a window, kissing you, your eyes closed, his fingers in your hair, a soft, private smile on his lips.

He turned the photo over, the words scrawled in dark red ink mocking him: Every heart but mine is temporary.

Elijah stared at the picture for a long moment, then tossed back the contents of his glass, the liquor burning his throat. The clock chimed in the hall. He closed his eyes, breathing deep, trying to clear his head.

Two months. Two months since you left. Two months without you. Two months of knowing that he had done the right thing.

And yet, he was here. Alone.

Whoever was sending these photos was escalating, watching him from the shadows. Waiting for an opportunity to strike, but also... taunting him.

Under different circumstances, he could admire the slow, deliberate torture. He was no stranger to this sort of game, but this was the first time he wasn't the one calling the shots.

It wasn't just letters, but strange gifts. A single wilted rose. A dead pigeon. A piece of fabric covered in pig’s blood.

He hadn't been sleeping, and barely eating. He missed you, more than he had ever imagined possible. More than that, he was worried about you. You had grown reckless and wild, partying with your new group of friends nearly every night.

But he supposed everyone grieves differently. And if this was the way you wanted to cope with his absence, then he had to accept that.

A sharp knock at the door pulled Elijah from his thoughts. He turned as Klaus strolled in, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Evening, brother," Klaus greeted, smirking lightly. "Still playing the city’s most eligible bachelor, I see."

"What do you want, Niklaus?"

Klaus leaned against the edge of Elijah's desk, eyeing him appraisingly.

"More letters?" he asked, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You've always had a special way with the ladies, brother. Especially the crazy ones."

Elijah hummed in agreement, though the words were like a knife to the gut. "I’ve also begun to suspect our stalker is a woman."

"Do you think Y/N is involved?"

Elijah scoffed. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. And she's safe, that's all that matters," Elijah said, trying to ignore the twinge in his chest at the mention of you.

"Hmm," Klaus replied, picking up the photograph from the desk. "And how is that working out for you, Elijah? Tell me, are you happier now?"

"Why do you care?"

Klaus's expression didn't change. "I'll send some of Marcel’s men to look after her. You know, just in case."

"There's no need. I will handle watching her myself."

"Do you think that's a wise decision, considering the state of mind you're currently in?"

"If the situation changes, I'll inform you. Thank you for stopping by, but as you can see, I have a great deal of work to do."

Klaus glanced down at the empty glass and bottle of bourbon. He picked the latter up, inspecting the label. "Right. Best be getting back to that then."

Elijah took the bottle out of Klaus's hand and set it back down. "I'll call if I need you."

"Will you?"

Klaus held his gaze for a moment. Elijah was surprised to find no trace of mockery or judgment. If anything, there was a glimmer of something almost like sympathy in his younger brother's eyes. Or perhaps it was guilt. Elijah didn't like the look of it either way.

"Goodnight, Niklaus."

"Goodnight, Elijah."

Elijah watched his brother leave, closing the door quietly behind him. He turned his attention back to the photographs scattered on the desk, and the cold, hollow ache in his chest.

His fingers lingered on the edge of the newest photo, tracing the curve of your face.

He should burn them all.

But he didn’t.

The restaurant buzzed with Friday night energy. Clinking glasses, candlelight flickering against exposed brick, the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby table. Your group had claimed the best corner in the place, half-empty wine bottles and shared plates spread across the table like a still-life painting.

Tasha was retelling a tinder horror story from last weekend. Something about a man who used a sword collection as an icebreaker...when Liv suddenly went still.

"Okay, wait," she said, leaning forward and gripping your wrist. "Do not look right away, but there is an absolute god who just walked in."

Adam gasped. "Where? Who?"

Liv smirked. "Dark suit. Hair like a villain in a Regency drama. Ten o’clock. You’re welcome."

You turned, wine glass halfway to your mouth.

And froze.

He stood just inside the door, speaking to the host. Sleek in a perfectly tailored suit, posture effortless but composed. There was something about him that drew the eye. Not loud. Not showy. Just... inevitable.

You didn’t know why your breath caught.

But it did.

He hadn’t noticed you yet. But you felt the moment he did, like a jolt of electricity under your skin.

"Oh," you said, blinking. "I actually know him."

That got everyone’s attention.

"You what?" Liv asked, sitting up straighter.

"Yeah," you said, setting your glass down. "That’s Elijah. He’s, like… an old acquaintance."

"Acquaintance?" Adam echoed. "Girl, he looks like he invented the concept of brooding. Where’d you meet him?"

You paused. The question hit oddly.

"I-I don’t remember, actually," you admitted with a small, confused laugh. "We’ve just sort of… crossed paths a few times, I guess. I'm friends with his younger brothers."

You didn’t notice the stillness that passed over him when you said it. Didn’t see the subtle way his fingers curled into a fist at his side.

Across the table, Liv watched you closely. But her voice stayed playful. "Well, I would certainly cross his path any day of the week."

"Liv!" Adam laughed, nearly choking on his drink.

She grinned wickedly.

Tasha nudged your arm. "You should go say hi. Invite him over!"

Your mouth went dry. "I don't know..."

"Oh my god I think he's coming over," Mike hissed, nudging you hard. "Act casual!"

"You're the opposite of subtle," Liv shot back.

You turned around. And saw him walking toward you. You straightened instinctively, adjusting your features into something polite. Light. Casual.

"Elijah," you said, when he reached the table. "Hi."

He smiled politely in return, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Hello, Y/N. It's been a while."

"It has," you said, searching his face. "How've you been?"

His gaze flicked to the rest of your group, watching eagerly. "Fine," he answered, returning his attention to you. "And you? How have things been going?"

"I've been great," you told him, smiling wide. "Just living life, you know?"

"I can see that," Elijah said, voice soft but unreadable.

The silence that followed was immediate and heavy. Your friends shifted in their seats, glancing between the two of you like they’d walked into the middle of a conversation they weren’t supposed to hear.

You cleared your throat and gestured to the table. "These are my friends- Tasha, Adam, Mike… and Liv."

"We were just saying how handsome you are," Tasha blurted, then immediately covered her face. "Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that out loud."

"Are you single? Cause we could totally set you up," Mike offered.

"Mike, stop!" Adam hissed. "Sorry about him."

"Do you like men? Women? Both?" Liv asked.

Elijah shifted slightly, a small, awkward smile on his face. You didn't know him well, but enough to tell he was deeply uncomfortable.

"Uh," he started, clearly not wanting to answer the questions. "I'm afraid I must decline. I'm... otherwise involved."

You tilted your head. "Oh. I didn’t realize."

Something flickered in his eyes. Gone before you could place it.

"Come sit with us!" Adam invited, shuffling down the booth to make room. "Please. We insist."

"I'm not sure-"

"We can't have you sitting alone on a Friday night," Mike said. "Especially not with a face like that. Come on, take a seat. Have a drink with us."

"Come on," Tasha urged. "Just stay for one drink. Or at least dessert. We’re fun, I swear."

Elijah glanced at you. "Perhaps another time. I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Oh my god, you would be the opposite of intruding," Mike said, nearly knocking over a glass in his excitement. "We’re actually all going to a party tonight after this. You should come."

Tasha leaned in. "Do you have any friends as genetically blessed as you? Bring them."

You laughed. "His little brothers love a good party… They’re… quite chaotic,"

"So?" Adam pressed. "You in?"

Elijah hesitated. His eyes lingered on your face. "If you’ll be there," he said, voice gentle, "then yes. I’d like that."

You blinked, surprised at how serious he sounded. "I… yeah. I’ll be there."

He offered a slight nod to the group. "Then I suppose I’ll see you all later tonight."

And with that, he stepped back, gave you one last long look, and slipped out into the night.

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, your table erupted.

"Holy shit," Adam hissed. "That man is obsessed with you."

"Seriously," Tasha agreed. "Did you see his face when said you would be there? And how he kept staring at you? You have to tell us everything. All of it. Start from the beginning. Right now. No lies. You two definitely hooked up before. Spill. Everything. Now."

You stared at them, trying to figure out what they meant. "Guys, stop. We're just old friends. I'm actually closer with his younger brothers..."

They didn't seem convinced.

"Yeah, okay," Mike drawled. "Whatever you say, girl."

"What's wrong?" Liv asked. "Why aren't you excited? He is literally the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Did something bad happen between you?"

"I-I don't know," you said, suddenly feeling lost. You searched your memory for a reason, an explanation. "I think he's just a bit.. closed off. Distant."

Liv scoffed. "Not tonight he wasn't. Did you see the way he was looking at you?"

"Like he wanted to eat her," Tasha giggled.

"If you don't jump his bones tonight, I will," Liv declared, and Adam laughed.

"Don't encourage her," Mike sighed, rolling his eyes at Adam.

You forced a laugh and picked up your wine glass, pretending you couldn’t feel the weight of Liv’s gaze.

Around you, the group kept teasing, spinning stories, nudging you to tell your secrets.

But your chest felt hollow.

Like something had been scooped out of you.

And you had no idea what it was.

"NIKLAUS."

Elijah’s voice echoed through the compound, bouncing off the stone walls. He appeared in the doorway, shoulders squared, jaw set, and fury carved into every line of his face.

"Yes, brother?" Klaus called, not bothering to hide his amusement. He lounged in one of the armchairs with a glass of blood in hand, swirling the liquid lazily.

Elijah stormed into the courtyard. "What did you do to her?"

Klaus arched a brow. "You’ll have to narrow that down. I’ve done quite a lot of things to quite a lot of people."

Elijah didn’t smile. He didn’t blink. "I went to check in on Y/N and she seemed… different. Cold."

"Well, that tends to happen when you break someone's heart, doesn't it?" Klaus mused, sipping from his glass.

"She has no recollection of me," Elijah snapped, anger rising. "She introduced me as an acquaintance, Klaus. An acquaintance."

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Klaus’s eyes glinted, "to have someone you love look at you like a stranger?"

"That's enough, Niklaus," Elijah said, tone low and dangerous.

Klaus ignored the warning. "But I really don't see what that has to do with me."

"You’ve been watching her," Elijah snapped. "Circling her life. Offering to protect her. Playing the concerned brother when you rarely bother with anyone who isn’t part of your game."

Klaus tilted his head, still calm. "She's your ex. Your very tragic, very human ex. History says that's when things start to get… messy."

Elijah stepped closer, eyes dark. "She looked through me. Like none of it happened. Like we were strangers. So tell me. What did you do?"

Klaus hummed thoughtfully. "She did ask me to, if I recall. Begged, in fact. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it."

"What?" Elijah's voice softened, gutted. The fury was still there, but beneath it, something fractured.

"You can't really blame her, can you?" Klaus countered, rising to his feet. He looked Elijah in the eye, tone deceptively calm. "After all, the love of her life dumped her out of fear. What else could she do but run away and try to forget?"

"I did it for her," Elijah whispered, his voice breaking at the edges. "To protect her. To keep her safe."

"I know, brother. You're the hero, right? She's the damsel in distress."

"Stop."

"The tragic maiden. The princess who needs saving... and you are what? The beast who loves her from afar?"

Elijah surged forward, hands fisting the front of Klaus's shirt, and threw him across the courtyard with supernatural force.

"ENOUGH!" he roared, voice raw and cracking with emotion.

Klaus landed hard, laughing breathlessly as he wiped blood from his mouth. "It's always so much fun when you're madly in love, isn't it, Elijah?"

"You are a child," Elijah snarled. "A spoiled, self-centered, jealous child."

"I didn't compel her," Klaus snapped back, standing. "We both know that's more your style… Although I would say it would be fair, considering what you did to Aurora all those years ago…"

Elijah’s jaw clenched. One heartbeat later, he was across the space, hand at Klaus’s throat, lifting him clean off the ground.

Klaus's smirk faltered. Just a fraction. Just enough to show he’d gone too far.

"Seriously," he rasped, struggling against Elijah's grip. "I didn’t compel her."

Elijah didn’t let go. His voice dropped to a near-growl. "Someone did."

"Am I interrupting something deliciously violent?" Kol drawled, stepping through the gate with a brown paper package in his hand.

Elijah didn’t turn. Just tightened his grip.

Kol whistled. "Alright then." He dropped the package onto a nearby table with a casual flick of his wrist. "Found this nailed to the front gate. Thought it might be another love letter."

Elijah finally dropped Klaus, who stumbled back, glaring, watching as Elijah crossed the room to the table without a word.

"It seems you already have another lady lined up," Klaus muttered, fixing his collar. "Why mourn Y/N when your mystery suitor clearly puts in the effort?"

Elijah shot him a look, then turned back to the package, studying it.

"Do you smell it?" Kol asked, nodding to the brown paper.

"Blood," Elijah confirmed, his brows knitting together. "Human."

Klaus joined them, curious despite himself.

Elijah tore open the package and pulled out a large wooden box. It was beautifully crafted, the wood intricately carved and polished. A piece of parchment was tied around the front with a red ribbon.

'I'll send you hers next'

The words were written in blood. Elijah felt his stomach drop, his throat closing. He slowly opened the box.

There, wrapped in a white linen cloth, was a human heart, with little bows and flowers tucked in and around arteries and veins. Like some sort of twisted bouquet.

"Well," Klaus said, his expression unreadable. "This is a first."

Elijah was strangely quiet, studying the macabre offering intently. "She's escalating."

"Clearly," Klaus snorted. "Whoever she is, she's not subtle."

Elijah looked up. "Y/N is in danger."

"Oh, I would say so, yes," Klaus said dryly.

"I think this is the most effort I've ever seen a girl put into courting you, Elijah," Kol mused, picking up the heart. "I guess she doesn't know how easy you are,"

"Y/N is attending a party tonight. Her friends invited me. I should go keep an eye on her," Elijah said, turning and heading for the stairs.

Then Kol clapped his hands. "Excellent. I do love a social event with a high probability of bloodshed."

"You're not going with me, Kol," Elijah warned.

"Of course not," he scoffed, smirking. "I'm going to follow you and make sure it's a party worth attending."

"Kol," Elijah sighed.

"Nik?" Kol asked, turning to his other brother.

Klaus smirked. "I suppose I'll have to come as well. Someone has to keep an eye on Kol, and you'll be too busy wooing Y/N to watch his back."

Elijah shot his brothers a dark glare. "No. This is a personal matter. Stay out of it."

"Oh, please," Kol groaned. "This is the most exciting thing to happen in months. If this lunatic is going after Y/N, I'll have to protect her. We all know I'm her favorite."

Elijah turned and began to stalk toward the stairs. "Fine," he bit out, barely able to contain his frustration. "Come if you must, but stay out of my way. Both of you."

The music thumped beneath your feet, bass vibrating through the soles of your shoes. The rooftop bar was packed, all glittering dresses and lazy smiles and summer heat clinging to bare shoulders. You leaned against the railing with your drink, laughing as Mike reenacted a particularly interesting encounter.

"He insisted that I was his soulmate," he said, gesturing emphatically. "He even sent me a song he wrote about us! And it was terrible."

"How'd you respond?" Tasha asked, sipping her cocktail.

"I sent him a nude," he shrugged. "I just kind of panicked...I didn't know how else to react."

The group laughed. But you were distracted, your eyes drifting, searching the crowd for something. Then Liv caught your gaze, and you quickly looked away.

"What about you?" She asked. "Any crazy dates?"

You paused. And frowned. You were sure you had a few stories, but for some reason you couldn't think of them.

"Nothing recent," you admitted. "I think the last good one was...um..."

You trailed off, thinking. But it was like reaching for a cloud. Just out of reach.

Tasha frowned. "Is everything okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I think the heat's getting to me."

Liv watched you closely. "What about that Elijah guy? What was your story there?"

"He's just the brother of my friends," you told her, the words feeling odd in your mouth.

"Is he coming tonight? Bringing his brothers?" Mike pressed. "Please say yes. I want to see if they are just as hot."

"I haven't heard back from him," you said, checking your phone. But you realized you didn't have his number... But you swore you did. You remembered calling him, hearing his voice on the other end. But what did you talk about?

Liv hummed thoughtfully. "Do you have feelings for him?"

You blinked, startled by the question.

"Of course not," you said, trying to laugh it off.

But it didn't sound right. It sounded forced.

"Oh my god, you do!" Adam said, pointing. "You're totally in love with him. That's why you've been acting weird."

You shook your head. "No, guys, seriously. I.. I barely know him."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "So why are you blushing?"

You were?

"Guys, stop," Mike said. "She's embarrassed."

Liv smiled, sipping her drink. "Well, if you don't want him, maybe I'll go after him."

Your stomach clenched. You looked up so fast your neck twinged, but she wasn’t even looking at you. Just texting like she hadn’t said anything at all.

"Maybe you should," you managed, voice tight.

Liv hummed, her gaze flickering to yours. "Maybe I will."

The buzz of the crowd faded, just a little. Like someone had turned the volume down on the night. You looked away, downing your drink and setting it on a nearby table.

"I need a refill," you said, excusing yourself. "Anyone else?"

You stepped inside, the hum of music and laughter muffled by the thick rooftop doors. For a moment, you just stood there, eyes on the floor, breath coming in shallow waves. You weren’t sure why it had felt like a fight. But something about it had.

"I'm losing it," you muttered, pressing a hand to your face.

You barely knew Elijah, had barely given him a second thought before seeing him at dinner. You didn't know why your friends were getting into your head. You were overreacting. Sure he was nice to look at, but love? You knew nothing about him.

Other than his favorite record and that he always smelled like pine and cinnamon and fresh laundry. Or the way he could make you laugh just by arching an eyebrow or the way he said your name.

You froze, your brain catching up. How... Did you know that?

You rubbed your eyes. Your head hurt. You were confused. And your thoughts were suddenly jumbled. Like they were in a different language.

You reached the bar and ordered another drink. You had just gotten your glass when you felt a cool breeze brush over the back of your neck.

You turned. And found him.

Elijah.

Standing right behind you.

He watched you with those dark, intense eyes, and you couldn't help but feel that the rest of the world was slipping away.

"Hi," you said, a little breathless.

He gave you a small smile. "Hello."

You tried to clear your head, but everything seemed a bit fuzzy.

"I didn't think you'd come," you said, hoping the dim lighting would hide your blush.

"I wasn't planning on it," he said, eyes tracing over your face. "But I changed my mind."

You shifted slightly, unable to stop the way your heart jumped in your chest. "I'm glad. I didn't know if we would see each other again."

His brows drew together. "Why?"

You laughed awkwardly. "I mean we don't really know each other… I guess I thought you had forgotten me."

Something in his expression changed. A subtle shift. Like the calm before a storm.

"Impossible," he murmured.

You swallowed hard, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. "I.. my friends were just talking about you," you managed, trying to fill the silence.

"All good things, I hope."

"Mike is pretty desperate to meet your brothers. Apparently, he wants to make sure they're just as attractive as you."

"And what do you think?"

"About?"

"Do you think they are just as handsome?"

You looked him up and down, then bit your lip, smiling. "Honestly? No."

His eyes crinkled at the edges, amused. "Good."

You felt warm. Your cheeks were hot, and your head was spinning.

"So," you said, fiddling with your hands. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"I was thinking about buying you a drink," he said, and gestured to the bartender. "If that's alright."

The bartender slid a new drink your way, and as you reached for it, Elijah’s hand lightly brushed yours. His fingers lingered, not enough to be obvious, but enough to make your breath catch.

"Sorry," he said, a soft apology.

"It's okay," you told him, and found yourself wanting to touch him again. To feel the warmth of his skin.

He watched you carefully, a knowing look in his eyes, his hand still resting on the counter.

"Tell me something," he said, voice low.

"Like what?" You asked, confused.

"Anything," he replied. "I like hearing you speak."

You searched for words, but it was hard when all you could think about was the way he was looking at you. Like he knew every secret thing you held close and loved you anyway.

"I..." You trailed off, swallowing hard. "I… I should probably get back to the others," you murmured, suddenly unsure.

"Of course," he said gently. "I wouldn't want to keep you."

You took a step back. Then another. His eyes never left your face.

"Do you want to come sit with us?" You offered.

"If you'll have me."

"Of course," you replied, smiling despite yourself.

He offered his arm, and you took it, and together, the two of you made your way back to the rooftop, weaving through the crowd.

Adam was trying to teach Tasha a dance move while Mike filmed it. Liv sat perched on the arm of a bench, swirling her drink.

You saw her gaze slide to Elijah and a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips.

"Oh, there's my girl," she purred, holding up her drink. "I see you found Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome."

You laughed nervously. "Yes, well, he was looking for me."

"Come dance with us," Adam said, pulling Elijah away from you.

"Oh no," Elijah protested. "I don't really-"

"Too bad," Adam grinned, dragging him to the middle of the rooftop.

Mike followed, still filming, and Tasha laughed, shrugging. "Might as well join them," she told you.

And before you could react, she was pulling you onto the makeshift dance floor. You found yourself laughing, dancing in the middle of the crowd, letting the music and the alcohol carry you away.

Elijah was beside you, moving gracefully to the music, but his expression was oddly serious.

"Hey," you teased. "You're supposed to be having fun."

He gave you a smile. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’m exactly where I want to be," he said.

You weren’t a great dancer. Elijah clearly was. And he didn’t crowd you or pull you close. But there was heat building between your bodies, something slow and dangerous that made your skin prickle. You didn’t understand it. But you didn’t want it to stop, either.

And then Liv was there.

She slid in with a laugh, a blur of dark lipstick and glittering earrings. "Is this a private dance or can anyone join?"

Before you could answer, she had already pressed in on Elijah’s other side, placing a hand on his arm.

"Elijah, right?" she asked, wide-eyed and smiling. "You and I didn’t get a proper introduction earlier. I’m Liv."

Elijah nodded, polite. "A pleasure."

"You dance beautifully," she said, fingers trailing down his sleeve. "Very… commanding."

Something sharp flared in your chest. But Elijah didn’t take the bait. "That's a very kind thing to say. Thank you."

Liv wasn’t used to being turned down. She frowned slightly, her gaze darkening.

"Do you want to dance with me?" she purred. "Just the two of us?"

She was beautiful. And clearly interested. But Elijah looked to you, almost apologetic, and shook his head.

"I'm actually enjoying myself here."

"With her?" Liv asked, voice turning icy.

You laughed nervously. "Liv…"

But she wasn’t done. She moved closer to him, her voice dipping low. "I’ve heard a lot about you, you know... And I can see the appeal."

He stepped back, just enough to make the distance obvious.

"I’m flattered," he said carefully. "But my heart is spoken for, I'm afraid."

Liv blinked. Once. Twice.

"Oh," she said, her smile freezing in place. "Of course."

The music throbbed louder. The lights flashed. But Liv didn’t move.

Her gaze turned to you, slow and icy. And all you could see was hatred.

You opened your mouth to ask her what was the matter, but then-

"Y/N!" Kol’s voice cut through the music. "I see you found our brother."

You turned. Kol was striding toward you, Klaus beside him, both of them looking amused and faintly wary.

Liv turned toward them, every muscle in her body coiled tight. You had no idea what was happening. But you felt it, like a storm about to break. The loud music, the dancing bodies, the bright lights...everything suddenly felt too loud. Too much.

Liv lunged.

Her fingers curled around your wrist and she drove you backward into the crowd. People screamed. Someone dropped a drink. The music screeched to a halt.

"Elijah!" you shouted, but your voice was lost in the chaos.

The moment you hit the ground, Liv was on top of you.

"I loved him first," she hissed, eyes glowing unnaturally bright. "He’s mine."

You couldn’t breathe. You tried to push her off, but she was stronger than anyone had a right to be.

"You aren't supposed to love him anymore… I made sure if that," she spat, one hand tightening around your throat. "You don’t deserve him."

Somewhere beyond her, you saw a blur of movement and everyone on the rooftop. Your friends, the dancers, even the bartenders were swarming Klaus and Kol as if some invisible thread had tugged them all at once. Elijah was trying to get through the crowd, his voice rising above the screams, calling your name.

You saw Mike try to punch him, glassy-eyed and robotic, and Elijah simply caught his wrist and shoved him aside with ease.

He saw you, then. Liv, still pinning you down, her mouth twisting in a horrible sneer.

"Y/N!"

Liv raised her hand again, this time with a flash of metal... A knife. But she never got the chance to use it.

Kol tackled her sideways, knocking her clean off of you. They rolled across the floor in a blur of rabid fury. You scrambled backward, coughing, vision spinning.

"Y/N-" Elijah was there in an instant, dropping to his knees beside you.

You felt dizzy, trying to catch your breath. "What’s happening?"

You looked back just in time to see Klaus hurl Adam across a table with a snarl. Tasha swung a broken bottle toward Kol, who dodged easily, eyes still scanning the room for Liv. Who had vanished into the crowd.

"She ran," Kol snapped. "Slippery little-"

Elijah turned to you, brushing your hair back, his touch gentle despite the chaos around you. "I’m getting you out of here."

"I-I don’t understand..." You barely got the words out before he swept you into his arms, moving faster than you thought possible.

The world blurred.

Behind you, your friends screamed and fought like rabid beasts. Glass shattered. Somewhere, someone was crying.

And then everything went quiet.

{Part One}{Part Three}

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wholoveseggs · 7 days ago

Text

The tag list is dead. I have killed it.

Frankly, it was tedious and annoying (you can't just copy and paste) ...and half the time, Tumblr doesn’t even notify the people tagged.

Solution? Follow and set up notifications for my sideblog @eggontheside. I only reblog my fic posts there. Nothing else. No spam ever. ♡♡

To all the beautiful people on my tag list: ♡♡ I love you the most. This isn’t personal at all. ♡♡ I just hate doing it lol xoxoxoxo

Note to my beloved Daemon tag listers:

Due to a recent Game of Thrones rewatch, I will be writing a whole bunch of ASOIAF fics very soon.

I’ll be creating a separate sideblog for that content so my multi-fandom mess stays somewhat organized. I’ll tag you all one time when that blog launches so you can follow it if you like!

{Elijah Mikaelson Tag-List }

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka @sleepmusicland

@chaoticfanpeach @prettyinpinkandblack @brunettebri @aerangi @starkleila

@lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv @myanmy @xflowerbombxo

@always-and-forever-daydreaming @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton

@wickedmuse @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229

@yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp @madeinmyownmind-blog

@lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @xoxo-shy @maryvibesss

@nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@mrsmorganprentiss @melsunshine @levibabymama-blog @iamtoriasworld

{Daemon Targaryen Tag-List}

@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer

@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke

@deamonloverrrr @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonsleep

#lissa breaks hearts #housekeeping #elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #tvd #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #klaus mikaelson #to all my fellow writing blogs DON'T DO IT #IT'S FINE WHEN ITS A FEW PEOPLE #BUT THEN IT GETS OVERWHELMING REAL FAST

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wholoveseggs · 7 days ago

Note

Hello my love, I hope all is well! I have been missing you! I have one request to put on your pile: Elijah breaks up with y/n because he feels he can't keep her safe from the many enemies his family has. Y/n is heartbroken and has Niklaus compel the memory of her and Elijah away. She remembers him before their relationship, but not the love they shared for each other. Elijah is furious with Niklaus as he realizes he made a huge mistake letting her go. Y/n is living her best life while Elijah is dying inside. After a while, the family gets tired of seeing Elijah brood, and they find a way to contain Elijah and y/n in close quarters as Niklaus has her memories return. I picture it angsty and also pretty smutty.

Remnants {Part One}

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

Part One

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!reader} You almost died in his arms. Now Elijah has to decide which hurts worse: loving you, or losing you.

♡♡ hello darling @originals23 I love this idea so much I turned it into a series... xoxo♡♡

4.1k words - Warnings: smuttt, kidnapping, blood & injury, angst, hurt/comfort, protective Elijah in full panic mode, break-up sex (but like… lovingly), Klaus being weirdly nice, && a mysterious villain leaving bloodstained poetry...

{Part Two}{Part Three}

The first thing you felt when you came to was the ground. Solid concrete, cold and rough. You tried to roll onto your back, only to discover that your wrists were bound behind you. You slowly opened your eyes, dust and sand clinging to the dampness of your eyelashes. The room was dark. Your head pounded, and a faint metallic taste filled your mouth; it took you a moment to realize it was blood.

You sat up, wincing when the rough fabric of the ropes cut into your wrists. A sharp pain pierced your brain, and you slumped back to the floor. The world around you spun, and the room was silent, save for your ragged breathing. A warm pool of blood spread beneath you, soaking through your clothes. You looked down, confused. The sight of the dark crimson against your blue dress made you panic, and you began to weep.

Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any source of light. When you couldn’t find one, you gave up, trying to calm your breathing instead. Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as the memory of your last few moments came rushing back. You had been walking to your boyfriend’s home, just a block from your own, when someone had attacked you. Their arm had snaked around your throat, pulling you into an alley. You tried to fight back, but your assailant had been too strong. Or had there been more than one? You couldn’t remember. All you knew was that you had been stabbed, and you had blacked out.

A soft thud in the distance pulled you from your thoughts, and you held your breath, straining to hear. It was hard to tell how far away it was. Footsteps echoed through the darkness, coming closer.

You tried to sit up again, bracing yourself for the pain that followed. You couldn't see the source of the footsteps, but they seemed to be circling you. The sound of your racing heart filled your ears, and you struggled against the rope around your wrists. The footsteps stopped, and a pair of black boots appeared in front of you.

The man squatted down, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. He was pale, with light hair and dead eyes, as though he had been completely hollowed out.

"Where is Elijah Mikaelson?" he asked, his voice devoid of any emotion.

You flinched at the name, your lips trembling. "I-I don’t know. Please…"

The man didn’t react. He didn’t threaten you, didn’t smile, didn’t blink. He just stood up and disappeared again, footsteps echoing into the dark.

You collapsed forward, choking on a sob.

But not two minutes later, you heard another sound.

Faster. Heavier. Sharper.

Not boots. But dress shoes.

The air shifted like it always did around him; before you could see him, you felt him.

"Elijah," you whispered, barely conscious.

There was a sound of yelling, followed by a sickening crunch and a scream that was cut short. You squeezed your eyes shut, curling in on yourself, trying to block out the noises.

When silence finally fell, you dared to look.

He was there, covered in blood, fury rolling off him like a storm cloud. His eyes, usually so calm even when he was angry, were now blown wide and wild with panic.

He dropped to his knees beside you and caught your face in both hands. You could barely focus on him; the edges of your vision were darkening, and his voice sounded muffled.

He started yelling your name, over and over again, like saying it could keep you tethered. His hands moved over your body, trembling as he checked for wounds. You felt the press of his fingers at your throat, on your wrist, then cradling the back of your head.

"Stay with me," Elijah breathed, barely holding it together. "Please, darling, stay with me."

You tried to speak, but your lips wouldn’t form the words. Your body gave a weak twitch, and he exhaled a sound that bordered on a sob. You had never heard him sound like that before.

Your eyes started to close, the darkness swallowing him whole. You fought it, struggling to see him one last time, but your body had given up. You felt him press his wrist to your lips, felt the warm blood drip into your mouth, and then nothing.

The blood wouldn’t come off.

Elijah had scrubbed his hands three times already, but he could still see it. Under his nails. In the cracks of his knuckles. A smear along his wrist that had soaked through his cuff.

You were alive. That was what mattered.

But barely.

He stood in the corner of the compound’s kitchen, staring at the sink, one hand braced against the counter. He could still feel the way your body had gone limp in his arms. Still hear the rasp of your voice when you whispered his name.

He hadn’t been fast enough.

Footsteps approached. He didn’t turn.

"Is she alive?" Klaus said. His voice was low, cautious.

Elijah gave a stiff nod.

Klaus leaned against the counter beside him. "Did you catch who took her?"

Elijah was quiet for a moment. Then he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small, folded piece of paper. He handed it over without a word.

Klaus opened it.

No signature. No greeting. Just one sentence, written in the same dark red ink as before.

Every heart but mine is temporary.

Klaus let out a humorless laugh. "Rather creative."

"Do you find something amusing?" Elijah snapped.

"Yes," Klaus replied, unperturbed. "Your little girlfriend nearly died, and the one behind it all left us a poem."

Elijah's jaw tightened, and he reached up to adjust his tie. But his fingers brushed the spot on his collar where the blood had soaked through. The tie was ruined. As was his suit.

His hand dropped back to his side.

Klaus glanced over, noting his brother's uncharacteristic slouch."I can't imagine you'll let this stand."

"Of course not," Elijah replied, his voice strained. "But... I fear I've failed her. If I hadn't left her side, this wouldn't have happened."

"Elijah," Klaus sighed. "It's not-"

"Don't," Elijah interrupted. He finally turned to look at his brother, a flash of anger crossing his features. "Don't tell me it's not my fault. Someone tried to take her life because of her connection to me."

Klaus shrugged. "It's part of the package. She knew what she was getting into when she started dating a Mikaelson."

Elijah stared at him, his lips pressed into a thin line. He was too exhausted, too upset, and too distracted by the scent of your blood all over him to bother with a witty comeback. "She almost died, Niklaus. Her heart stopped. I felt it stop."

"But she didn't," Klaus said. "You gave her your blood. She's fine. Healed. Safe. Right upstairs."

"This time," Elijah said, voice sharp. Then quieter, "Next time, I might not."

Klaus tilted his head, watching him. "So what? You're going to leave her? Walk away?"

Elijah didn't answer. He didn’t have to.

Klaus let out a long breath. "You think distance is going to save her? That girl would walk through fire to find her way back to you."

Elijah looked away, his gaze drifting toward the door.

Klaus looked down at the paper again, lips curling into a grim smile. "And apparently… she’s not the only one."

When you woke up, the room you were now in was a world away from the last. The sunlight filtering through the curtains was soft and golden, and the ache in your body had dulled to a slow, manageable throb. You were tucked beneath Elijah’s sheets, clean and clothed in one of his soft button-downs. The pillows still smelled like him. But you were alone.

Your eyes fluttered open fully just as the bedroom door creaked.

He stood in the threshold, hair swept back, sleeves rolled, a cup of tea in one hand, steam curled around his knuckles. His eyes met yours, and something behind them broke. He put the cup down on the table beside the door, then was by your side in an instant, kneeling beside the bed.

You smiled softly at him. "Hey."

His dark eyes were brimming with emotion, but the rest of his face stayed carved from stone.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice steady.

"A little sore, but I'm okay."

He helped you sit up, propping pillows behind you. When you were comfortable, he leaned back, still kneeling.

You studied his face, searching for any clue as to what he was feeling. Your pulse kicked, bracing for an answer you already feared. His eyes flickered away, his jaw set.

"What happened, Elijah?"

"What do you remember?"

"I was walking. Someone grabbed me and I was stabbed," you said. "Then, there was this man. He wanted information about you… about where you were."

Elijah didn’t move. His hands were clenched into fists in his lap.

"And then, you were there," you said softly.

"And then I was there," he said, barely more than a breath, his eyes briefly flicking to the window as if he couldn’t bear to look at you.

"Thank you," you murmured.

His eyes flashed, and his mask slipped, if only for a moment. He looked haunted.

"Did you kill them?"

Elijah looked down, then stood and walked toward the window. "I did."

"Elijah…" you murmured, reaching out a hand.

He stiffened and turned his back. "You shouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. They were there for me."

You had seen that look before. The one where every sin in the world somehow traced back to him. "Come here," you whispered.

His shoulders sank, and he moved farther away from you. "I’m not going to stay."

Your hand fell, and your heart twisted painfully in your chest.

"No," you choked, your throat suddenly tight.

"You will be safer without me. They will not stop, and they will not hesitate to use you as a pawn. And I will not risk that. I cannot."

"No," you said again, your voice thick with tears. You got to your feet, legs trembling, head spinning from the sudden movement. "No, please, Elijah…"

You stumbled, your knees buckling beneath you, but his arms were around you in an instant, steadying you. He held you like that for a long time, his chin resting on top of your head, his hand cupping the back of your neck.

"I will always protect you. Nothing like this will ever happen to you again, I swear," he whispered.

He released you, but kept his hands on your waist. You shook your head, tears spilling onto your cheeks. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then let his hands fall, unable to look at you. He was already halfway out the door before you spoke.

"Do you still love me, Elijah?"

He paused and you waited, barely breathing.

"Yes."

The word hung in the air, suspended like the breath caught in your throat.

You were frozen, and so was he. Neither of you dared to move, neither of you dared to speak. You took a tentative step toward him, and he didn’t pull away. So you did it again. Then again. Until you were standing just behind him.

You reached up, running your fingers lightly over his shoulder, up the back of his neck, into his hair. His shoulders shuddered, and you stepped closer.

"Why are you hurting us, then?" you asked.

He let out a slow, controlled breath, afraid to speak. You slowly turned him to face you, your fingers still buried in his hair.

"Let’s not end this way," you murmured.

He shook his head. "We must."

"No."

He stared at you, his eyes dark and conflicted. "I’m sorry."

You kissed him. It was soft and slow, full of all the things you couldn’t say. It tasted like goodbye, salt and blood and promises neither of you could keep. For a moment, Elijah stayed perfectly still, like he was trying to memorize this moment, to hold onto every second before it slipped through his fingers.

"I don’t know how to love you without putting you in danger," he whispered against your lips, and then his restraint shattered.

His hands slid around your waist, pulling you impossibly close as he deepened the kiss, desperate, almost frantic.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, holding him against you. He lifted you easily, guiding your legs around his waist, swept you off shaky feet and laid you where the sheets still held your warmth.

He gently climbed over you, careful not to hurt you, but you pulled him down, needing the comforting weight of his body against yours. Your fingertips skimmed beneath his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, letting it fall away.

"I don’t want you to leave," you whispered, your voice breaking.

Elijah kissed the words away, lips tracing the line of your jaw, down your throat, stopping at the pulse that fluttered beneath your skin.

"I don’t want to leave," he murmured roughly, pressing another heated kiss to your collarbone. "But I must."

You arched into him, desperate to change his mind, even if only for a moment. His hands drifted lower, unbuttoning the shirt he had dressed you in, parting it gently, leaving a trail of soft, burning kisses on every inch of skin he revealed.

"I want you," you murmured, brushing his hair back, letting the soft locks fall between your fingers. "I don’t want to be without you."

He paused, meeting your gaze. For a moment, vulnerability and pain mixed with raw, unabashed love gleamed in his eyes. Then he blinked, and it was gone, replaced by his carefully crafted control.

Your mouths collided again, fierce and bruising this time. His hands moved to your thighs, lifting them to wrap around his waist; you could feel his hardness pressing against your core. You reached eagerly for his belt, unbuckling it quickly, helping him shed the last barrier between you.

He settled over you, his chest pressed flush against yours, skin against skin, heart against heart. He held your gaze, dark eyes filled with anguish and longing.

"I love you, Elijah," you whispered, holding his face in your hands, stroking his cheek. "This can’t be it."

His eyes fluttered closed, and he took a ragged breath.

"This can’t be it," you said again, softer this time.

"I’d rather break your heart than have your life snuffed out because of me," he replied.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "And I would rather die knowing that I was loved by you than live without it."

He stared down at you, eyes roving over every inch of your face.

"Don’t leave me," you pleaded, hating the way your voice cracked.

He kissed the tears from your cheeks, then lowered his lips to yours again, capturing them in a sweet, aching kiss.

"I love you," he whispered.

He eased into you as you wrapped your legs around his hips, needing him closer. It wasn’t frantic. It was slow and tender. An apology, forgiveness, every word and touch and stolen glance. It was the beginning, and the end, and everything in between.

His forehead rested against yours, eyes locked, watching the pleasure play across your face.

Your breathing became shallow, and Elijah shifted slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. He always knew what you needed, knew exactly how to make you fall apart, and this time he needed it more than anything.

He watched the ecstasy wash over you. Love, bliss, ruin…and it was almost enough to break him.

Heat coiled low in your belly, wound tight as wire. Every glide of his hips dragged across that sweet spot inside you, every retreat left you aching, reaching. Elijah bent to kiss your parted lips, swallowing your cries as you both fell apart.

Your bodies stilled together, hearts thrumming in the same ragged rhythm. You brushed trembling fingers along his jaw, searching his eyes for anything that might look like surrender.

"…do you want me to leave?"

His brow furrowed, agony flickering across his face. "No," he breathed. "I never want you to leave."

Relief bloomed in your chest, only to wither when he added, "But we can’t stay like this, either. Being with me will get you killed. It’s over."

It's over. The words cracked something inside you. Your vision blurred as hot, helpless tears welled and spilled. A sob tore free before you could bite it back. You buried your face against his neck, clutching at his shoulders.

"Don’t do this. I don’t care about the danger. I don’t care about any of it… just don’t let me go." you cried, voice breaking on every word.

He held you tighter, jaw clenched so hard you felt the tremor in his muscles. "I love you," he whispered hoarsely, "which is exactly why I have to."

You shook your head, sobbing harder, your tears streaking his skin. "No. No, you don’t. We can fight- together…"

"Enough." His tone was soft but unyielding, the finality of it slicing through you. "It has to end now, before the cost is your life."

The certainty in his voice stripped the fight from your limbs. Grief surged into rage-tinged panic. You shoved at his chest..once, twice. Until he let you push him back. The loss of his warmth felt colder than the concrete floor he had rescued you from.

You scrambled off the bed, throwing his shirt off of you and pulling on your bloodstained dress. He didn't move, didn't say a word, didn't look at you. You couldn’t look at him either. If you did, you would shatter.

"You know what's really unfair?" You asked, wiping at the tears that had started to fall again.

He was quiet for a moment. When he did speak, his voice was thick. "What?"

"I didn't ask to be human. I didn't ask to be vulnerable. But if the choice is between a lifetime without you and a few weeks with you, I'll choose the latter."

"Please don't make this harder than it already is."

"You're the one making it hard, Elijah."

You stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind you.

Your feet carried you down the stairs and toward the front door. Tears blurred your vision, and your head was spinning, but you kept going.

You almost made it outside when you slammed directly into something firm and immovable. Strong hands caught your shoulders, steadying you instantly.

"Careful, love," Klaus drawled softly. "What's got you running off?"

You looked up at him, startled and breathless. The smug smile died on his lips when he saw your tear-streaked face, replaced by something like genuine concern.

"Klaus," you rasped, voice cracking. "I-he ended it. Elijah...it's over."

His brow lifted slightly. "Did he now?"

You nodded, biting your trembling lip as fresh tears burned hot down your cheeks. "He's being a noble asshole," you whispered bitterly.

Klaus chuckled softly, but his expression softened slightly. "Yes, well. That's practically his middle name, isn't it?"

You choked on a laugh that quickly dissolved into another sob. Klaus hesitated…just for a moment, before gently guiding you toward the nearby sitting room. "Come now, no use running out in this state. You'll hardly make it to the sidewalk."

You sank down onto a nearby sofa, burying your face in your hands as your shoulders shook violently. Klaus stood awkwardly for a moment before settling onto the coffee table in front of you, elbows resting casually on his knees as he studied you thoughtfully.

"Elijah is many things. A fool. An honorable martyr. Stubborn, prideful, and far too self-righteous, especially considering the amount of blood on his hands." He paused, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "And most of all, an absolute wanker when it comes to women."

You sniffled, glancing up at him, and found his blue eyes fixed firmly on yours, a surprisingly earnest expression on his face.

"There are less complicated men out there, you know. Probably even ones who don't come with a handkerchief addiction and a list of enemies longer than a Tolkein novel."

You huffed a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "Don't try and make me laugh right now, Niklaus. It's not going to work."

Klaus shrugged. "I'm only saying. There are other options."

The very concept that you would have to move on, to let go of how Elijah made you feel and find a way to feel it again with someone else, was so absurd that you wanted to cry all over again.

"Other options," you voiced cracked, your face twisting with the effort of not crying. "Do those options have his stupid dimples or his stupid accent? His stupid, old fashioned chivalry or the stupid way he looks at me when I tell a terrible joke? Or- or his stupid, stubborn sense of honor, or his stupid fucking tongue that knows exactly how to-"

"Alright, alright," Klaus cut you off, looking mildly uncomfortable.

You buried your face in your hands again. "Sorry. I just..." The tears fell freely. You didn't even bother wiping them away.

"Love him," Klaus finished quietly, surprising you.

You nodded.

"Yes. He's stupid for you too," Klaus added after a moment, his tone almost gentle.

You couldn't help the watery laugh that slipped past your lips, or the way your heart squeezed at his words. You had never felt this kind of pain before. You hadn't even known that it was possible to love someone so deeply.

And that’s when it hit you. There was a way out. A way to stop the hurting.

You looked up at Klaus, eyes red-rimmed and desperate. "Can you do something for me?"

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "Depends on what you're asking."

You swallowed hard. "Can you... make it go away?"

His expression didn’t change. He didn’t speak. And for a moment, the silence felt louder than the heartbreak.

You were laughing before you even reached the bar.

Some ridiculous story had just come out of Liv’s mouth. Something about one of those fake psychics on Bourbon Street and a chicken bone reading gone horribly wrong. The way she told it made it impossible not to laugh, even if it sounded like complete bullshit.

She looped her arm through yours, tugging you along. "Come on," she grinned, dark eyes glittering beneath the fairy lights strung between buildings. "You promised me drinks, and I don’t take broken promises lightly."

"I think you promised me drinks," you countered, trying not to stumble on the uneven cobblestones in your heeled boots. "I distinctly remember being lured with tequila."

"Same thing," she said breezily. "Now let’s go flirt with someone dangerous."

Behind you, the others. Tasha, Adam, and Mike, laughed as they caught up. You had only known them for a few weeks, but somehow it already felt like a lifetime.

"I call dibs on any man with a jawline sharp enough to kill," Adam announced.

"And please leave the rich ones to me! I need rent money," Tasha quipped.

You giggled, a little tipsy already from the wine at dinner. The night air was warm and heady, the music drifting out of nearby bars pulsing through your veins. You felt good. Untethered. Like there was nothing in the world weighing you down.

No responsibilities.

No heartbreak.

Not one ancient, perfectly dressed vampire occupying your dreams.

Just fun.

You didn’t even question how quickly this group had become a fixture in your life.. or how naturally Liv had taken charge of it all. She had appeared out of nowhere, crashing into your world at the exact moment you needed someone wild and strange and relentlessly fun. She was curious about everything; your favorite music, your past relationships, the way you wore your hair. Like she was gathering data.

You had been feeling lost, maybe even hollow, and she filled the space with chaos and charm and a kind of reckless energy that made everything seem possible.

The others followed her lead like it was second nature. Even you did.

Tonight was just another blur of it all. The five of you dancing until your feet hurt, spinning through midnight air like nothing could touch you.

"I swear, if one more man with a gross little moustache tells me he ‘works in crypto’..." you were saying as the group leaned on the bar, waiting for your drinks.

"Natural selection used to do the heavy lifting," Liv said, sipping her drink through a straw. "Now it’s up to us."

You tilted your head. "You’re so weird."

She smirked. "You have no idea."

You laughed again, and this time it didn’t feel hollow. It felt like something was coming back to life. Like you were finally remembering how to breathe.

Even if sometimes, in quiet moments between songs or smiles, something inside you whispered that you had forgotten something important. Something that once mattered more than anything.

{Part Two}{Part Three}

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wholoveseggs · 28 days ago

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Hope your baby is ok🙏🏻🫶🏻💕

thank you 🥹 he’s doing a lot better now !! just a flare-up thankfully. He’s been extra snuggly and very high, which i’m choosing to take as a sign of healing... Or at least he's not in pain right now 💕💕

Here is some kitten egg & teenage egg

More sleepy guy 🥚

#lissa responds #my cat son #egg #cat #cats of tumblr #cute cats

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wholoveseggs · 28 days ago

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Is there anything we can do to help out with Egg?? 🥹🥚 He’s the face of your page, we love him!! 🫶

Thank you so much for checking in 💕 it was just a flare-up this time. He's home && he's okay. Right now he's currently chilling on my lap absolutely zooted. Those pain meds hitttt.

I want what he's on....

If you wanna toss a lil love his way (or help me with the vet bill cause 😭😭😭), my ko-fi is here

and if you can’t donate {which is totally okay!! I don't expect anything from y'all} sharing the link or just sending love is more than enough.

But truly, the sweet messages alone have meant so much!!! Egg and I love you lots.

#lissa responds #i love you guys 🥹#cats #my cat son #egg #cute cats #cats of tumblr #cute kitty #cat

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wholoveseggs · 28 days ago

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Is Egg okay?? What happened??

egg had to go to the vet a couple weeks ago with UTI symptoms — turns out he had crystals in his urine and was diagnosed with cystitis. it can be triggered by stress, and unfortunately my apartment building is mid–being converted into condos (yayyyy I have to move and I don't want to at allllllll), so there’s been nonstop loud construction for weeks.

He had to stay at the vet for a few nights but was finally doing better… until today, literally like two hours after I posted that he was fine 😭 I found blood in his litterbox, so we’re back at the vet for another round. fingers crossed it’s just a flare-up and not something worse. he’s being very brave 🥚

the vet loves him tho~

#egg #egg posting #my cat son #lissa responds #cats #cats of tumblr

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wholoveseggs · 28 days ago

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#my favorite scene 🥵🥵#elijah mikaelson #the originals

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wholoveseggs · 28 days ago

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#🫠🫠🫠🥰🥰🥰#the originals #elijah mikaelson

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wholoveseggs · 28 days ago

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#ughhhhhhh #hes so beautiful #elijah mikaelson #the originals

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wholoveseggs · 28 days ago

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I am in love with your writing. You’re spoiling us with this Mikaelson week, truly. How long did you imagine Elijah and reader knowing each other before Losing?

Ahhh thank you so much!! You spoil me more with all your love ♡

As for Losing, I imagined Elijah and reader having been close for quite a while... like months to years of slow-burn tension. The kind of easy friendship that could tip into something more with nothing but a single look held too long.

&& I always love writing Elijah full of quiet pining and longing. Its like his default state majority of the time. Unlike his brothers, he’s far more reserved with his affections. It’s all in the looks, the timing, the things he almost says. Until he can’t hold it in anymore. (Or, y’know… when the woman he’s in love with just jumps his bones. That works too...)

#lissa responds #lissasmikaelsonweek #elijah mikaelson

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wholoveseggs · 28 days ago

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Hiii, welcome back!! I hope everything has been not to frantic during your absence, or at least that it got better now :)) Sending so much support and love out your way!!

(lots of thanks for the mikaelson week <33)

Thank you darling! things have been a little bananas behind the scenes (my apartment is being sold && sick egg... he’s okay now!!), but jumping back into writing again and seeing your messages makes life feel normal again.

#lissa responds #lissasmikaelsonweek #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #kol mikaelson

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wholoveseggs · 28 days ago

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Surrender

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words came out flat. Polished. Safe.

Inside, he was anything but.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kneel."

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

And he dropped.

No hesitation. No arrogance. Just obedience.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only with you did it not feel like a curse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only then did you release your grip.

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

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

"Better?" you asked quietly.

His nod was immediate. Small. Honest.

You smiled.

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

And just like that, he followed.

#lissasmikaelsonweek #elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine #elijah mikealson smut

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wholoveseggs · 29 days ago

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I just read your latest fic and omg! I love your writing style and the way you write the reader as a virgin is chefs kiss! Okay now I feel like we need a Klaus x virgin!Reader fic from you to complete the set. I don't have any ideas on the scenario so hopefully your brilliant mind can come up with something or you can combine it with another request? But can the reader be like 25+ (only because that's around the age that I imagine Klaus to be) and life just happened and life with the Original Vampires never really left room for relationships and she didn't want to just fuck some random stranger for her first time?

Dreams

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

{Klaus Mikaelson x f!reader} A drunken confession leads to an unexpected night with Klaus, where fantasy blurs into reality, and your first time becomes unforgettable.

♡♡ thanks for the request beautiful anon!!! &&.. you are right I have to complete the set ~xo ♡♡

3.9k words - Warnings: smuttt, first time, virgin!reader, teasing, oral sex (f!receiving), drunk Rebekah, sex dream confessions, reader insecurity && Klaus being sweet...

“I swear on my eternity, I won’t tell a soul,” Rebekah promised, eyes wide and wine-glossed.

You squinted at her. “You said that last time.”

“That was about stealing from Elijah’s wine stash. This is your sex life. Entirely different. Totally private.” She drained the dregs of her glass, then held it out. You refilled it, trying not to roll your eyes.

“What sex life?” You muttered.

Rebekah gave you a look, all wide-eyed and scandalised, “You mean to tell me,” she began, dramatically setting her wineglass down like the stem offended her, “you’ve never...wait. Not even once?”

You groaned, already regretting everything. “Can we not...”

“Not even a casual drunken hookup?” she pressed, scandalized. “You’re twenty-seven.”

“Exactly. And busy. And constantly surrounded by immortal egomaniacs with god complexes,” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. “Not exactly a dating pool.”

“And yet,” she said, one brow arching like a knife, “you’ve had plenty of time to dream about my brother bending you over every surface in the compound.”

Your mouth dropped open. “What did you just say? You said you wouldn't tell anyone about that!"

Rebekah shrugged, a mischievous smile playing over her lips. "It was a slip of the tongue."

You groaned again.

She nudged your ankle with her bare foot. "Don't be embarrassed. It's actually rather endearing that you've got such a schoolgirl crush."

"It's not a crush. I don't know what it is," you confessed. "They just happen, okay? It's not like I want them to. But the suddenly he's there, and the next thing I know... he's not wearing any clothes, and we're kissing, and-"

"Okay," Rebekah interrupted, "you don't have to go into detail. I'm quite certain I can imagine what happens next."

"Well, that makes one of us."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't have any idea what the rest of it would feel like," you said, voice small. You picked up the bottle and took a swig straight from it.

Rebekah gave you a sympathetic look, reaching for your hand. "I'm sure you'll find a lovely guy soon enough… and have lots of sex."

"Whose having lots of sex?"

You froze, bottle still tilted in your hand.

Rebekah went very still beside you. Her grip on your fingers tightened just slightly..whether in apology or panic, you couldn’t tell.

Slowly, mechanically, you turned your head toward the sound of Klaus’s voice.

He stood in the doorway to the parlour, arms folded loosely over his chest, one brow lifted in open amusement. His curls were tousled, his shirt half-unbuttoned, and his smile... that was the real danger. Lazy, knowing, smug. The kind of smile a man wore when he already knew the answer to the question he’d just asked.

“Rebekah?” he prompted, his gaze flicking to his sister, who stared back at him like a deer caught in vampire headlights.

She cleared her throat. “Oh, you know. Just girl talk.”

He stepped further into the room, his gaze settling on you. You looked away, pretending to be fascinated by a loose thread in the cushion beside you. He chuckled and flopped down beside Rebekah, sprawling his legs out, taking up every inch of space, a king on his throne.

For a moment, there was silence, punctuated by the faint sounds of jazz music spilling through the windows and the clink of the bottle against your teeth as you took another sip.

You set the bottle down a little too hard. “I should go.”

Rebekah gave a weak little laugh, clearly trying to help but already retreating. “Oh, don’t be dramatic-”

“No, really,” you cut in, rising so quickly your foot caught on the edge of the rug. You stumbled, recovered, didn’t look at either of them. “It’s late. I’m tired. And apparently incapable of keeping my mouth shut when wine is involved.”

Rebekah made a soft, protesting sound, but didn’t move to stop you. And you rushed towards the front door as fast as you could without looking like a total fool.

A shadow flickered at the edge of your vision, and you turned, pulse skipping. A figure leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, mouth quirked up in a knowing smile.

Klaus. Of course it was Klaus.

He blocked the way. The hallway felt suddenly narrower, the air heavier, as you came to a stumbling halt. Your cheeks burned, your heart pounding. He raised an eyebrow, smile deepening. He had a dimple. Somehow, it only made him more handsome.

"Running away, love?" he asked, tone smooth as silk.

"No." You answered too quickly, voice tight. "Just tired. Need sleep. Goodnight."

He did not move. Instead, his smile widened. You stepped sideways, trying to slip past, but he shifted effortlessly, mirroring you. Casual. Precise. Unyielding.

Your glare sharpened, but he only looked more amused.

"What?" you snapped, folding your arms.

"Are you really leaving because of what I overheard?"

You stared at him, defiant but humiliated. "What do you think?"

"I think there is no need to be embarrassed," he said, voice low and husky.

"Embarrassed?" You let out a weak laugh, shifting again, eyes darting toward the exit he was blocking.

“There is nothing wrong with a healthy sex drive, sweetheart.”

“There is also nothing wrong with wanting to die when someone overhears you talking about said sex drive.”

He chuckled and stepped closer.

Your back hit the wall. The impact was gentle, but it still made you flinch. You stiffened, shoulders locking, spine straightening as if you could will yourself invisible. You refused to shrink away.

Klaus stopped in front of you, gaze locked to yours. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, little dreamer,” he said, voice like smoke curling through the dark.

You swallowed hard. The heat in your face crept down your throat, coiling in your chest and belly. Every inch of you felt laid bare.

“Please move.”

“In a minute.”

“Nik.”

He leaned in, his face impossibly close, his lips almost brushing your cheek. “I'll tell you a secret,” he said. “If you stop blushing and look me in the eyes.”

You hesitated, then obeyed. Slowly, you lifted your gaze. His eyes burned into yours and he smiled, slow and sweet. The kind of smile that could undo you.

“Better.”

You felt your breath catch. “What is your secret?” you whispered.

“I have had dreams about you too.” His fingers found your jaw and traced the line of it, featherlight. “About this pretty mouth. These soft hands. What I might find if I peeled off all your layers and tasted the skin beneath.”

“Stop,” you said, but there was no force behind it. Your voice cracked. Your face burned. You could barely breathe.

He did not laugh. He did not push. He just watched you.

His eyes searched yours, then dropped briefly to your mouth. “Why have you never done it?” he asked, voice quieter now, stripped of any teasing.

You blinked. “What?”

Klaus tilted his head, expression softer than you had ever seen it. “You said you have never had sex. Not even once. Why?”

Your throat tightened. “I don’t know. Life. Bad timing. Shitty options.” You shrugged. “And maybe…” You hesitated. “Maybe I didn’t want my first time to be with someone who’d forget it five minutes later.”

Klaus’ smirk faded... not all the way, but enough that something earnest slipped through. Something sharp. “And you think I would?”

You looked up at him then, finally. He was watching you carefully. No teasing. Just quiet, simmering intensity.

“I don’t know what you’d do.”

He reached out, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek. “Then let me show you.”

You swallowed.

He stepped closer, his palm curving over your cheek, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes. He was smiling again, but there was something different about it. Something gentler.

"I would never disrespect your trust, sweetheart," he promised, thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. "Nor would I ever treat the privilege of being your first anything lightly."

"And you..." Your voice faltered, but his touch was warm, and his gaze was steady. "You won't ...tell anyone? About any of this?"

He smiled. "I wouldn't dare."

"Okay," you whispered, and his lips were suddenly so close, and his arms were slipping around you, and you could smell the spice of his cologne and the sweetness of bourbon and feel the warmth of his breath.

"Okay," he echoed, his lips brushing yours, then his tongue, teasing your mouth open, tasting you. You gasped, and he made a soft, satisfied sound, pressing closer, his body molding to yours.

"Is this alright, love?" he murmured, one hand sliding down your spine, curving over the swell of your ass.

You nodded.

"Need to hear you say it, sweetheart," he said.

You swallowed, meeting his eyes. "Yes."

He smiled and kissed you again, his hands seeking yours, fingers intertwining. Then he broke the kiss, gently tugging you by the hand as he led you down the hall. His room was dim, draped in shadows. You saw glimpses of a large bed, an easel, a wall of books.

Then the door closed, and it was just you and him.

You hesitated, not sure what to do, how to move. He seemed to understand, reaching for you again, gathering you close to him by the waist.

"Relax," he said, kissing the side of your neck. "Your heart is racing."

You laughed weakly. "Can't really help it."

"Do I scare you?"

"No," you answered, a little too quickly.

He smirked, catching the lie.

"It's just..." You shrugged, feeling like a silly little girl. "This is a big deal."

"It is," he agreed.

"But I... I'm not completely clueless. I mean, I have internet. And books. And..." You blushed, realizing you were rambling.

Klaus's expression was somewhere between amused and fond. He leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth.

"Sweetheart, I am well aware of the fact that you've spent an indecent amount of time imagining me naked and writhing on top of you."

You blushed hotly. "I was not -"

He chuckled and began to back you towards the bed, his hands skimming your waist, the curve of your hips. "I know the sorts of things that are on your mind," he murmured.

You stumbled, falling back against the mattress, and he followed you down, covering your body with his, surrounding you in heat and skin and steady breath. One of his hands braced by your head, the other slipping beneath you to curve around your hip, grounding you.

You tilted your chin and met his mouth again before he could say something else smug. He hummed against your lips, amused but pleased, letting you set the pace for a few heartbeats. Then he caught your lower lip between his teeth and nipped gently, his hand sliding up the hem of your shirt, spreading heat across your stomach.

"Still okay, sweetheart?" He whispered.

"Mhm," you managed, gasping when his teeth grazed the delicate shell of your ear.

He leaned back, just far enough to tug off his shirt. You bit your lip, tracing the shape of the tattoo, heat creeping through you, pooling between your thighs. He watched you, his gaze warm, his eyes bright. He smiled when he caught you staring at the trail of hair that led down his stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

"Now your turn," he said.

You hesitated, heart fluttering, a sudden spike of nervousness. But Klaus didn't rush you. Just waited, smiling, patient and steady.

Slowly, you reached for the bottom of your shirt and tugged it over your head.

His breath caught.

His pupils dilated.

And then, slowly, his hand found yours again. "May I?"

You nodded.

His knuckles traced the curve of your jaw, then brushed lightly along the hollow of your throat. Slowly, slowly, slowly, his palm flattened against the space between your collarbones, the tips of his fingers dipping beneath the edge of your bra.

Your breath hitched.

"So soft," he murmured. His fingers slid over the swell of your breasts, then down, finding the catch. You heard the fabric tear and felt the lace pull free, the sudden rush of cool air and warmth from his hands making you gasp.

Klaus groaned, leaning down, his breath ghosting across your bare chest. "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on," he murmured. Then his mouth was closing over your nipple, and you arched against him, moaning.

"You like that?" he asked, his tongue flicking the hard little nub.

"Mmmhm."

He chuckled, then sucked gently.

You whimpered, squirming.

"Still okay, love?" He asked, pausing, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"Don't stop."

"Bossy," he teased, smirking, moving to the other side.

He lavished the same attention there, his tongue swirling, his lips tugging, his hand stroking the underside, squeezing, massaging. You moaned and whimpered, clutching his hair, arching up against him, seeking pressure, friction. He pressed closer, you could feel his erection straining against the denim, his hips moving in time with his tongue.

He kissed the soft valley between your breasts, then began to trail his mouth lower, leaving a burning path in his wake. He pulled your jeans down with agonizing slowness, his mouth following, until his lips were at the apex of your thighs. Your hands clutched the sheets, breath catching as the tension that had been building all night surged forward all at once. Pure need, panic, heat, all tangled together in your chest.

“Nik...wait.”

He froze instantly. His hands paused on your hips, his mouth barely brushing your inner thigh.

His head lifted. “Too fast?”

You shook your head. “No. I just…” You swallowed. “You don’t have to do that.”

A wicked grin spread across his face. He leaned down, nuzzling the damp spot on your panties, his stubble grazing the sensitive skin.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His voice dropped, rough and low. “Who told you that?”

You tried to sit up, flustered. “It’s just...I know that’s not always... expected. Especially for a first time.”

Klaus moved before you could finish the thought, pushing you back down. He moved slowly, deliberately, crawling back up the length of your body, pinning you beneath him, his lips brushing yours.

“You think I brought you here, laid you out on my bed, listened to those little noises you make...” his hips rolled gently into yours, enough for you to feel the thick press of him through his jeans, “...just to skip the part where I get to taste you?"

He kissed you again, his tongue parting your lips, his teeth grazing, nipping, sucking. You moaned into his mouth, and he rolled his hips against yours again, harder.

"Do you like the way I taste?" He asked, his voice a low purr.

You nodded, dizzy, unable to think.

"So why wouldn't I want the same?" He whispered, kissing a trail down your jaw, your neck, your chest, settling back between your thighs. "Why wouldn't I want to know what you taste like when you come on my tongue?"

Your whole body burned. You stared at him, unable to form words.

He smiled. Slowly, deliberately, he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, sliding them past your knees, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder.

You felt his breath, hot and gentle, on your bare skin.

"So beautiful," he murmured. His hands parted your thighs, revealing the most intimate parts of you, all slick and swollen and wanting.

He made a low, hungry sound, then dragged his tongue through the length of you, looking up at you from beneath those lashes.

"That's it," he murmured. "Look at me. Look at what I'm doing to you."

You kept your eyes open, heavy, hooded, watching his tongue slide through you again, and again, his lips closing over your clit, sucking gently, his tongue swirling, his stubble rubbing. It was too much, the sight of him, the sound of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. You felt like you were unraveling.

He made a soft, humming sound. His hand left your thigh, his fingers sliding inside you. Your head fell back, your eyes squeezing shut, a broken moan leaving your throat.

"Keep looking, love," he said.

You managed to open your eyes, looking down the length of your body at him. His eyes were bright, focused, fixed on you. His mouth was curled in a smile, his tongue still tracing the hard little bud between your legs. Your body responded, bucking, twisting, writhing, pleasure rolling through you in waves, growing stronger, hotter.

"Oh," you gasped. "Oh, god."

"No," he murmured. "Just Klaus."

He pressed deeper, crooked his fingers, and you were gone. Your head fell back, the pleasure crashing over you, drowning you. Your whole body tensed, trembled, your thighs clamped down on either side of his head. He kept working you through it, his tongue still swirling, his fingers pumping, dragging out the release until you were boneless and limp, sinking into the mattress.

Klaus rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a wolfish smile playing across his lips. "Delicious," he purred.

You managed a weak smile, your cheeks burning, your breathing still coming in ragged, shallow gasps. He sat back on his knees, his hands working at the button on his jeans.

"I can-" You began, trying to push yourself up.

"Shhh," he soothed, "I've got it, love. Lie back. Relax."

"But…"

"If I let you touch me now, I won't last long," he confessed, pushing the denim and his boxers down his hips, revealing all of himself. You were momentarily distracted by the flex of muscle, the perfect expanse of warm skin pressing into yours.

Then his hands were back on your thighs, spreading you open, positioning himself. You felt the blunt head of him slide through your wetness, and you gasped. You had imagined this moment. Dreamed of it an embarrassing amount of times. Woken up sweaty and panting, aching between your legs, wishing he were there to take care of it. And now, finally, you were going to get the chance to feel him. To really feel him.

"Look at me," he said, his hand cupping your cheek.

Your eyes flicked up to his.

"Breathe."

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to relax.

"That's it," he praised, pressing deeper. He was beautiful, his chest and shoulders flexing, muscles coiled and trembling, the effort of being gentle written in the lines on his forehead.

You felt a twinge of pain, a pinch, then the ache and stretch as your body yielded to him, the pressure and the heat, the sensation of fullness. You gasped, and his hand found yours, tangling your fingers together. He pressed a little deeper, his teeth scraping over the delicate curve where your neck met your shoulder. You whined, clutching at him.

"Easy," he soothed, "you're doing so well, love. So good."

Your cheeks flushed, a strange swell of pride blooming in your chest. You tilted your head, exposing more of your neck.

"Please," you gasped.

"Please, what?"

"Kiss me."

"Like this?" His lips ghosted over your collarbone, his lips curving upward. "Right here?"

"No. Yes. Higher."

"Here?" His lips skimmed the hollow of your throat, his smile growing.

You let out a soft, impatient whine.

"Or here?" He kissed the corner of your mouth, smiling, smug.

You made a soft, frustrated sound and caught his mouth, kissing him hungrily. He made a pleased hum and returned the kiss, his tongue stroking, his teeth nipping, his lips claiming. His hips rolled gently, and you gasped.

"That's it," he purred.

You moaned, your legs wrapping around him, drawing him deeper, wanting more. He gave a breathless laugh, and moved faster, the pace changing, deepening, until his hips were slamming into yours, the room filling with the sounds of skin on skin, his low, guttural groans, the high, breathless sounds spilling from your own lips.

The pressure was building fast. Too fast, too strong. Your body felt like it couldn’t contain it, like everything inside you was tightening, winding tighter with every thrust, every graze of his chest against your breasts, every filthy word murmured against your skin.

Your nails dug into his back, and his fingers found your clit again, circling fast and perfect.

"Yes, love, that's it, just like that."

That did it.

You shattered.

The orgasm hit like lightning. Sharp, consuming, full-body. You cried out, legs tightening around him, entire body shaking as the waves crashed through you.

Klaus groaned into your mouth, slamming into you one last time before he spilled inside you with a curse and a growl that sounded like it had been pulled from the pit of his chest. His whole body shuddered, muscles flexing, arms locked around you as he buried his face in your neck, his mouth sucking a mark into the soft, delicate skin, his breath warm and ragged against you.

The room was quiet after that, nothing but the sound of his breath and yours, the distant rumble of a passing car, the ticking of a clock. You felt drunk, your body heavy and warm and sated, your head spinning. Klaus rolled to the side, his arm still thrown over your middle. He tugged you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “I think you scrambled my brain.”

He laughed.

Your cheeks burned, and you buried your face against his chest.

He caught your chin, forcing you to look at him. He was grinning, and his cheeks were flushed. He leaned in, kissing you again, the smile never fading.

"So," he said, when he pulled away, his hand tracing lazy circles along your back. "Any regrets?"

You shook your head.

He grinned, and rolled on top of you, pinning you beneath him, his hands finding yours.

"Good," he said, kissing your nose. "Because we're only just getting started."

You swallowed. "Only?"

"Well, you have a lot to catch up on, sweetheart."

You laughed, breathless and still a little dazed. "God, what have I gotten myself into?"

Klaus smirked and leaned in, brushing his lips over your cheek. “Something far better than your dreams.”

Sleep came fast after that. Your body blissed-out and warm, your mind wrapped in the steady rhythm of his breath against your back. When you stirred hours later, the room was bathed in soft morning light. The air smelled faintly of coffee and cologne.

You blinked, eyes adjusting, and found him across the room, sitting in a chair by the window, shirtless, hunched over a sketchpad.

His hand moved in sure strokes, charcoal-stained fingers dancing. His eyes lifted when he felt you watching and a slow smile spread across his face.

“Caught me,” he murmured.

You stretched beneath the covers, muscles deliciously sore. “What are you drawing?”

He flipped the pad closed with a flick. “A keepsake,” he said. “For me.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t want to show me?”

He stood, crossing to the bed, placing the sketchpad face-down on the nightstand. Then he leaned over, his palm skimming along your hip, the sheets slipping away as his lips found yours.

“I’ll show you someday. But first...breakfast, a bath, and perhaps... round two?”

You flushed, smiling helplessly as he pressed you back against the pillows. "Are you always this demanding?"

He nipped your lip and tugged on it, his hand slipping lower. "Not at all, sweetheart. Usually I'm worse."

#lissasmikaelsonweek #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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