writememysticfalls

[writememysticfalls]

Naughty | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: Elijah's body starts to misbehave when he's around you. Elijah has to hide it before he makes a fool of himself.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Genre: Suggestive, fluffy, flustered!Elijah

Word Count: <1k

Elijah blinked, trying to remember what he had been doing. From the moment you entered the kitchen in a sheer lilac slip dress, everything had gone hazy.

You stretched for the can of coffee on the top shelf. “Elijah,” you called. “A leg up, please?”

Elijah cleared his throat. “Of course.”

He kneeled on the floor, and you stepped on his thigh, grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself.

As you reached for the coffee, and Elijah watched your silk dress skate higher and higher up your brown thigh.

“Almost…” you said, moving your foot up Elijah’s leg, till it almost brushed his crotch.

Elijah felt sparks of pleasure run up his leg. His body started to misbehave. He could not let you see this.

Elijah moved away from you so fast you fell onto the floor.

“Elijah?” you said, catching your breath. “What happened?”

Elijah cursed. Did this have to happen now? In front of you, his brother’s friend?

You pulled Elijah towards you, and gasped.

Elijah’s eyes were red, and veins covered his cheeks. His fangs were pointing out.

“Oh no, Elijah,” you said. “Are you hungry? When did you last feed?”

Elijah gulped. “Vampires gain their fangs when hungry… threatened… or aroused.”

You laughed into your hands. “Oh my god. Did I just give Elijah Mikaelson a vampire hard-on?”

Elijah’s grabbed the doorframe with one hand, crushing it. “It's nothing. I just need a few moments to collect myself.”

You sucked your cereal spoon, smiling. “So you do have a thing for me.”

“Of course not. Mere coincidence,” Elijah said, mopping his brow with his handkerchief. His fangs shrunk away.

“So,” you said naughtily, “nothing will happen if I do this.”

You dropped the spoon at his feet and bent to pick it up. Elijah’s eyes were glued to your dangling necklace… and your soft chest beneath.

Elijah’s fangs shot out with a hiss. “For the love of God,” he muttered.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you said, slinging your hands over his shoulders. “It's cute.”

Elijah shut his eyes. “I am not some newborn vampire, unable to control his lust.”

“But you are around me,” you said, gazing up at him through your lashes.

Elijah watched you with open-mouthed awe, not even trying to hide his fangs.

“It's okay,” you said, lowering your voice. “I have an insane vamp boner for you.”

“Is that so?” he said, his lips pulling up.

Your eyes were wide and innocent as you toyed with Elijah’s collar. “So, what can a vampire do when their fangs…misbehave?”

Elijah smiled down at you, pulling your body against his. His fingers made tiny circles on the silk over your waist.

“There are many options,” he said quietly. “Usually one would leave, but you will not let me. One may try to think about something else,” he coiled your hair around his finger, “but that is also proving impossible.” He raised his chin sharply. “That leaves, well, embracing the situation.”

He swept your hair away from your throat.

“May I?” he said. His fangs were poised over your neck to drink.

Your eyes slipped shut and your breath hitched in your throat. “Of course I'll help you with your little problem,” you said. “You can address my sticky situation later."

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[writememysticfalls]

Unfaithful | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: "Jackson turned to you, his eyes hard and black. What he said was not a question. “You were fucking the vampire.”"

You're meant to marry Jackson today - but Elijah keeps getting in the way.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Genre: Suggestive, Angsty

Word count: <1k

“I'm so sorry I'm late,” you breathed, as you ran into the cabin in the Bayou.

Two young girls held out your wedding dress for you to step into. It was a rough moon-white, with tendrils that wrapped around your brown legs.

Jackson was in the corner, buttoning up his shirt over the rough brown planes of his chest.

“Where were you last night?” he said gruffly. “We all expected you.”

“I needed to clear my head.”

“No, scratch that,” Jackson said. “I knew exactly what you were doing. Or who you were doing.”

“Be very careful what you're suggesting, Jackson,” you said, following him.

Jackson turned to you, his eyes hard and black. “I'm suggesting you were fucking the vampire.”

Your mouth fell open. You hadn't seen Elijah in weeks. Last night, you had fallen asleep over a book on Crescent wedding ceremonies.

“Kids!” Jackson’s grandmother said, touching your shoulders. “I don't care what little fight you're having. You need to make that crowd out there believe your love story, 100%. They won't join in unless they believe this marriage will last forever.”

Jackson’s voice was chilling in your ear. “I'll play the part. But just know, this wedding means nothing **to me.”

“Thank you so much for being here to witness our love!” Jackson called to the audience.

“You're holding my hand too tight,” you hissed. He was almost crushing it with his werewolf strength. He let go.

“Yes, thank you!” you repeated.

The two of you stood there awkwardly. Whispers spread through the crowd. Could they tell you were fighting?

“Pick me up,” you whispered.

“No way am I-” Jackson started, but then he gritted his teeth and scooped you into his arms.

You clung to the warm firmness of his chest. “Jackson!” you giggled, stroking his shirt. “Put me down!”

Jackson laughed, and spun you around. You leaned into his chest, your dress fluttering in the breeze.

“Sorry, folks!” he called. “I just can't keep my hands off this beautiful woman!”

The audience cooed. You were shocked - you almost believed his joyful tone.

Soon, you had reached the final, and most important, part of the wedding. Night had fallen, and the crescent moon wavered on the water of the Bayou.

Jackson and you were standing, holding hands. Behind each of you was a curved line of unlit bonfires.

Jackson’s grandmother called, “The couple’s minds and hearts are linked. They must each think of the person they most love, and the bonfires will burst into flame, symbolising the eternal fire of their marriage.”

“I will go first,” Jackson announced.

His strong arms wrapped around yours to the elbow, keeping you warm in the chill breeze.

He closed his eyes.

Jackson had treated you like dirt - worse than dirt - all day. That's why you were stunned when you saw inside his mind.

Suddenly, you were filled with a feeling of love, so powerful you would have collapsed onto the ground in tears if he wasn't holding you.

Images flashed through your head.

ANDREA LABONAIR, the name wished on every birthday candle, every shooting star, for twenty years.

You, newly arrived in the Bayou, your brown cheeks glowing with passion. Your fierce cheekbones and proud chin made it clear what you were - a princess.

A surprisingly soft side - your smile as you accepted Jackson’s engagement ring.

You heard a huge whoosh. You opened your eyes, and saw that the six bonfires behind Jackson had burst into flame.

Jackson’s lip was twitching, his eyes wet, as he looked at you. It was a kinder look than you deserved.

“My turn,” you called out, taking Jackson’s hands. You took a deep breath, and focused.

The soft brown muzzle of the wolf, peeking out at you in the Bayou. An instant feeling of safety.

Jackson, at the bonfire party, his crooked smile as he flirted with you.

Fire flickered up on the bonfires - then died out again. Everyone in the crowd started whispering.

You breathed hard, digging your nails into Jackson’s arms.

“Y/n,” he said, under his breath. “Listen to me.”

You shook your head. “Give me a minute. I've got this.”

“Y/n,” he said, and his voice was so broken that you stopped to listen. “It doesn't work like that,” he said. “Love shouldn't be this hard.”

“It's not hard,” you whispered.

Jackson stroked your arms, giving you a lopsided smile. “You don't need to protect me. Nobody else can see what you're thinking about. So just do it.”

“No,” you said, screwing your eyes shut.

His voice was urgent. “Please. I need this wedding to work.”

“Don't say it,” you breathed.

Jackson’s breath shook, and for a second, you thought he might call the whole wedding off.

Then, he said, “Think about Elijah.”

You gripped Jackson’s arms tight enough to hurt. He groaned. You knew he was preparing himself for the worse pain to come.

It was a strange feeling - breaking down the barriers you had carefully built in your mind and letting yourself think about Elijah. It was like stepping backwards off a cliff and letting yourself fall.

Jackson’s grin, his chestnut eyes flashing.

The image faded.

It was slowly replaced by the feeling of ice cold water on your body. A pool, glowing blue. Two strong arms on your waist, supporting you. White shirtsleeves rolled up over rough brown skin. Elijah’s concerned eyes, the centre of your vision.

Elijah pulling your arm back to him, later that night. Pulling your waist to his and kissing you, hard, on the mouth. Your body bending back under his fierce grasp. The cool, minty taste of his tongue.

The image changed, and Elijah’s body was over yours, the wood of the floorboards cold under your back. He sucked your neck, making it ache in the best way. His hands sent shivers down the backs of your thighs. He pulled your body, hard, towards him.

Afterwards, his forehead pressing against yours. You were both smiling too much to kiss, your teeth bumping each other’s.

“I love you, Elijah,” you said, biting your lip.

He frowned. “Don't say anything you don't mean-”

“I love you,” you repeated, your lips opening to meet his.

There was a terrifying whoosh as six bonfires exploded into flame at once. The flame jumped off the logs, lighting the grass, as if it would burn the whole forest down. Thankfully, it died down.

Firelight burned in Jackson’s eyes. He was panting, mouth, open, like he'd just been wounded. You could taste the salt of your own tears.

You turned to face the cheering guests, gripping Jackson’s hand.

“I love you, Hayley,” Jackson called, and you knew he meant it.

You took a deep breath. “I love you too, Jackson.”

And in that moment, you sounded so convincing, you almost fooled yourself.

_

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[writememysticfalls]

Bite Me | Kol Mikaelson

Summary: You demand that Kol turn you into a vampire. He agrees to help you... with one naughty condition.

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Genre: Suggestive

Word count: <1k

“Well, well, well,” Kol said, leaning on the doorframe, his arms crossed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need you to turn me,” you said.

Kol said, “You're not even going to wine me and dine me before asking me for a favour?”

You rolled your eyes and began to march into the house. “Don't be difficult, Kol.”

Your breath stopped short when Kol grabbed the doorframe with one arm, stopping you from entering.

“I'll do this for you, L/n - but we're going to do it my way,” Kol said.

“Fine,” you agreed, following Kol inside.

When you were sat down in the living room, Kol rolled up one of his black shirt sleeves, revealing his pale skin, which rippled with a network of veins.

“You have to feed me your blood, right?” you asked.

“Not so easy,” Kol said. “If you want to become a vampire, you have to bite me yourself.”

“What?” you said. “That's not fair. ”

Kol shrugged. “Oh, come on, sweetie. You'll be doing it all the time when you're immortal.”

You shook your head. “For a vampire, it's normal. For a human, it's sick.”

Kol shook his head, smiling. “No, darling. Vampirism is always sick. Being a vampire is a hell of a lot of fun. But it also means becoming a bloodthirsty monster. If you can't take that, you're not ready.”

You fought the tears of disgust pricking your eyes. “You're a sadistic asshole, Kol,” you snapped.

He leaned in, placing a finger on your chin and staring into your eyes. “And you will become a sadistic asshole too, if you become a vampire. You don't have to turn, you know. I think your evil side is sexy, but… you could just stay human, Kol.”

You pulled your face free from his hand. “I'm not giving up, Kol. You can't make me.”

Kol eyed you up and down with a half smile. He held out his wrist. “As you wish, love.”

You wrenched his hand to your mouth. You contemplated biting into the smooth skin, your teeth tearing it till they broke through - but felt acid rise up your throat. “I'll do it, Kol,” you warned, but your voice was shaking.

He rolled his eyes. “You won't, Kol. You'll stay little miss perfect human, and run off into the sunset with my brother.”

“I'm not as weak as you think,” you said.

“Vampires are dead, Kol. You can't handle that,” Kol replied.

You felt a flash of anger. Kol was talking to you like you were a child, like you hadn't been through hell and back. “I watched my parents die, Kol! I know the cost of death. You can talk to me like a child, you can set me as many ridiculous challenges as you want, but you can't stop me from protecting the people I love.”

Fuelled by your rage, you held your breath and bit down on Kol's wrist as hard as you could. You heard him let out a sharp curse. You were overwhelmed with the saltiness of his skin on your tongue, then, finally, the metallic ring of blood. Fighting the urge to close your throat, you sucked down as much blood as you could handle.

Kol moved over you in a blur. He smoothed your hair out of your face and ran his eyes anxiously over your face. “Are you okay? I didn't think you would -”

“Water,” you croaked.

Kol brought you some, and you sipped it cautiously. Finally, you said, “I'm fine, Kol. Chill.”

Kol sat, his eyes wide. “You're doing this. You're going to be a vampire.” He rubbed his wrist, staring at it intently.

“Got a problem with that?” you teased.

Kol slowly raised his eyes to meet yours. “I think I underestimated you, Y/n. God, you'll make a hot immortal.”

_

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[writememysticfalls]

Devoted | Stefan Salvatore

Summary: As a boyfriend, Stefan is devoted. As an ex, he's obsessive. Even devotion has a dark side.

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x Reader

Genre: Suggestive, Stalker!Stefan

Word count: <1k

As you walked into the manor house, you felt uneasy. Since you had chosen Damon, you'd heard nothing from Stefan - till he asked to meet you here.

“Stefan?” you called, stopping at the foot of a huge dark wood staircase.

Something flashed behind you, brushing the hairs on the back of your neck. Your heart stuttered.

A book suddenly clattered to the floor on the bookshelf beside you, just missing your head.

“Stefan!” you called, your voice breaking.

You felt Stefan’s strong, warm arms wrap around you from behind.

“Thank god,” you said, pressing your chin into his arm. “I thought someone was in here.”

“It's okay,” Stefan said, his voice throaty. “Stefan’s got you. He won't let anyone hurt you.”

“Aww,” you said, surprised at how well Stefan was taking the breakup.

“If anyone tries to touch my girlfriend, they're dead,” he murmured.

You frowned. “Stefan… I'm still with Damon. I thought you knew that.”

His arm wasn't just a support - it was a cage. You tried to prise it off, but you were stunned by its strength.

Stefan whispered in your ear, “Yeah… About that. I changed my mind. You're not Damon’s anymore. You're mine.”

You recognised that voice - dry, ironic, lifeless. Stefan had turned his humanity off.

You spun around, glaring up at Stefan’s eyes. Just as you'd expected, they were two lifeless rings of black.

“I don't belong to anyone,” you said through gritted teeth. You pushed Stefan’s arm, and he suddenly let you go.

You ran up the stairs, knowing it was stupid, but knowing with every muscle in your body that you had to get away from Stefan. You felt him watching you, perfectly calm. You reached the top of the stairs.

Suddenly, he was in front of you. You teetered on the top step, almost losing your balance.

Stefan just stood there, arms crossed.

“Stefan!” you called.

He put one large hand on your back, stopping you at the last second. Your heart raced.

He weaved both hands in your hair. “I've had enough of hearing you moan my brother’s name every night,” he said. “That's what I want to hear from now on.”

You pulled his hands off. “How can you talk like that? You… loved me once.”

“Right?” Stefan said, gesturing with one bejewelled hand. “My life used to be all ‘What does Elena want?’ ‘What does she feel?” He shook his head. “It was exhausting. Things are so easy now. I want you, so I'll have you.”

He took one step down.

Then another.

You were forced to step backwards, your back arching.

You gripped the banister. “I know you, Stefan. Somewhere in there, you're still the man I loved. You don't want to do this.”

Stefan stepped down again, his arms crossed. He placed each foot carefully, like this was a brilliant dance.

You had no idea how many steps were left till you hit the floor. You didn't dare to look back.

Stefan leaned forwards, opening his eyes wide. “Take a look,” he said. “No, really. Do you see the faintest hint that I care what you think?”

Your heart sank. His shark eyes contained only one emotion: hunger.

“You won't get away with this,” you breathed, your eyes stinging with tears.

Stefan took another step, his lips hardening into a smile.

Your foot sank, searching for another step, but there were no steps left. You tripped, hesitating for a second.

As Stefan catched you, his breath was hot in your ear. “Oh, Y/n. I think I already have.”

_

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[writememysticfalls]

Love Sick | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: Klaus treats you like trash, but you keep falling into his bed. One night, Elijah confronts you about it.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Genre: Suggestive, Angsty

Word count: <1k

You staggered out of Klaus's room at 3AM, sobbing. You dragged the sleeve of your party dress over your eyes. Blood was sticky on your neck.

Klaus's bedroom door opened, and a bundle of your clothes was thrown out.

You grabbed them, and walked to the door.

In the dark, you didn't notice that a figure was leaning against the door, stopping you from leaving.

You flicked on the light, and gasped.

Elijah was standing there, staring at you.

“Get out of my way,” you sniffed.

Elijah frowned, his thumb flicking a tear off your jaw. “What did that bastard do to you?”

“None of your business,” you said, reaching for the doorhandle.

Rolling his eyes, Elijah took off his jacket and thrust it at you. “Take this, at least.”

You were going to refuse, but then a shiver ran through you. You grabbed the jacket. It smelled like Elijah - perfumed, yet earthy.

As you opened the door, you could feel his dark eyes on you, on the holes in your ripped dress.

You turned. “You have no right to look at me like that. You live with Klaus!”

Elijah scoffed. “And I've learnt to look the other way as he treats beautiful women like animals. But not you, Y/n. You… can do better than him.”

“Oh yeah?” you said. “And you could give me so much more than Klaus?” You grabbed his collar, bringing your face right up to his. “Save it,” you whispered. “You men are all the same.”

You let him go, roughly. Elijah rubbed his neck, his eyes on you.

You met Elijah's eye. “At least, before Klaus treats me like crap, he gives me a nice good fuck.”

Elijah's lips fell open.

You liked how shocked he looked, how hurt. You were sick of Elijah pitying you. Well, you'd won this time.

To your surprise, he didn't leave. He stepped towards you.

His eyes never leaving yours, he knelt and kissed your hand. You shivered for a whole new reason.

“It is sad to see that little has changed since I was a young man,” he said. “Great women still believe they have to let men push them around to find pleasure.”

“And you wouldn't push me around?” you said.

“Oh, Y/n,” he murmured, dragging his soft lips along your wrist, up your arm, to place a wet kiss in the hollow beneath your collarbone. “I would do you like a gentleman.”

Your nostrils flared. “Yeah, right.”

Elijah lifted you by the waist, and somehow, you knew to wrap your legs around him.

He spun you around, slowly. You let your head fall back, your hair cascading. In his arms, you felt above everything, above Klaus.

“Y/n,” he said in your ear, “I would never send you away at the break of dawn. I would wake you in the morning with a hundred kisses.”

He kissed an invisible trail along each of your collarbones, then finally, in the gap between.

It was a totally different feeling to being with Klaus. You were used to excitement, a little fear - but not this. Not this melting.

Elijah let you down, slowly. His hands moved down your body, lightly grazing each scratch and cut on your skin. “I would never make you call out in pain.” His eyes narrowed naughtily. “Only in pleasure.”

Suddenly, his face was deadly serious. His fingers felt cold as he wiped away your tears. He spoke through gritted teeth. “And this I promise you, Y/n. I will never make you cry.”

You narrowed your eyes at Elijah, thrusting your chin up at him. “Things have changed a little since you were you were young. You might be a gentleman, but I'm no lady.”

Eliijah smiled, watching you intently. “Then I suppose you’ll have to teach me how to pleasure the modern woman."

You smiled, interlacing your fingers with his. “Challenge accepted.”

_

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[writememysticfalls]

Devour Me | Damon Salvatore

Summary: You're craving Damon... but you're marrying his brother.

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Reader

Genre: Suggestive, Angsty

Word count: <1k

It was 11:30pm. You knocked on the door of Damon’s apartment, shivering from the night rain.

You gasped when you saw Damon. There were dark shadows under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't moved in days.

“May I come in?” you said, trying to lighten the mood with some vampire humour.

Damon stared into his whiskey glass. “If I say no, will that stop you?” he said.

“No,” you said, grinning and stepping inside. “You still haven't said if you'll be Stefan’s best man at the wedding. It's next week, you know.”

“I've been busy,” Damon said.

“Stefan really wants you there.”

Damon looked at you. “Really? Then why didn't he come and ask me himself?”

“He cares about you, Damon,” you pleaded. “He’s just worried you'll say no.”

“Three observations: it's nearly midnight, you clearly walked here, and Stefan has never asked me to be his best man. Therefore, I can deduce that you're asking me to do this stupid thing. Trust me, Stefan doesn't want me as his best man.” Damon downed his drink and got up. “Now get out.”

You crossed your arms. “I mean it, Damon. I'm not leaving till you agree to this.”

In a flash, Damon’s face darkened, and he slammed his glass down so hard it cracked. “What the hell do you want me to say, Y/n? I’m happy you're marrying my brother? Congratulations. The damn gravy boat I bought you got lost in the mail.”

Damon put one hand on your shoulder and pushed you out of his apartment so fast you got a head rush.

He walked back inside and sat down. “The worst part is, Y/n, you don't even have the guts to say that you want me there. So get out.”

You stood there in silence, fighting the tears that pooled in your eyes. You had lied to Stefan to be here, telling him you were visiting Bonnie. You had run in the rain, shivering, just to ask this one question. And now, all your effort was going to be wasted.

“I would-” you tried to say. “Stefan would regret it for the rest of his life if you weren't there.”

Tears fell silently down your face.

“Not good enough,” Damon said.

Finally, after a long pause, you said. “Fine, Damon. I need you at my wedding because… I need everyone I love to be there.”

Damon moved towards you so fast his body was a blur. He stood inches away from you, his pale eyes searing into yours. His hands slid instinctively up your hips to rest on your waist. He bowed his head, his forehead almost touching yours. His eyes fell half shut as he inhaled your scent.

“Damon…” you said quietly.

“Shh,” Damon whispered. “Don't ruin it.”

You knew that you should push Damon off, but you didn't. You told yourself you were just letting him live out his fantasy - but the truth was, you didn't want to disturb the moment either.

“You… love me,” Damon said, biting his lip and continuing to gaze at you.

His hand flashed up to your face, and he traced an invisible line over your eyelids, your cheekbones, and finally your lips. His unfamiliar touch was almost painful, like being stung.

He leaned in, like he was going to kiss you. You took a step back.

“Just… give me this moment,” Damon said quietly.

You nodded, your heart pounding. You took a step towards him.

Finally, Damon brought his lips to yours. His mouth met yours infinitely slowly, his lips moulding against yours like he was etching this kiss in his memory. You were slightly ashamed to find that you kissing him. His scent, alcohol mixed with the faint floral smell of vervain, was different to Stefan’s. His long body was hard and stubborn to the touch, like it was made of stone. And yet, the way his hands moved over you was skilful, liquid.

You were ashamed to realise that you were the one gripping his back to pull him closer. You would have to carry the secret of this kiss to your grave.

After the longest few seconds of your life, Damon stepped back, grinning at you.

“Someone's looking cheerful,” you said, rolling your eyes like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

“I'll be your stupid best man,” he said, trying to look annoyed despite the smile that lingered on his face.

You stepped back outside the door. “Thank you, Damon,” you said.

Damon frowned, leaning on the doorframe. His voice made it sound like he was telling a joke, but his eyes were serious. “Oh Elena… I think you're more dangerous than Katherine. I think you're the most dangerous woman I've ever met.”

_

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[writememysticfalls]

Predator (Part 2) | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: You're trapped in a room with a hallucinating Elijah. The problem? You look just like Tatia - the woman he loved, and murdered.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Petrova doppelganger!reader

Genre: Suggestive, angst

Word count: <1k

Part 1 | Part 2 ⭐️

When Elijah woke up again, his face hadn't changed, and yet he looked a thousand years younger. Like a teenager.

You were expecting Elijah to look cruel or predatory, but he looked… innocent. Like he couldn't hurt an ant.

He fiddled with his daylight ring. “Why do you ignore me, Tatia?” he said.

You crouched. It was impossible to fear this innocent boy. “I haven't ignored you, Elijah,” you said, playing along.

Elijah pulled you to him, and suddenly, his head was resting in your lap.

You were amazed. You couldn't believe a thousand-year old-vampire in a Ralph Lauren suit was lying dreamily on your thighs right now.

You toyed with his hair, and, to your shock, Elijah blushed.

As you touched him, you were hit by another vision.

-

Elijah, lying on Tatia’s lap on a riverbank. She was plaiting daisies in his long hair, giggling as she tried to make him look as girly as possible.

Elijah frowned. “Did you kiss my brother Klaus to make me jealous? Or because you really love him?

“What would you prefer?” Tatia asked.

“To make me jealous,” he said. “Because that means your heart is mine.”

“Then… I did it just for you, Elijah,” Tatia said, laughing.

She bent down and kissed his lips the wrong way around, a quick sweet imprint.

-

The vision suddenly changed.

-

Tatia, in the woods.

Elijah, now a vampire, standing before her. His boyish body had hardened into something dangerous. Predatory.

Yet, in his glistening eyes, there was still love.

-

“Run away, Tatia,” Elijah said. His back was pressed against his bedroom wall. His shirt stuck to his body with sweat. “Now. Before… I lose myself to my thirst.”

You followed his gaze on your body. At first, it had seemed that he was staring at your chest, as men often did. Then, you realised he was watching your neck.

You swept your hair over your throat.

Elijah shook his head sadly, and yet, you realised, with animal pleasure. “Oh, Tia,” he murmured. “As if that would make any difference.”

Elijah took a step towards you. “Your scent, little kitten, is mouth-watering,” he murmured. “Did you always smell so tasty?”

You spun around, and started rattling the door handle.

“Help!” you screamed, your voice breaking. “Somebody!”

You felt Elijah appear right behind you.

You became very still. Your hand slid down and fell limply by your side.

In the little mirror by the door, you saw Elijah’s eyes turn red. He took off his jacket, and began rolling up the sleeves of his rich cream shirt.

You knew you had seconds to act. Seconds before it was too late.

You kicked the door as hard as you could. You grabbed a shard of wood in her fist, and turned to face Elijah.

For a moment, realisation flashed in Elijah’s eyes. A tear slipped down his cheek.

“Y/n,” he breathed. “I tried to resist,” he said. “I want you to remember that I tried to resist.”

You lifted the stake, and Elijah gave you a tiny nod.

Then, his face twisting into an an inhuman snarl, he pounced.

And you plunged the stake deep into his heart.

--THREE DAYS LATER--

You were brushing your hair before bed when you felt Elijah appear behind you.

Adrenaline pumped through you at his presence. You forced yourself to put the hairbrush down and face him.

“I cannot express my sorrow at what I did,” Elijah said.

“It wasn't your fault,” you said. In reality, you were shaking with anger. You knew you would never be comfortable around Elijah again.

“My only defence,” he said, his eyes narrowing in kindness, “is that the Petrova doppelganger is powerful magic. Even now, you have Tatia’s rosy cheeks,” his eyes caressed her face, “Katarina’s… charm,” his eyes lingering on her body, “and something completely new.” He smiled. “You have the courage to take on an Original - and win.”

Elijah reached into his inside jacket pocket, and pulled out a sparkling pearl necklace. “An apology gift. You see, to the human eye, all pearls appear identical. But to our kind, each one is unique. Just something to think about.”

He moved forward, like he was going to put the necklace around your neck, then stopped. He laid the necklace gently on the table.

He knelt, and kissed your hand. “It was a pleasure being defeated by you, Y/n,” he said.

Then, with a gust of cold air, he was gone.

—

Read Part 1 Here...

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[writememysticfalls]

Misbehaving | Kol Mikaelson

Summary: Klaus catches you and Kol in an... awkward position. Can you hide Kol in time?

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Genre: Suggestive, Naked!Kol

Word count: <1k

Klaus hissed, and dropped the strange object. Then, he used a pencil to lift it up again.

It was a pair of men's underwear. Black boxers, in fact.

“Little human?” he called, laughing. "Am I interrupting something?"

You stepped out of the bathroom, carefully clicking the door shut. Your cheeks were flushed, your usually perfect brown curls a mess.

“Hey, Klaus,” you said, leaning on the door. “What's, um, hanging?”

Klaus waved the boxers around like a flag. “These, I'm afraid.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh my god! Those… are mine.”

“Really?” Klaus said, getting up. “Then you wouldn't mind touching them - seeing as they're yours.”

“Of course,” you said, gingerly reaching out for them. Your hand froze, an inch away. You screwed your eyes shut.

Just then, the bathroom door flew open, pushing you off.

Kol appeared, shirtless, his hair a bird’s nest. Strange runes were drawn all over his face in lipstick. “Have you seen my pants, love? It's getting a bit chilly, if you know what I mean.”

He flashed Klaus a grin. “Hiya, big brother.”

Klaus lifted the underwear, a bemused smile spreading over his face. “So… should I go in there and deliver these, or is dear Kol coming out?”

“Aha!” Kol said. Pushing the door open, he sauntered out, butt naked. He stretched out his arm for the underwear.

You were momentarily silenced by the smooth ripples of his chest, and the trail of pale hair leading downwards.

Then you shielded Kol’s body with yours, muttering things about ‘insane’ and ‘nobody wants to see that’.

Kol whisked the pants away from Klaus, winking.

“Don't mind if I do.”

—

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[writememysticfalls]

Predator (Part 1) | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: You're trapped in a room with Elijah. He's hallucinating. And you look exactly like the women he loved... and murdered.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Petrova doppelganger!reader

Genre: Suggestive, angst

Word count: <1k

Part 1 ⭐️ | Part 2

“Tighter,” Elijah ordered.

“Why?” you grunted. “These ties won't hold you.”

Elijah looked bad. His blue shirt was soaked with sweat, so it clung to the planes of his chest. You tied his wrists to his mahogany bedposts.

You were trapped in Elijah’s bedroom while he recovered from a wolf bite. You looked identical to Katherine - the woman Elijah most desired.

“The werewolf venom will make me a slave to my impulses. A monster,” Elijah said. He smirked. “And I have a… weakness for brunettes. So, we must do what we can.”

You crouched, every muscle tensed, till he woke.

“Naughty girl…” Elijah said, smiling crookedly at you. “Remove these ridiculous ties.”

“No,” you said, your heart in your throat.

“Daddy's tired of waiting,” he said, pouting. “He wants to play.”

Elijah removed the ties with a flick of his wrists. He walked towards you, one finger trailing on the bed.

“Hmm… how to punish you for restraining me?” he mused. “A spanking? No, that's not quite enough.”

His hand grazed your butt. “I have not found another little bottom like this in a thousand years…” he swept the hair from your neck, “but you deserve a nastier punishment tonight, Katarina.”

As he touched you, you were hit by a vision.

-

Katherine, dancing away down a dark wooden hallway, her curls bouncing.

Suddenly, Elijah appeared in front of her. He lifted her in his arms with a roar. Broken iron handkerchiefs dangled from his wrists.

“Got you!” he said.

“No fair,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I told you… ” she kissed his cheek, “to beg me…” a kiss on his nose, “until I felt like setting you free. You always cheat.”

Elijah attached his mouth to her throat. Katherine let her head fall back, her eyelids fluttering closed.

Then, Elijah gave her one sharp bite to her neck, making her gasp.

“Oh Katya,” he said, his eyes narrowing to drunken slits. “You were the one who taught me how to play dirty.”

-

When you regained consciousness, Elijah’s lips were on your neck.

Slowly, he sucked the skin of your throat. Tiny fireworks of sensation ran over your skin. His mouth felt unbelievably gentle - not like the jaws of a predator hovering by your carotid artery.

You knew what came next. The bite.

“Elijah,” you breathed, scared to even move.

“Kati,” he mumured.

“I'm not her,” you said. “Smell me! I'm human!”

Elijah froze. He moved away from you at lightning speed, so his back was against his bedroom wall. His perfect hair was a mess, and your lip gloss was smeared over his face.

“I am deeply sorry,” he said. “I… am ashamed of myself.”

“It's okay,” you replied, breathing normally again. “You didn't hurt me. We got through it.”

Elijah whipped out a silk handkerchief and dabbed his face meticulously. He eased himself onto the floor, resting his head on the wall in exhaustion.

"I'm afraid this is only the beginning," Elijah said. "The woman you most resemble... is Tatia."

“Elijah,” you said. “What happened to Tatia?”

But he gave no reply.

You felt your heart begin to speed. “Elijah? She died, didn't she?”

But somehow, you instinctively knew the answer. Elijah had killed Tatia - and he was about to try and do the same to you.

Read Part 2 Here!

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[writememysticfalls]

Bare | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: You're marrying Klaus today. But when Elijah walks in on you naked, everything changes.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Genre: Suggestive, angst

Word count: <1k

“Don’t look!” you called, struggling to zip up your wedding dress. “I’m naked. Plus, it's bad luck.”

“You tease…” a voice said. “You're hardly naked.”

You looked in the mirror, and saw Elijah, smiling naughtily. His eyes glittered as he looked at you. Though you were marrying Klaus today, your heart fluttered.

“Elijah,” you said, sweeping your hair off your back. “Can you help me with this?”

His gaze was glued to your exposed skin. His eyes traced down your shoulder blades… your back… the black lace of your underwear.

You stopped breathing.

Elijah swallowed, looking at his cuffs. “I should find someone else to assist you. Rebekah, perhaps.”

“No,” you said. “You do it. She can’t see me like this.”

“Why not?” Elijah said, his breath making the back of your neck tingle. “Does a girl not feel prettiest on her wedding day?”

“Look at me, Elijah,” you said. “I’m seven months pregnant, I look like a water buffalo, and I can’t stop crying. I’m a mess!”

Elijah’s eyes darkened, almost angrily. His mouth came to your ear. “If you cannot see that you are the most delicious woman on earth… you are a fool.”

Elijah’s long fingers ghosted your back, searching for the zipper. You almost moaned at his touch.

You loved your fiance Klaus. He was devoted to your baby, attending every ultrasound, every birthing class. He was also a fierce lover. He wrapped you in his powerful arms every night, like he was terrified of losing you.

But recently, his touch made you feel nothing. When Klaus held you, it was like you were made of plastic - whereas one look from Elijah made you feel naked.

“I’m… so… scared,” you said, shaking. “I’m scared that I don’t love him enough. What if marrying Klaus is a mistake?”

A tear slipped down your cheek.

Instead of comforting you, Elijah looked furious.

He turned you to face him. His hands squeezed both sides of your face. His thumbs scraped away your tears, rough enough to make the skin red.

His voice was barely a whisper. “Are you suggesting… you chose to be with Niklaus for seven months… only to complain on the wedding day that you do not love him?”

You frowned. “I’m just telling you how I feel-”

His grip was so tight it would have hurt a more fragile person. “Are you suggesting I waited all this time, thinking you truly loved my brother, when-”

“When what, Elijah?” you said, feeling suddenly angry. “What were you waiting for?”

He pulled your face to him, holding the weight of your body in his two hands. You were forced to stand on your tiptoes. “I was waiting to tell you that I, not Niklaus, that I…”

Elijah’s tongue flashed over his lips.

For one crazy moment, you thought he might kiss you.

“That you what?” you whispered.

“That I wanted you as my-”

Elijah froze, his eyes darting to the door.

Klaus was standing there, one hand covering his eyes, a smile filling up his face. He was holding a bouquet of white flowers.

“Y/n…” he called, tiptoeing into the room. “Now, I know it’s bad luck to see the bride, but I had to give you these.”

Elijah’s gaze was fixed on Klaus. Tears glistened in his eyes. He released you, straightening his cuffs.

You seized Elijah’s arm. He put a finger to his lips, telling you to be quiet. His eyes narrowing with gentleness, he stroked your cheek with two fingers. Then, he stepped away.

“Y/n?” Klaus called, blindly.

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't resist. You grabbed Elijah’s shoulders and squeezed your lips to his in one desperate kiss. Though Elijah stayed frozen, his lips were soft and willing against yours.

You stepped back, trying to control your breathing.

Then, you walked up and took the flowers from Klaus. “Thank you,” you said. Klaus tried to lace his fingers with yours, and you let him.

Still panting, you looked up to find Elijah, but he had vanished.

“Love…” Klaus said, his voice gentle. “Are you ready to become Mrs Mikaelson?”

You stared at the empty spot where Elijah had been.

You smoothed down your dress. “I was born ready.”

​—

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[writememysticfalls]

Nice Kitty | Kol Mikaelson

Summary: Kol stared up at you from the floor. His chest gleamed with sweat. “Nice kitty,” he whispered.

You and Kol are dirty rivals. A spell gives you total control over his body, so you decide to teach him a lesson.

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x witch!reader

Genre: Suggestive, Enemies to lovers

Word count: >1k

“Morning, princess,” Kol said, sliding into the cabin’s tiny kitchen.

He rested his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

Kol was naked - apart from a towel draped low on his hips. He shook out his brown curls, spraying you with water.

“You're in a good mood,” you said, eyes fixed on your book.

“Yep,” Kol said. “Because that nasty spell you tried on me last night didn't work.” He booped your nose. “Maybe little Y/n’s not ready for big boy magic.”

“How do you know the spell didn't work?” you said, smirking.

You reached behind your back, and pulled out a human heart - Kol’s heart.

“What have you done to me?” Kol panted, clutching his empty chest.

You smirked. “I stole your heart. I control you now.”

You lifted the heart.

“I am sick of you calling me princess… ” you said, squeezing the heart, so Kol groaned, “and little girl…” he sank down the wall “and mamacita, which is just yuck.” Kol fell to his knees.

Kol stared up at you from the floor. He was panting like a dog, mouth open, his chest gleaming with sweat. “Nice kitty,” he whispered.

You grabbed his hair in your fist.

“If you want your heart back…” you said, twisting his hair, “you'll have to beg.”

Kol narrowed his eyes. “Never. I've been tortured before, love.”

You pulled his hair harder, till his eyes welled up in pain.

“Can I-” Kol stuttered. “Please can I have my heart back?”

You giggled, releasing him.“I'm not giving you your heart back, dumbo. I’m going tell Klaus to give me the white oak stake, or I'll crush the heart and kill you.”

You booped Kol on the nose. “But I couldn't resist. You look so pretty on your knees.”

You and Kol marched through the woods, on the way to meet Klaus.

“I get it. I'm your slave,” Kol said. “But is the outfit really necessary?”

Kol was wearing a pink tutu, a pink fluffy tiara that said “FAIRY PRINCESS”, and a matching pink wand.

“No,” you said, skipping along, holding Kol’s heart. “But you look so cute!”

Kol had had enough. He reached out to snatch the heart from you.

You refused to let go. You and Kol fell to the ground. You rolled over each other in the dirt.

“Get - off!” you shrieked. Kol’s heavy body pinned you to the ground. His hot breath tickled your face.

“Vasmatos-” you tried to say, but Kol pressed his hand over your mouth, stopping you.

You and Kol both squeezed the heart at once.

And you got the weirdest feeling.

It was like being drunk on champagne. Everything turned hazy, golden. The world felt like one hilarious joke.

You suddenly felt that you didn't want to hurt Kol. You wanted to… kiss him.

Kol looked down at you like he was thinking the same thing.

Kol pulled his hand off your mouth, and flicked your plump lips with his thumb.

“That feels funny,” you giggled. “Good funny.”

“Yeah?” Kol said softly.

Kol stuck his tongue out, and licked your pink lips. You started laughing hysterically.

You pushed Kol down onto the soft forest floor, so your body was above his.

“Ha ha,” Kol said. “Upsy daisy.”

He bit the soft skin under your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine.

You noticed Kol’s heart, discarded on the floor. You had a vague feeling that the heart was important. But that felt so distant… and Kol’s mouth was so close…

You reached out, and dug you fingers into the heart.

You and Kol were struck by a vision.

-

A teenage Kol, stretched out on his bed, asleep. The twisted sheet left little of his sun-kissed back to the imagination.

“Taya…” Kol mumbled.

He bit down on his pillow. His breaths sped up.“Taya...”

A woman appeared at the doorway, clearing her throat.

Kol scrambled to a sitting position. The sheet slipped onto the floor.

“I’m awake,” he said thickly, his muscled arms wrapped around his knees. He blushed, and red exploded over his chest and legs.

“You're late for your morning lesson,” she said, faintly smiling. “And… I’m not ‘Taya’. I'm Miss Taya, to you.”

-

“Who’s Taya?” you said, walking behind Kol as he stormed through the forest. You were carrying Kol’s heart in your bag, to avoid touching it.

Kol’s face was a painful red. “You. You got inside my head!”

You said, “Technically, I got inside your heart-”

“Shut up!” he said. “Please… don't do that again.”

Kol was trembling with shame and anger. Your brown eyes had seen deeper into his soul, into his memories, than any girlfriend’s ever had. And it terrified him.

“It's not like I enjoyed that,” you said. “The freaky magic of the heart made me… like you for a second.” You shivered.

Kol realised that they had almost arrived at the Mikaelson house. His time was running out.

“Okay,” Kol said, stopping in his tracks. “You've won. You've humiliated me.” He grabbed the tutu in one hand, and danced around in a circle, waving the wand with the other. His face fell. “Just please don't give me to Klaus.”

You stared hard at Kol. “Why are you so afraid of Klaus?”

Kol scratched the back of his head. “I can't tell you. Just trust me.”

“If you want me to help you, I need the truth,” you said.

Kol looked down. “I've never told anyone this. I don't know how.”

You waited.

Finally, Kol pulled out his heart, and dug his nails in. Both you and Kol both struck by another vision.

-

Teenage Kol, peeking through a cottage doorway.

He was clutching a thorny rose, and his brown, muscled forearms were covered in scratches.

His eyes grew wide.

In the dark room, Taya was gripping the wall, her long hair flowing over her naked body. She was breathing hard.

A naked man grabbed her body from behind, his hands on her waist.

The man’s laughing blue eyes met Kol’s for a second.

It was Klaus.

The rose crumbled in Kol’s fist.

-

You gasped lightly. “That was Taya, your teacher. The one you had a crush on. Klaus was…”

“Klaus was fucking her,” Kol said darkly. He sat on the forest floor, crushing a pebble in his fist.“A few months after that, she disappeared, like all of Klaus’s girlfriends. The bastard killed her.”

You held Kol’s hand. “I'm so sorry,” you said, gazing up at him. “You loved her.”

“I think I did,” Kol said. “You know, before Taya died, I was a nice guy. Worthy of a good girl like you,” he said, smirking. “But that night, I decided to stop loving people so easily. Trusting them.” He thumped his chest. “Enter Kol Mikaelson, world-class arsehole.”

“You're not an-” you started. You smiled. “Okay, you are an asshole. But you're not… a bad person.”

Kol placed your hand on his cheek. His chestnut eyes held yours. “You're not like me, Davina. You're good; you're beautiful. And Klaus hates things which are good and beautiful. You can't make a deal with him. He’ll destroy you.”

You stepped away from him.

“I'm sorry, Kol,” you said quietly, tears welling in your eyes. “I really liked you.”

Then, your face hardened into a mask of fury.

“Klaus Mikaelson!” you yelled, running towards the Mikaelson house. “I have your little brother’s heart. Give me the white oak stake or he'll be dead by the time I count to ten…”

Kol pounded a tree trunk with his fist in anger, again and again, until the wood crumbled under his fingers.

He had trusted you. He had let you in. And you had used him.

Kol was lying in his bed in the Mikaelson house that night, when he heard a quiet “Ow.”

How was he such a trusting idiot, despite being hurt a thousand times?

-

He laughed, sitting up. Your head was stuck halfway inside his bedroom window.

“Help me,” you said. “My hair’s stuck.”

“Hurts, doesn't it?” Kol said, massaging his head. “Having your hair nearly yanked off.”

“Let me in,” you repeated, your voice breaking. “I'm here to rescue you. And this hurts like a bitch.”

“Who taught you that word, little girl?” Kol said in mock horror. “Wash that pretty mouth of yours out with soap.”

But he gently untangled your hair and gave you his hand to climb inside.

You sat down on the bed. Kol flung himself into an armchair in the corner of his room, his bejewelled finger tapping the arm. His head lolled back on the seat.

“Where did you get that pose from? GQ?” you said, laughing into your hand.

Kol got up and sat quietly down next to you, his ears burning. “Shouldn't you be more sorry or something?” he said. “You did try to sell my body today.”

You looked down. “I am sorry. I was going to leave you with Klaus, but then I thought about your story, and… I felt bad.”

Kol lightly brushed your hair behind your ear. “Is that the only reason you came back, then? You felt guilty?”

You met Kol’s eyes. You looked perfectly serious in the way only young people can. “No. I felt… a lot of things.” You looked down. “But I can't like you that way, Kol. When I like boys that way, people get hurt.”

“I know,” Kol said. “That tends to happen to the people I like, too.” His hand nudged yours on the bed, so your little fingers were touching. “I do have a knack for falling for the wrong people, don't I?”

You scoffed. “Are you talking about Taya right now? Because I really don't think bringing up your-”

Kol silenced you with a kiss. He was surprised at how good a kisser you were. Your body melted against his without shyness. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders, pulling him closer. For a second, he was jealous of the boys who had kissed you before him.

“You're a good kisser. Should I be worried?” Kol said. He twirled a strand of your hair around his finger, possessively.

“You're a bad kisser. Should I be worried?” you said.

“Hey!” Kol said. “I have a thousand years’ experience…princess.”

“Yeesh,” you said. “You must not have done a lot of kissing in the last thousand years.”

Kol laughed. This was probably a bad decision, but it didn't feel that way.

It felt like hope.

​—

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Tease | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: You have sizzling chemistry, but Elijah refuses to make the first move. So you do.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Vampire reader

Genre: Suggestive, Strict!Elijah

Word count: <1k

"I can't do this anymore," you said. Your body trembled from exhaustion.

You felt Elijah's cool black eyes look you up and down.

It was boiling hot in the tiny music room. Elijah had been teaching you violin for the last twelve hours.

You put your violin down. “Go find some other vampire to micromanage."

Elijah stood watching you, arms crossed. Then, he swept your hair back, his fingers grazing your neck.

Your heart thudded. Elijah had always treated you as his talented protege… but you wanted more.

“Stay,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips.

You huffed.

Elijah pulled you close to him, and put one finger under your chin. “I’ll let you do the teaching. How about that?”

You broke out in a smile. “Okay… But my first note is - to take this violin away from you!”

You snatched his violin and moved at vampire speed to the corner of the room.

Elijah followed you with amazed eyes.

“You can’t touch this poor instrument,” you said, clutching the violin to your chest. “Your playing is too neat and clean. It's an insult to jazz!”

Elijah raised an eyebrow, and you wondered if you'd really offended him.

He walked slowly towards you, one hand in his pocket.

“Darling,” he said quietly. “Give that back.”

You shook your head.

He narrowed his eyes, then sprang at you like a lion. You gasped, as he lifted your whole body in one arm and took the violin in the other. Music stands crashed onto the floor.

“How dare you insult my playing,” he said, carefully pronouncing each word against your ear. You shivered.

“I had to,” you said. You looked up into his eyes. “You’ll never be good at jazz until you learn how to lose control.”

You regained your footing. You put one hand on Elijah’s chest and pushed him backwards. Elijah's eyes stared deep into yours, utterly trusting, as he walked backwards.

You pushed him down, so he was sitting on the piano stool, his head falling against the keys with a loud clang.

“Somebody will hear,” he said, his eyes flashing to the door.

You raised an eyebrow. “Like I said. You can’t control everything.”

Your fingers toyed with the top button of his shirt. Elijah nodded slightly, and you opened it.

You slid your fingers over his warm chest. You could feel the thud of his heart.

You leaned in and kissed him deeply. You felt Elijah's chest swell as he breathed you in. You kissed with the excitement of weeks of anticipation, notes scrawled on sheet music that said things like 'savour it' and 'climax'.

Just as you were settling into the kiss, Elijah turned your bodies around, so he was on top, and you were pressed against the piano.

“Elijah!” you said, panting. “Where did that come from?”

Elijah sucked the soft underside of your jaw, his eyes slipping shut.

"Hmm... what's the word?" he said. "I was improvising."

​—

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[writememysticfalls]

Bath Time | Damon Salvatore

Summary: Why was there a very wet, very naked Damon Salvatore in your bathtub? And how were you going to sneak him out?

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x reader

Genre: Suggestive, Angst

Word count: <1k

“You're so hot,” your date murmured, leaning in to kiss you on your bed. This was your first date since your boyfriend Damon died six months ago.

“I need to shower,” you said. “Before we… get down to it.”

You locked yourself in the bathroom. "I don't even like him, Damon…” you whispered, kissing Damon’s daylight ring. "But I have to move on.”

Just then, you realised the bath was full of hot water. Freaky - you had no memory of filling it.

You stripped, sank into the bath and shut your eyes.

Then, you got the strangest feeling.

It felt like Damon was in the bath with you.

You could feel his hard chest under your back. You could feel his fingers playing up your arm.

It was like those Sunday afternoon baths you would take with Damon, giggling when he soaped your chest a little too much.

You gasped as you felt a cool kiss on the side of your neck. Damon had been obsessed with your neck, attacking it till the skin was sore.

“Are you okay?” Rohan, your date, called.

“Ten minutes!” you yelled back.

Were you going crazy? If you were, you didn't care. This was the closest you'd felt to Damon in months.

You shifted in the tub, and you imagined Damon grasping the sides of the tub with his strong arms to steady you. You were used to hearing a clink as his daylight ring tapped the side of the bathtub.

CLINK.

You heard the noise - just as if Damon was here. That was impossible.

Stepping out of the tub, you wrapped Damon’s black shirt around your soapy body. You looked in the bathroom mirror.

Your heart stopped.

Damon was standing behind you in your reflection.

Damon was in his black shirt, with three buttons open. His hair was that jet-black nightmare that no amount of gel could tame. And he was smiling like you were the only girl in the world.

You began to sob. You spun around, but Damon wasn't behind you - you could only see him in the mirror.

“Shh, don't cry!” Damon said. “I didn't come back to make you sad.”

“Are you real, or am I going crazy?” you said.

Damon made a silly thinking face. “I’m on the Other Side, so I'm definitely real. You might be crazy, though. You’ve eaten pancakes every morning for six months. That's not exactly normal.”

“Shut up,” you sobbed. “Why are you here?”

In the mirror, Damon’s hands ran down your waist… your butt… Then he squeezed your bare thighs naughtily.

“Reason 1. You look so hot in my shirt,” he said. “Reason 2 is because that man wants to have sex with my girlfriend. So, I need to shove his you-know-what in a meat grinder.”

Your hands flew to your mouth. “Damon!” you said. “You told me to move on…”

Damon groaned. “That's just something you say! I didn't actually mean it, you numbskull!” His lip curled. “Rohan is way too old for you. And did you see his car? It's a Fiat 500. My girlfriend is not riding in that clown buggy.”

You weren't sure if you should laugh or cry.

“That car gives small sausage energy,” he whispered into your ear.

You laughed “Whereas your Chevy gives…?”

“Immense wiener,” Damon said. “I'm talking the Empire State Building.”

You laughed, then felt sad again. “I don't even want to date again,” you said. “I sleep in your shirt every night. But I'm so lonely.” You sighed. “I wish I could touch you.”

Damon paused. Then, he said, “You can.”

Suddenly, you could feel his arms circling you, strong and real. You turned around, and saw Damon there, in the flesh.

You kissed him till you couldn't breathe. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he spun you around with a groan.

“I'm so sorry!” you said, touching your forehead to his. “I gave up on you in six months. I'm a terrible person.”

“I know I should be okay with you moving on,” Damon said. “But I'm a bad guy, Y/n. I want you all to myself.”

He pushed you into the hot bath. Then, he stepped into the water fully clothed, his body hovering over yours. Jewels of water hung off his dark eyelashes.

Damon’s hands grasped both sides of the tub, trapping you. “The bad guy in me…” he murmured, “wants to tell you to never touch another guy.” His arms were tensed. “I want to tell you to cry for me forever.”

Damon leaned back. “But I can't be a bad guy with you, Y/n. So, go do hanky panky with Rohan. Just don't enjoy it too much.”

“I'll get rid of Rohan,” you said. “But how are you touching me?” Your heart thumped. “I know how spells work, Damon. There's always a price.”

“Ahh…” Damon said. “You got me. The reason I can touch you is because I’m leaving the Other Side. In a few moments, I'll be gone forever.” He gestured at the ceiling. “Into the white wishy-woo. At peace.”

“No!” you said, digging your nails into his back. “Why would you do that?”

He kissed you, his lips moulding against yours again and again. You felt dizzy.

“Because kissing you is so worth it,” he said, his voice breaking off into a whisper.

He smirked. “Sorry about Rohan, by the way. I think I made him mad.”

And just like that, Damon disappeared.

You were alone in the cold bath. You got dressed and went into the bedroom.

“I can't do this,” you told Rohan.

He stood up. “I figured.”

That was when you realised what Damon had done to Rohan’s car. The car had three words keyed into it. “SMALL DICK BASTARD.”

You laughed all the way home.

Damon Salvatore, you thought. How am I ever getting over you?

​—

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[writememysticfalls]

Rough | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: Elijah is a rough teacher. Are you tough enough to handle his methods?

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Genre: Suggestive

Word count: <1k

“Y/n?” Elijah said. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, walking away from him.

You were a human recruit he was testing to become a vampire. You had just done some rough fighting practice.

You felt his large hand brush your hair off your shoulder.

You froze.

“My, my,” he whispered. “You're bleeding.”

“It's really fine,” you said, trying to squirm out of his grasp. His firm grip wouldn't let you.

“No,” he said. “I need to look at this. Take off your shirt.”

Your heart shot into overdrive. You were dying of embarrassment, but you decided to obey. You pulled your T-shirt over your head, shivering.

“Hold still,” he said, examining the back of your arm.

You jumped at his gentle touch on your skin.

“I said, hold still,” he said, through gritted teeth.

You heard a tearing noise, and watched him ripping the bottom of his shirt off. You eyed the muscular, hair-dusted planes of his stomach. Your throat was dry.

He bandaged your arm with his shirt, then held out his wrist for you to drink, which you did without meeting his eye.

Finally, you pulled away, relieved.

As he wiped the blood from his hands with a handkerchief, a strange smile played on Elijah’s lips.

“Y/n,” he said. “I want you to answer me honestly.”

You nodded, desperate to get back to the other recruits.

“Are you frightened of me?” he said.

You gulped. “I mean… a little?”

He threw back his head in a laugh. “But why, dear girl?”

“They say…” you said, “you pull people's hearts out.”

Elijah took his hand and placed it on your chest. “On occasion,” he said, staring deep into your eyes. “But never to the girls I like.” His lips narrowed into a smile. “Well, rarely.”

In a flash of courage, you clasped his hand and dragged it up, over your chest, to rest on your cheek. It was warm in the night air.

“See?” he said. “I don't bite. In fact, you can play with me like a doll.”

You laughed, and moved his hand to your lips, kissing it. He sighed in pleasure.

Suddenly, he whisked you into his arms, lifting your feet clean off the floor. You felt his whole body, his beating heart against you.

He hissed lightly in your ear, making you shiver.

“Are you afraid of me now?” he said.

“No,” you said. “You're not half as scary as you look.”

​—

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[writememysticfalls]

Red Door | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: You're sleeping with Elijah, but you're someone else's girl. Tonight, he's done playing nice. He wants you all to himself.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Genre: Suggestive, Red Door!Elijah

Word count: <1k

A/N: 🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN VAMPS! 🎃

“Elijah.”

A red door. The ache of thirst. The sweet taste of Tatia’s blood.

“Earth to Elijah… you there?”

Elijah realised he had been daydreaming.

He was resting one hand in his pocket, staring at his reflection in the black window. Red veins shrank back from his cheeks.

“Whatcha looking at?” you whispered. You shut the study door behind you.

“Merely enjoying the view,” he lied.

His thirst had been stronger lately. Overpowering. But he could resist those…temptations. He was an Original, wasn’t he?

Elijah sat on a chair and yanked off his tie.

“Sit,” he ordered.

You straddled him, stroking his tense shoulders. “Day three of my wedding saga…” you whispered. “We’re getting matching tattoos. I’m not kidding.”

Elijah didn’t reply. His mouth was already sucking your neck.

You hissed in pain. “Easy there, cowboy,” you said. “Anyway, he’s demanding I get his name tattooed-”

“Too… much… talking,” he murmured, nipping your throat.

You were used to Elijah’s hungry kisses. Your affair happened on cold brick walls and the backseats of cars. Time was always precious.

But tonight, Elijah was moving too fast. He forced your mouth open. He bit your lip, and you tasted blood.

“Easy on the face!” you said. “I am a bride, you know.”

Elijah’s eyes were flat. “Can we not discuss your joyous nuptials for one second?

“Elijah?” you said. “What’s wrong?”

“Just kiss me,” he said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

You put your hand over his. “I said, what’s wrong?”

Elijah seized your hand. His eyes turned blood red. For a second, you saw no trace of tenderness. He looked at you like an insect he wanted to crush.

“Elijah, you’re scaring me,” you said, your voice low.

He squeezed your hand tighter. Pain shot through it.

“Y/n L/n,” he said, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing his mouth. “I asked you to kiss me. Are you incapable of following one simple instruction?”

You scrambled off him.

Elijah took one step towards you, then another, forcing you to move away. Your back hit the wall.

“You insolent little girl,” he said, giving a chilling laugh. “I humour you too much. You have a total lack of discipline.”

You frowned. “Elijah, you’re the one person in my life who doesn't try to control me. That’s why I love you.”

“Oh, please,” he said. “You don’t love me. You’re using me. Swearing your heart to another man while your limbs tremble under my touch.”

You shoved him off. “Hey. I never forced you to do anything. If you want to take the moral high ground, there’s the door.”

Elijah grabbed your throat, making you gasp out in pain. “I am an Original vampire,” he hissed. “I could snap your throat in a second. Watch your tone.”

“You’re hurting me,” you croaked.

You couldn't believe how quickly Elijah had turned from the lover you knew to this heartless monster. It must have been lurking, just beneath the surface.

You stared into Elijah’s eyes, desperate for a scrap of sympathy. There was none.

Suddenly, he let you go.

He collapsed into a chair, resting his head in his hands.

You hurried to the door. Now you thought about it, you knew Elijah had been acting up the past few weeks. You should have done something, before it got to this.

“Wait,” Elijah begged, frozen in the chair.

You rested your hand on the doorframe. “No,” you said. “You crossed a line tonight, Elijah. I don’t care if you’re jealous of my fiance. You touch me one more time, and I swear-”

Elijah’s voice was quiet. “I have been hiding the truth from you, Y/n,” he said. “I told you that I had overcome my mother’s mental torture. I told you I had… closed the red door.” He looked up at you, and his eyes were red with tears. “I lied. I can no longer control the beast within me.”

You rubbed your eyes. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Elijah. I don’t feel safe around you anymore.”

Elijah panted for breath, his mouth open. “Please,” he said. “It was a moment of weakness. It will never happen again. I give you my word.”

“You can’t make that promise. You’re not well.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “What if next time… you can’t stop?”

He rubbed his face in his hands. “I promise I will overcome my mother's torture, because, Y/n, I love-”

“No,” you said. “Don’t say it.” You turned away from him, hiding your tears. “If you say those words, I won’t want to walk away from you. And I can't forgive what you did tonight.”

And before Elijah could reply, you were gone.

—

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[writememysticfalls]

Dirty Talk | Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: You teach Elijah a sexy new hobby - that puts him out of his comfort zone.

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Genre: Suggestive, Stern!Elijah

Word count: <1k

“Have you ever heard of dirty talk?” you said, snatching the spoon Elijah was using to stir the pasta, and licking it.

Elijah frowned, adjusting his two feet. “Dirty - talk?”

“Mm-hmm,” you said, resting your hands on the counter around him. “It’s a sex thing.”

Elijah’s voice was low in your ear. “You’ve whet my appetite. Tell me more.”

“Well, basically…” you said, looking up at him through your lashes. “You have to be mean to me.”

“Mean?” he murmured.

You nodded. “You could call me… a naughty girl.” Your hair shielded your face. “Or something worse.”

“Alright, then.” Elijah frowned, resting one hand in his pocket. He narrowed his eyes at you. “Y/n L/n, you are less than perfect.”

“Dirtier,” you said, tugging his tie.

“You are… profoundly lacking.”

“Dirtier,” you commanded, sitting on the counter and pulling him between your legs.

“You are a dirty, good-for-nothing, b-”

He froze, looking down.

“Go on,” you said, your eyes wide, red spots in your cheeks.

His chest rose and fell. “I'm sorry, Y/n. I cannot.”

You sighed. “But you were doing so good!”

Elijah stared up at you, hard. “It is impossible. I cannot look a queen in the eye and call her anything less.”

You looked down. Heat prickled over your face.

Elijah laughed, kissing his way down your throat to your collarbone. “You modern women confound me! Why do you wish to be insulted by men, when you deserve to be worshipped?”

You massaged his soft hair. “I don’t know. It just feels exciting. Naughty.”

Elijah slowly sank to his knees. He looked up at you, his brown eyes wide. He kissed your hand. “And would it still be naughty if you directed the dirty talk at me?”

You couldn’t fight your smile. “Elijah, are you saying you want to be insulted?”

Elijah raised an eyebrow. “It seems rather more appropriate. After all, you are a great Queen, and I your lowly servant.”

You grinned, reaching down to cup his cheek. He let his head hang back, moaning at your touch.

“Elijah,” you murmured, “You should kiss the ground I walk on. You’re nothing but a nasty little… slut.”

Elijah’s eyes shot open. He laughed, his cheeks colouring in surprise.

You cupped your hands over your mouth. “Oh my god. Was that too much?”

Elijah gave you a smile, pouting his lips. He stood and swept your hips to his. “On the contrary. This ‘dirty talk’ is marvellous. I feel quite aroused.”

And roaring into your neck, he carried you in his arms, strode into the bedroom, and threw you onto your bed.

“Elijah!” you said, watching him unbutton his shirt with hungry readiness.

“Sorry, darling,” he said, using his teeh to pull up your shirt, then lavishing kisses on your stomach. “You talk to me that way - you'll have to face the consequences.”

[writememysticfalls]

Jealous | Stefan Salvatore

Summary: Stefan is the perfect boyfriend - but all you can think about is his dirtbag brother Damon. One night, Stefan can't take it anymore.

Pairing: Stefan Salvatore x reader

Genre: Angsty, jealous!Stefan

Word count: >1k

“Happy 18th Birthday!” everyone cheered as you walked into the Salvatore house. You spun round and grinned at Stefan, who was leaning on the doorframe, looking modest.

“You like it?” he said quietly.

You jumped onto Stefan, hugging him and wrapping your legs around his waist. “I love it.”

Just when you were enjoying yourself, someone entered like a dark cloud: Damon Salvatore.

He sauntered down the stairs into the living room and whisked your cup from your hand. He sipped it in disgust.

“Beer! Naughty Nancy. Should I call the cops on you kids?”

You snatched the cup back from him, your heart racing. “Go away,” you said.

You hated Damon. You hated his arrogant smile, the way he looked down on you and Stefan like you were kids. Most of all, you hated how dumb he made you feel.

“Ooh, nasty,” Damon said, clutching his heart in false agony. “I might never recover from that.”

“Go back to your room,” Stefan said, pushing his chest out at Damon. The move didn't manage to look threatening, because Damon was taller than him.

“Ooh, looks like little bro’s getting angry,” Damon said. “I would love a fight. This party is a yawn. I bet you'll have the whole crowd going beddy byes by 9.” He said that last part in a baby voice.

“Just ignore him,” Stefan said, steering your shoulders away as Damon loped up the stairs.

You grabbed a random red cup from the table, and gulped it down, then did the same with a second. “Right, right,” you said. “I can't believe Damon! I mean, does he think he can just waltz in here and tell us what to do?”

Stefan nodded. “Damon loves to waltz.”

You huffed. “He didn't just insult me - he insulted you. He talked to you like a child, Stefan. Didn't that annoy you?”

Stefan pulled you into a slow dance in the centre of the room. “Forget about Damon, babe. This is your night.”

But you were too full of alcohol and righteous indignation to listen to your boyfriend.

“He thinks I don't know how to have fun? I know how to have fun!”

You stormed up the stairs, and to the door to the roof. Stefan tramped behind the whole way.

Once you were on the roof, you looked down at the Salvatores’ swimming pool, which glowed like a blue gem three floors down. Swaying a little, you yanked off your black vest, and then your shorts, so you were just in your underwear.

“No, Y/n, this is crazy,” Stefan said. “You're human, you could break your neck.”

“I'm not afraid of a little danger, Stefan,” you said. Only, the icy wind was sobering you up, and you were realising that it was an awfully long way down.

“Why are you acting like this?” Stefan said, and he sounded so despairing you turned to look at him. He rubbed his hands over his face and sat on the edge of the roof. “Your friends spent days organising this party. You ignored all of them, got stupidly drunk and are now risking your life for an insane stunt. What's gotten into you?”

You locked your jaw firmly into place. “Maybe you're the problem. You treat me like I'm made of glass. I mean, you're a vampire, isn't dating you meant to be fun?”

Stefan’s mouth fell open a little. He seemed too angry to speak for a moment. “This isn't you, Y/n, this…” He stopped speaking mid-sentence. “Oh my god. You have feelings for my brother.”

You frowned. “You've got it twisted. I hate Damon. He ruins every waking hour of my life.”

Stefan gave a faintly hysterical laugh. “Oh my god. How did I not see this? I am such an idiot.”

“Shut up!” you said, feeling suddenly vulnerable in your nakedness.

Stefan stared at you, and his black eyes were so cold and careless, you shivered. “Why exactly do you hate my brother, Y/n?”

You blinked. You hadn't expected this question. “Because - because he makes my blood boil. When I'm around him, I feel like this stupid child that can't speak or think straight. Because he sticks in my head and ruins every good moment I have with you.”

Stefan turned away. “I see.”

“Wait,” you said, following Stefan, suddenly aware in your drunkenness that you had said something wrong. “Don't go away like this, Stefan. I love you. Can we just start over?”

He stopped walking, and you moved in front of him, wrapping your hands around his face. “Stefan, you're- you're so sweet, and kind, and you love me, and you actually pay attention to me-”

Stefan broke you off with a grating laugh. “I get it. You chose me because my brother ignores you and I don't. Just what every guy wants to hear.”

You froze, stunned by the truth of what he had said. It was true that you had first approached Stefan, because his soft, friendly beauty was the safe alternative to Damon’s gut-wrenching charm. You could be cool, and funny, and smart around Stefan - because he didn't make you feel the way Damon did. It didn't feel like your heart would burst out of your chest every time he walked in the room. You didn't spend nights lying awake, overanalysing every flutter of his hand on your back, replaying every time he said your name. It was just… easier.

“I just hope you're happy together,” Stefan said, his face unreadable. He vaulted over the roof in a flash and was gone.

You sat there with your hands grasping your knees, shivering and half-naked. This birthday had quickly gone from being a perfect night to being a terrible one - all because you couldn't hide your feelings for your boyfriend's idiotic brother.

—

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