‎‧₊˚✧𝓙𝓮𝓼𝓼 ✧˚₊‧

❝𝓣𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓷 𝓸𝓷 𝓫𝓸𝓽𝓱 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓼.❞

[ajesterwrites]

Masterlist

STILL IN PROGRESS (EP. 5/22)!

summary: in a world where Elena Gilbert doesn't exist, you take her place. Four months after your parents' deaths, you return to Mystic Falls, harboring a dark secret. Your entire world spins out of control when you're caught in a turbulent feud between the Salvatore brothers, who vie earnestly for your love.

Please don't steal, copy, or edit my work!

THE KEY

reader x stefan chapters will be colored blue

reader x damon chapters will be colored red

*Note: this doesn't mean that pairings won't overlap, just that the assigned color is the main focus of that specific chapter.

season one // tainted hearts

i. first day blues — you prepare for your first day in eleventh grade.

ii. first day magic — while trying to protect jeremy from his addiction, you run into stefan salvatore for the first time.

iii. hitchcock-inspired — you encounter stefan and a mysterious crow for the second time.

iv. date at the mystic grill — when stefan returns your journal, you invite him to the grill to hang out with bonnie and caroline.

v. bridges & bonfires — you bond with stefan at the bonfire.

vi. animal attack — when vicki is attacked at the annual bonfire, you and your friends jump into action.

vii. therapy — you attend a secret therapy session and continue to hide your past.

viii. seize the day — you reconcile with vicki; bonnie and caroline convince you to take a chance with stefan.

ix. the fatalist — you meet damon for the first time.

x. the fashionable miss forbes — you and caroline get ready for the festival, but tragic news puts a damper on your day.

xi. harbinger of heartbreak — It's the night of the comet and heartbreaks await.

xii. bonnie's doubt — you reflect on bonnie's doubts—and your own—regarding your budding friendship with stefan.

xiii. those who can't do — in class, stefan comes to the rescue.

xiv. three's a crowd — even at dinner, bonnie is reluctant to befriend stefan.

xv. fifth wheel — unexpected visitors crash your dinner date with bonnie and stefan.

xvi. the necklace — stefan gives you an unexpected present.

xvii. game night — tensions snap between you, damon, and later caroline.

xviii. tiebreaker — damon catches you in a vulnerable moment. jenna reveals awful news, and you come to a startling realization.

xix. the invitation — jeremy's anger grows. your world continues to fall apart. but in the darkness, you find a sliver of peace.

xx. history repeats — at the founders' party, damon shares a piece of the salvatore history, hoping to drive a wedge between you and stefan.

xxi. caroline's strife — secrets are revealed, pushing you further away from stefan. as the night worsens, you continue to spiral.

xxii. resident bystander — vicki makes a comeback. after days of radio silence, you encounter stefan.

xxiii. man of the hour — you learn the truth about stefan.

xxiv. table for two — stefan surprises you with an impromptu dinner, hoping to get in your good graces.

xxv. leap of faith — trusting stefan may be easy, but life never is.

[ajesterwrites]

25. leap of faith

summary: you love stefan, but is it possible to trust him more than you hate damon?

pairings: stefan salvatore x fem! reader

warning: none

word count: 3.8K

previous chapter: table for two

WHAT WAS BETTER than a day under the scorching sun, scrubbing cars until your arms ached, surrounded by a bunch of horny (though thankfully, not touchy) teenagers? 

A lot of things, actually. 

But at least it was Saturday morning, which meant you had all the time in the world to think. In fact, thinking was all you’d done last night. 

After that impromptu dinner with Stefan, you’d gone to bed in a state of bliss, hoping that your worries would be quelled. But as the moon passed through the sky, you stared at the ceiling, a newfound clarity keeping you awake. You were certain that Stefan had nothing to do with Mystic Falls’ recent tragedies. However, one person was the perfect suspect—if you could even call him a person—and that was Damon. 

The Salvatores brothers’ dynamic had become so painfully obvious. Damon was a callous monster, willing to hurt anyone if it meant seeing Stefan suffer. And Stefan had opened up about doing things that he regretted, so you imagined that he was torn between wanting to stop his brother but also feeling responsible for his actions. 

Learning a little bit more about Stefan made you happy, considering that he kept most of his personal life under wraps. But these late-night conclusions left one question unanswered: where the hell was Damon? 

 A few days after the incident with Caroline, Stefan had simply said that he’d been “dealing with Damon.” Then he told Caroline that he was gone and wasn’t coming back. What exactly did that mean? Was he dead? Did Stefan kill him? 

You didn’t know Stefan as much as you wanted to, but you struggled to imagine him murdering his own brother, at least not in a quick or particularly violent way. Besides, if it was so easy to kill him just like that, why hadn’t he done it sooner? 

This entire ordeal felt unsettlingly incomplete. Thank God you’d always been one to tie up loose ends. 

Of course, tying up loose ends meant having a car wash date with Stefan, which was more fun than you'd anticipated. Bonnie’s dad decided to show his support by dropping off his car. You’d agreed to do the honors of washing it, but once your arms began to hurt, you and Stefan came to an arrangement: he scrubbed, you rinsed. 

Of course, you hadn’t promised that you wouldn’t rinse him. Originally, you’d simply miscalculated the direction of the hose. Once the water hit him, he looked up and laughed with that ridiculously charming smile of his. Then just like that, the idea popped into your head. “Thirsty?” Was the only warning you’d given him. 

Even with his vampire instincts, he had no time to dodge the next stream. 

You laughed maniacally as he took a face full of hosewater. When you finally lowered the hose, he was drenched. He had shut his eyes to take it like a champ, and when he realized he was no longer under attack, he looked at you with pursed lips. Others might call it mean but you couldn’t stop giggling. You were so loud that some of your classmates turned to you, confused and slightly disgruntled, but none of that mattered when Stefan grinned at you. Stefan was a great secretkeeper but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t an equally great sport. 

“I’m sorry, I had to,” Was the only apology you could give. His wet dark shirt clung to his skin. He pulled it off effortlessly, showing off his jacked physique. You wondered if he always looked like that or if he only became physical after transitioning into a vampire. 

As he brought his shirt over his head, his mysterious ring glinted in the sun. 

You remembered that Damon wore an identical ring. It was the only similarity they had except for their last names. Surely that had to mean something, far beyond sentimental value. 

Stefan went back to scrubbing the car, still beaming despite the strenuous task. Suds covered the hand, slipping between the ring's prongs and stone. You hoped you didn’t sound too suspicious when you asked “Why don’t you take it off?” 

“My shirt wasn’t enough?” He teased. 

You chuckled. “No, it's just that there's soap getting in the ring.” 

He looked at his hand, as if noticing for the first time. “Oh it’s fine.” 

You tilted your head, slightly narrowing your eyes, as he went back to washing Bonnie’s dad’s car. You grabbed a cloth and joined him. Even though you had an arrangement that you quite liked, it’d be suspicious to stand there doing nothing while interrogating him. 

“I noticed that Damon has one too. Is there a story behind that?” 

“Yeah, it’s the, uh, family crest from the Italian Renaissance.” Stefan had a way of letting lies linger. You could tell by his tone of voice that there was absolutely more to the story. After a few more casual questions, he explained that the stone in the center was a lapus lazuli and it'd been passed down through several generations of the Salvatore bloodline.

“It looks magical,” You commented, studying his reaction. 

He glanced at the ring, tensing a bit and simply responded “You could say that.” 

Ever since you learned what secrets he’d been keeping, it was getting easier to translate his half-truths. You could say that was definitely code Yes indeed, what an astute observation. Please don’t be onto me! And that was all you needed to know. If you had to guess, you would say that the ring had a spell on it, which allowed both Stefan and Damon to walk under the sun. It was an ability that no other vampire had. Stefan had successfully integrated himself into modern society, so why would he ruin his chances with an outdated ring? And Damon was far from the sentimental type. You found it hard to believe that he’d hold on to such an antiquated gem unless his life was literally on the line. And when you found him, you’d be the first to rip it off of his blood-soaked hands. What joy you’d get watching him burn to a crisp underneath the sun.

“You okay?” Stefan asked, raising his brows at you.

You blinked out of your daydream, taking notice of your surroundings. You wondered if your heartbeat had given away your violent fantasy. Stefan didn’t seem scared or even cautious, just slightly confused. Good. The thought of an all-sensing vampire being unable to figure you out gave you comfort. It was strange. You felt like a human but something entirely different at the same time. 

“Yeah, just, um…you know, all this talk about you and your family heirloom. It makes me wonder about Damon.” 

Stefan’s jaw tightened. His voice was low and admittedly scary when he said “Damon won’t be a problem anymore.” 

“Why’s that?” You wondered aloud. Stefan refused to meet your piercing gaze, instead focusing on the car with a vacant look in his eyes. “Look, I just want to make sure that he won’t hurt Caroline anymore.” 

“He won’t.” 

“How do you know that?” You pressed. He still wouldn’t look at you. What could be so interesting about some damn soap? You played nice long enough, now it was time for some answers. You jammed your hands onto his, forcing him to stop what he was doing and finally meet with eyes. 

His long stare communicated what his words didn’t: hope, fear, exhaustion. It must’ve been draining keeping all of these secrets. He didn’t mask his emotions with a smile. Instead, he sighed. “I know that you’re confused and worried that Damon will come back. But can you please trust me?” 

He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world, to just blindly offer him trust when he’d really done nothing to earn it. The more you discovered about him, the more puzzled you became. Anyone else would run for the hills. But strangely enough, his request was the easiest thing in the world. It was Stefan Salvatore—a secretive vampire, sure—but an amazing friend who’d let you lean on his shoulder even when you didn’t ask him to. 

You’d felt a strong connection to him since the moment you met. But it wasn’t like you were soulmates. The way that you felt about him was something that not even a god or fate could fabricate. It was something all natural yet unreal. You’d always considered Matt to be your first love, but something about Stefan made you not want to hurt him…but also risk being hurt by him. Your survival instincts screamed at you to run away or drill him for more answers. But a quiet, haunting voice begged you let things be. 

You feared for Caroline’s safety, but if you were being honest, that’s not the main reason you wanted to find Damon. Maybe it was a control thing, but you desperately wanted to be the one to end him, or at least be there when it happened. It was hard to accept such a violent nature…at least, it was hard for the people around you. But Stefan was asking you to liberate yourself from it, just this once. 

You didn’t know you had it in you, but you found yourself nodding. “Yeah. I trust you.” You trusted him more than you should, more than you anticipated, and more than a feeble heart could comprehend. 

Your hand was still pressed against his. You didn’t want to let go and by the looks of it, neither did he. You stayed there for a moment, holding eye contact. Stefan was now hovering above you, his hot and minty breath fanning your face. He caressed your hair with his free hand. His eyes darted to your lips. You’d seen hungry vampires before but never this kind of hunger, not even with Ryder. This desire transcended anything physical. It was a craving for something deep and intangible, just pure connection to you, and touch was simply a means of achieving that but certainly not the goal. 

You were reminded of the silver necklace dangling past your collarbone. The present look on his face was identical to the one he’d had when he’d given you the necklace. But somehow, over the course of a few weeks, it’d become much more earnest and longing. 

Maybe you were an idiot to fall in love with him, but you were smart enough to sense that he felt the same way. You didn’t know when it transformed from a crush to something a million times more intimidating, but this wasn’t something you could easily sweep under the rug. 

But you were you, and you were ambitious, so of course you had to try. 

“I’m uh…” You withdrew your hand and slowly backed up. “I’m going to get more t-towels.” 

You tossed the washcloth onto the hood of the car and scampered away. 

As you roamed the parking lot, surrounded by bikinis and trousers and some very suspicious adults, you smashed your palm into your forehead. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” 

You ran your hands across your face and massaged your  temples. “What the hell am I doing?” You murmured to yourself. You ducked under the shade, away from prying eyes so you could have your meltdown in peace. 

Everyone was here at this slightly misguided fundraiser, trying to save money for a worthy cause. And here you were, panicking over your dumb decisions. How could you let yourself fall in love with him? And how could you question your actions so many times, but keep doing the same thing? You were going insane. You couldn’t even blame this on Stefan, it was entirely you. 

For someone so menacing, you could be such a teenager. Sometimes you forgot how young you were. You’d been through so much shit, the kind of nightmares that most adults could never endure. Maybe that’s why you loved Stefan so much. He gave you the peace to get through it but also the hope that one day you could face it. It certainly helped that he had amazing abs and was so easy to talk to. Plus, the boy was a cook! It really couldn’t get any better than that. 

Love was supposed to be simple, but that word was almost foreign to you. Every aspect of your life was tainted in complications. Where was this even going? He would never tell you the truth about himself. You’d probably never tell him either. This wasn’t headed anywhere good and if you had any sense, you’d save yourself the trouble. 

You took a deep breath. First, you needed to find the towels. Then you’d think about what to say to Stefan. 

You found Caroline, Mystic Falls’ very own star planner, lounging on a bench in a pink frilly bikini top and denim shorts, counting the current funds. She seemed very pleased with today’s earnings and you still had about an hour or two left.

“Care,” You called out. She glanced at you, her smile growing. “We’re out of towels.” 

“I’ll go get some more,” She chirped, extending the bills. “You mind the money.” 

“Yes ma’am,” You teased, taking the cash. She marched off like a soldier going into battle. You took her place at the bench, thinking deeply. You still weren’t sure what to do about the Stefan situation. 

As you ruminated on your current circumstances, you found your gaze wandering around the parking lot. You didn’t know why but the hairs on your arms stood. Goosebumps rushed down your skin. Someone was watching you. 

You turned to where Stefan was. He was staring at his hand, consumed by his mysterious thoughts. Jenna and her date Logan Fell looked pretty cozy, flirting by her car which you were pretty sure had been washed an hour ago. Matt and Bonnie were chatting away, though about what, you weren’t certain. 

Above you, a small voice warned.

You slowly turned your head to the lamppost above, and sure enough, someone was there. It was an eerily familiar crow watching Caroline strut into the school, head twitching, eyes wide and beady. 

A crow crashed into Bonnie’s car on the first day of the school. Hours later, it chased you out of the cemetery. Bonnie had  her first real vision of it. And now here it was, stalking Caroline? Once was strange, twice was a coincidence, but this? This was a pattern. 

You watched as the bird took off through the sky, overhead some trees, and thought maybe you had it all wrong. But then you noticed the direction it was going…right into the school. You started to follow, traipsing through the lot so you wouldn’t draw attention…and Caroline emerged, staring mindlessly ahead, as if lost in a trance. Her bubbly, bedazzled spirit was completely gone. She looked lost but unnaturally focused.

So you did the only sensible thing you could: you grabbed your bike off the rack and followed after her. 

◇◇◇

You didn’t know how long you’d been stalking her. 

But eventually, the sun began to fade and your legs were killing you. Caroline didn’t seem at all fazed by the long walk. In fact, she didn’t look anything. 

This was crazy. Sure, she’d always been super athletic. That’s part of what made her such a great cheerleader, aside from her natural pep and leadership skills. But even Caroline had her limit, and strolling aimlessly through the town for miles wasn’t something she’d ever do for fun, even if it resulted in toner legs. 

You wanted to call her name and ask what the hell she was doing…until you realized where you were. 

The road stretched into a driveway you’d only seen once, but it’d definitely left an impression on you. Towering above it was a large ancient home, where many secrets and mysteries lived.

The Salvatore Mansion. 

This was getting weirder by the minute. 

While Caroline approached the door with purposeful steps, you hid in the bushes bordering the courtyard. She stepped inside as if the house were her own, not even bothering to knock or ring the old-fashioned doorbell. You waited in the shrubbery, listening for any screams or terrifying noises, admittedly distracted by questions of who was maintaining such a large property. 

You checked the time on your phone. If Caroline wasn’t out in five minutes, you were going to burst in there and drag her out, explanation or not. 

Unfortunately for you, she was racing out of the door before three minutes passed. Her cheeks were flushed as she sprinted out of the courtyard, her face contorted with fear. You’d never seen her look so scared in your life. You jumped from your hiding place, eliciting a yelp from her. Normally, she’d be pissed at you for stalking her, but one look at your bike and suddenly you were her savior. 

“We have to go!” She screamed. Without a word, you propped your bike up and hopped on. It wasn’t made for two, but you scooted forward to make space and pedaled like your life depended on it. 

Once you were at your house, you hit the brakes and jolted forward. You slammed your sneakers on the ground to prevent yourself from flying off. Earlier, you’d complained about the pain in your arms. But once the adrenaline wore off, your muscles felt like they were on fire. You hadn’t been this active in a long, long time. 

“Caroline, explain!” You demanded through huffs. Wow, you were severely out of shape. “What the hell was that?! Caroline!” 

Caroline flinched and looked around, as if breaking from a trance. Her face had returned to its natural color, and now she was staring at you like she was confused. “Y/N? What’s going on? Why are we at your house?” 

“You tell me,” You replied, frowning. Was she playing dumb? If she didn’t want to tell you the truth, too bad. There was no way in hell you were going to let this slide.  “What happened at the mansion?”

“What mansion?” 

“...the Salvatore mansion.” 

Caroline laughed humorlessly. “Why would I be at Stefan’s house?”

You leaned forward, inspecting her. She really had no idea what was happening, did she? “Caroline, why were you running just now?” 

“I…” Caroline’s brows furrowed as she strained her mind. “I don’t know. I just felt like I had to.” 

“You don’t remember what you were running from?”

“No…” 

“Shit,” You whispered. Compulsion. Stefan was at the car wash, you’d made sure of that before you left. He had superhuman speed, sure, but Caroline’s trance started long before he could’ve done anything. This had to be the work of the only other vampire you knew to be in town, the only one who had such a strong hold on Caroline, and the only one who could scare her senseless. 

Damon fucking Salvatore.

Your heart sank. You’d wanted to trust Stefan so badly, but clearly he didn’t have it in him to kill his brother. You would have to take things into your own hands. You didn’t care if he knew the truth. Damon was too dangerous to be allowed to live.

Fresh resolve passed over your face. You weren’t a soldier, not by a long shot, but you knew a thing or two about hunting vampires. Your arsenal was non-existent but you were angry and determined, and that was all you needed. 

“Caroline, I need you to listen to me,” You said. You saw the confused, slightly panicked expression on her face. You’d comfort her later, but  right now you had to eliminate this threat looming over her life. “Stay here. Call your mom if you need to, but whatever you do, don’t go back there. Do you hear me?” 

When she didn’t answer, you seized her shoulders, shaking her. “Care, do you hear me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

You flung your front door open, hastened up the stairs, and into your bedroom. Without a moment to lose, you ransacked your drawers until you found what you were looking for: an old lighter from your days of smoking weed with Vicki. You stuffed it into your pocket and picked up the wooden chair in front of your vanity mirror. 

Your dad had made this with his own hands. He’d always been big on being active and creating things that were useful. And as much as it hurt you to do this, you had to protect Caroline. 

“Sorry Dad,” You murmured, even though you knew he’d understand. You slammed the chair onto the floor. The legs snapped upon impact, leaving pieces of wood scattered about. You grabbed the longest, sharpest block you could find and ran back out. 

“Where are the keys?!” You shouted breathlessly as you charged downstairs. Jenna had been in the kitchen with Logan, her laughter drifting through the halls, though you’d barely noticed. When she heard you yell, she blinked, caught completely off guard, but tossed you the ring of car keys. 

You paid no mind as she followed after you, probably asking you a bunch of questions that you didn’t have time for. You didn’t say anything to Caroline, who lingered by the door, growing more disturbed by the second. She called after you, but you jumped in the car and slammed the door shut. 

Your next few movements were almost mechanical. You were driven purely by instinct and adrenaline. This sensation hadn’t overtaken you in months but you’d do anything to save a friend, even return to such a dark place. After tossing the wooden leg in the front seat, you twisted the key into the ignition, peeled out of the driveway, then whisked down the street. You didn’t stop until you were back at the Salvatore Mansion. 

Night had fallen. Even the crickets were silent, like they knew what you were going to do and wished to hide from your wrath. You pulled your new weapon under your arm, brandishing it toward the mansion, and braced yourself to attack. 

“Here goes nothing,” You said quietly to yourself. You marched down the driveway, ready to kick the door down if necessary. You were only a few inches away when it suddenly swung open. 

Stefan stood at the threshold, wide eyes frantic, a wooden stake raised in the air. When he registered who you were, he lowered it, starting to explain…and then he saw the weapon underneath your arm. 

For the first time ever, he looked completely thrown. In any other circumstances, you might’ve found it funny. But tonight, you were out for blood. 

“I know what you are,” You declared, not even caring how this looked. You were going to do this. He could try to stop you but any attempts would be fruitless. So you lifted the wood higher, held your chin up and declared “And I’m here to kill your brother.”

[ajesterwrites]

24. table for two

summary: stefan surprises you with an impromptu dinner.

pairings: stefan salvatore x fem! reader

warnings: lots of feelings

word count: 2.8K

previous chapter: man of the hour

THE WORD “VAMPIRE” rang through your head, taking up space until it was the only truth remaining. 

Stefan was a bloodthirsty monster. And that meant Damon was too. 

Had they killed Mr. Tanner? Had they attacked Vicki? Were they responsible for Ryder’s death? If Damon was capable of doing those ghastly things to Caroline, what else was he capable of? 

You needed a drink. 

No, you needed to think. 

But your mind was spinning from all this thinking. Since you’d run out of the Grill, your nausea only intensified. When you’d gotten home, your first thought was to get wasted. But you couldn’t. You were afraid that anything that went down would just come back up. So you sat on the edge of your bed, drowning in your thoughts, your journal wide open yet untouched beside you. 

If you were smart, you’d sharpen a block of wood into something useful. You tried to imagine your own makeshift stake going through Stefan’s chest, but the image of him turning gray and swollen like the others put a dent in your stomach. 

This couldn’t be right. Stefan was….Stefan. He was sweet. And kind. And a gentleman. He wasn’t evil…right? 

A series of sharp knocks jolted you back into reality. “You okay?” A voice asked. 

You frowned and turned to face the speaker. Jeremy stood by the door, his arms crossed over his dark T-shirt. You couldn’t remember the last time he came to you. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

Jeremy glanced at the open journal next to your leg. You grabbed it and slammed it shut before he should peer too deeply. “Vicki said you kicked her out this morning.” 

“Did she talk to you at school?” The sour edge in your tone was impossible to ignore. 

“Don’t worry about Vicki.” 

You scoffed. “Can’t you see she’s manipulating you?” 

Jeremy sighed. Irritation rolled off of him in waves, but he kept it at bay. “You worry about your love life and I’ll worry about mine.” 

“What love life?” You asked bitterly. Anything you had or thought you had with Stefan was dead and gone, buried by all of his lies. You couldn’t believe this. The first boy you’d actually fallen in love with, the one person you could see yourself with that wasn’t Ryder, and he was a vampire? 

You weren’t simple-minded. If Ryder could be a good person, then who wasn’t to say that any other vampire could be? But you had to acknowledge that special circumstances tamed him. And even Ryder’s life was shrouded in violence. The nature of a vampire was inescapable, no matter how moral the person beneath was. One mistake could easily destroy a life. 

Despite you, Jeremy smiled. “You should eat something.” 

“I’m not really hungry so—” 

“Y/N,” Jeremy urged, laughing at your ignorance. “You should eat something.” 

He turned around and walked away, stifling a broader smile. You furrowed your eyebrows. What was he up to? 

Reluctantly, you hopped off of your bed and started down the hall. Pots clanged downstairs. With each step, the sounds of metal banging and stirring grew, along with your confusion. 

“Jenna?” You called, skipping onto your wooden floor. You curved into the kitchen. “Aren’t you supposed to be with…” 

Your breath froze in your throat as you went to a sudden halt. “Stefan?”  

He stood at the counter, a white towel draped over his shoulder, chopping vegetables on a wooden cutting board. Under the bright kitchen lights, he appeared so normal. But the truth gnawed at your chest, leaving a hole of uncertainty. “What are you doing here?” 

“Dinner,” He said simply. “Jeremy told me your favorite dish and I happen to be a good cook. Italian roots demand it.” Normally you would’ve cracked a smile, but the whiplash caused by his presence stunned you in place.

 “I can even make my own homemade mozzarella,” He went on, as if he wasn’t possibly a murderer, though you couldn’t deny that you liked his accent on the last word. But all this talk about food made you nervous. Surely he must’ve drank the blood of humans, right? Then again…he could also walk in the sun, so maybe things were different for him. “Only tonight, it’s storebought. Sorry.” 

Had he been rushing to meet you? Did he want to make amends that badly? Or was this all an elaborate scheme to earn your trust? 

The answers must be in his eyes somewhere. That’s what your mother always said, that eyes were the windows to the soul. But you were afraid that you’d get lost in them, unable to distinguish his lies and his truths.

“Why are you here?” You hesitantly asked, averting your gaze to the plastic container of mozzarella. 

You didn’t see the look on his face, but you could imagine the flash of hurt. “You want to know me, right?” Stefan replied. “Well, if tomorrow we won’t be friends then…I figure you should at least know who you’ll be former friends with.” 

You glanced at your bare feet. Stefan was wearing the same outfit from earlier, appropriate for an impromptu dinner. Meanwhile, you were in your pajamas, feeling covered and exposed all at once. Only he could make you feel out-of-place in your own house. 

“So let’s start with Katherine.” 

Her name drew a deep sigh from your lips. A week ago, you’d wanted to know everything about Katherine. And while part of you still did, how could you trust a word from his mouth, knowing that he was hiding fangs?

“She was…the most beautiful girl that I had ever met.” 

You suppressed a huff of laughter. That was the first description that Damon had used too. You were almost curious to see what she looked like. She must’ve been gorgeous. 

“She had this perfect skin.” A dreamy grin crossed his features. Though normally you would’ve found yourself getting jealous, there was such a genuine and childlike wonder on his face. It was the sweetest thing you’d ever seen. “And she had this laugh. It was ridiculous. I mean, her laugh made you laugh. And she was fun. She knew how to have a good time.” 

Against your instincts, you found yourself smiling. The way he spoke about this ghost of a stranger almost made you miss her, despite the fact that you hadn’t known her and you never would. It reminded you of how much the mere memory of someone could dictate someone’s life, even after years of grieving. 

“But Katherine was also very impatient and entitled and selfish, and, um, impulsive.” While his voice didn’t rise, the knife in his hand struck the wooden board erratically, gaining momentum with each strike. Was he trying to chop the vegetables  or dismember them? “Enter Damon. He claims that he was with her first. I don't know. I do know that I did some things that...I'm not proud of.” Stefan redirected his focus to your face, no longer slashing at the food.  “And my biggest regret...is not being able to make it right before she died.” 

Your eyes softened. You were all too familiar with guilt such as his. The night that your parents died, you’d done so many things wrong. You’d repeated similar mistakes with Ryder. Some days, that burden of regret felt like it was on top of you, crushing you. Other days, when you started to escape, it was beneath you, but then its claws gripped your legs and dragged you back down. And as much as Stefan hid it, you knew he felt that too. Vampire or not, this was the most humane you’d ever seen him. 

You should’ve been thinking about his protruding veins and hidden fangs. You should’ve been calculating how long it might take you to prick him with the chopsticks in your kitchen drawer. 

It was unbelievable how much he dulled your instincts. He was a vampire. He was everything you should fear. His nature represented everything that you’d tried to run from in yourself daily: selfish, animalistic, cruel. And yet… 

Your heartbeat stilled. Serenity rushed over you in waves. 

“I miss her, but…” Stefan said softly. “I'm no longer crippled by her loss.” 

That was it. 

That was all you needed to hear before you lost your senses. 

Stefan seemed to notice the way you were gazing at him because his expression shifted from gravity to confusion. “Is there something on my face?” 

“No,” You said wistfully, then pinched yourself for letting yourself drift. You hoped it would bring you back to reality, but it didn’t. You searched every detail of his face: the sincerity in his beautiful eyes, the styled hair that he’d clearly put effort into, and those ears that hung onto every word you spoke. How could a vampire look so…ethereal? 

Stefan quickly realized that you were looking at him with adoration, not judgment. He dropped his eyes to the cutting board, smiling. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was trying to conceal a blush. 

Suddenly, your body coiled up with awareness. He could sense everything about you. He knew exactly what moments your heartbeat accelerated and when it lost tempo, slowing down to a pace that almost resembled peace. It wasn’t just your pajamas that exposed you now. It was your own organs. 

Your senses were reacting to him. And worse, he knew it. 

You were supposed to be smarter than this. There was still so much you didn’t know about him. What went down between him and Damon? Surely their estrangement couldn’t be because of a single girl. And had he killed Ryder? What about Mr. Tanner? And Vicki’s attack? Stefan could’ve been around each of them before he died. He could’ve killed him. The same hands he used to prepare you dinner now may have once been soaked in your ex-best friend’s blood. 

Flutters erupted in your chest. Questions about Ryder flooded your brain. Had he died long and painfully? What had his last words been? What had he last thoughts been? Had they been about you? 

You gave Stefan a long look, struggling with the possibility that he might’ve been the last person to see Ryder alive. What kind of friend would you be if you didn’t at least try to get answers? 

“You know,” You began, watching as he expertly scraped the veggies into a sizzling pan. “I like this dinner much more than our last."

Stefan smiled. Who could forget that disaster of an evening with Damon and Caroline? Poor Bonnie had become the fifth wheel in a get-together that was specifically orchestrated to bond her and Stefan.

"Still, it was...nice having all of my best friends in one place."

Stefan turned the stove off and prepared the plates, but still made sure to keep his eyes on you.

"All except one."

He frowned. "Who?"

"His name was Ryder," You said. Realization slowly dawned on him. "He was at the bonfire...and he died. The police are saying it was an overdose."

Stefan set the plates on the table. He looked straight at you, and you expected to see regret, guilt, any trace of remembrance. But instead, he looked...sad for you. "I read a paper about that," He said. "I didn't realize you two were friends."

You wanted to laugh. A paper. They couldn't even bother to put him in the news. Mystic Falls had a horrible habit of hiding anything that didn't fit its picture-perfect aesthetic. Why would Ryder, a complete stranger with a questionable lifestyle, be treated any differently? You couldn't believe that his entire life had been condensed to a single article, one that probably didn't even fill the page. And Stefan was probably the only person in this damn town who'd even bother reading it.

"No one knew about us," You shrugged. "We didn't meet until after my parents died. We actually came to Mystic Falls together."

Stefan stepped closer to you, his eyes suddenly intense. "You must miss him."

"I do." The admission was instinctual. You'd said those words faster than you could process them and you hated yourself for it. What's worse were the tears that slowly pooled in your eyes. "I spoke to him before the bonfire. Well, I yelled at him. I didn't know that it would be the last time."

You took a deep, shaky breath. You quickly dried your eyes. Based off of the empathetic look on his face, it was safe to assume he didn't know anything. You'd made a fool of yourself, but at least now you had the answers you needed. Some people were great actors but nobody, not even a vampire, could fake that kind of compassion.

Stefan reached out with slow, tentative moments. His fingers gripped your shoulders, then slid down your arms, leaving trails of warmth until his hands found yours. He squeezed them gently.

"Well," You said, forcing a smile. "At least we got the awkward ex-talk out of the way. Anyhow, I'm starving."

You pulled back, a little more reluctantly than you intended, and went straight for the dinner table, where two steaming plates of delicious-looking food awaited. Stefan had even arranged silverware on white napkins, as well as two glasses full of your favorite beverage.

You'd thought that seeing him while in your pajamas was too exposing, but after telling him things about Ryder that you hadn't told anyone—not even your two best friends in the whole world—you felt like someone had peeled your skin off.

You assumed that Stefan would let it go as easily as you did. But you'd somehow forgotten that he wasn't the kind of guy to just let you forget. You hadn't gotten two steps in when he suddenly grabbed your hand and spun you around. You nearly bumped into his chest but his shoulders held you in place, steadying you on the wooden panels.

"Stefan, what-"

Before you could finish, he wrapped his arms around you. You froze instantly. Everything in you told you that this was all wrong. His very nature went against the laws of the universe.

You knew better. You knew a lot of things, like the Earth was round and magic was real. You knew that Caroline had read every Twilight book and could probably recite them from memory. You knew that your old neighbor was an alcoholic. You could list every embarrassing moment from Jeremy's life in under ten minutes. You could predict how long Jenna would take in the shower and what song she'd sing on her way to her bedroom.

You hadn't considered yourself a genius, but you were intelligent in all the ways that mattered. Maybe you didn't know everything, but you knew enough. Except for this moment. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't make sense of it.

Why did you sink into his embrace?

Why didn't you pull away and devise some flimsy excuse?

And why the hell did you open up to him of all people?

All logic and answers had completely forsaken you, but standing there in the kitchen, engulfed in his arms, you didn't feel like anything was missing. In fact, you hadn't felt this complete in a long time. It was almost...peaceful.

When the two of you separated, your body felt loneliness in the absence of his warmth. You realized that you could hug him forever and it still wouldn't be long enough.

He stared down at you, not with pity or mockery, but with sheer reverence, like you'd hung the moon in the sky. No one had ever looked at you like that, not even Matt. It was like he saw you fully, understood you for who you were, and it made him love you more.

Love.

Could he really love you? He saw so many versions of you: the awkward mess, overprotective sister, avoidant admirer, grieving orphan.

You loved your friends more than yourself, yet you worked overtime trying to mask pieces of your identity. Stefan didn't know how dangerous you could really be, though for a foolish moment, you wondered if he would even care.

You wanted to tell him so badly. But then you came to your senses. Holly would have your head if you did anything that stupid. And maybe he knew more about you, but there was still so much you didn't know about him. At the end of the day, you were two people standing face-to-face, lost in each other's eyes, but still wearing masks.

"Tell me more about yourself," You finally said. "I want to know everything."

With a smile, Stefan lead you to the table and pulled out a chair like the gentleman he was. As he sat across from you, you thought about everything you did and didn't know. You could debate many things, but one thing was for certain:

Even when undead, he was going to be the death of you. 

next chapter: leap of faith

[ajesterwrites]

23. man of the hour

summary: bonding time with matt as you wait for stefan to arrive. finally, the truth emerges.

pairings: stefan salvatore x fem! reader, matt donovan x fem! reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 2.2K

previous chapter: resident bystander

STEFAN WAS GONE. 

He wasn’t dead or anything. But it was half past four, you had been sitting in a booth at the corner of the room for the past thirty-five minutes, and he was nowhere to be found. The aroma of freshly made burgers and fries wafted through the air but you were in no mood to eat. Your shoulder leaned on the polished wooden walls. A yellow light burned beside you, buzzing slightly, matching the hum of your thoughts. 

On the way here, you’d sifted through all of the possible conversations you’d have with Stefan. I don’t care how sorry you are! You were going to say. You could’ve given us a heads-up! But instead you let your brother be a monster. 

You wanted to shove him or slap him or scream at him. But you also wanted to hear him out, clinging onto that shred of faith that maybe he had a good reason for all of this—however unlikely. 

But when your eyes swept over the Stefan-less room, your heart sank to your feet. A cloud of bitterness hung over your head and you scoffed. Of course he wasn’t here. Even in the eight hours he’d been at school, plus the four days he spent ghosting you, he probably couldn’t come up with any explanation. 

Because there wasn’t one. And he’d strung you along on this stupid trip. 

Your fingers drummed rapidly on the table. You could’ve been anywhere but here, making sure that Caroline wasn’t going through Damon withdrawals and giving Bonnie back-up. Or helping Jenna prepare for her date with Logan Fell. Instead, you were waiting on a guy who couldn’t even be bothered to show up to plans he made. No phone calls, no text messages, no nothing. Once again, he left you hanging in the dark without a single word. 

You huffed indignantly. “What a sad waste of time,” You muttered and slung your purse over your shoulder. Your feet had just hit the floor when a voice called out to you. 

Sparkling blue eyes met yours, accompanied by a kind smile. Matt was wearing a gray shirt Polo shirt and dark blue jeans. He gripped a large pool stick and coolly asked “Were you meeting someone?” 

You forced a smile. “Not anymore.” 

“Was it Stefan?” 

You nodded, not seeing a point in lying. You knew how he felt about Stefan…how jealous he was. Talking about boy trouble with him of all people wasn’t ideal. 

Everyone thought that your romance fell apart because of your parents’ deaths, but it’d been collapsing long before that. You worked great as friends—without the spontaneous love confessions at bonfires, of course—but as a couple? That was just asking for trouble. 

“If you don’t want to waste a trip, um, you can rack,” He offered, motioning toward the pool stick. His eyes glittered with hope. You started to protest when he added “Come on. We haven’t played in forever. I’ll let you break.” 

Your mouth snapped shut. You exhaled and smiled. “Sure, why not?” 

You had nothing to lose. Stefan had already taken your dignity. Your faith was running low. Today had been a long sequence of misery. And Matt was right—you hadn’t touched a pool stick in forever. 

◇◇◇

Minutes of hesitation blended into an hour of fun. 

You couldn’t lie. Matt Donovan was great company. Unlike Vicki, he didn’t rely on drugs and alcohol to have a good time (even though he had a gambling problem—drinks and nachos would be covered by the loser, apparently). 

After hitting various colored pool balls all evening, your hand needed a rest.

So you found a round table under the lights, surrounded by the lively chatter of Mystic Falls. You gladly dipped your fingers in a bowl of nachos. Your purse was lighter, but you were sure you’d gained at least three pounds. Matt sat across from you, popping the cheesy snacks in his mouth like his life depended on it. Why you’d agreed to feed a footballer of all people, the world would never know. 

You sipped from your drink to combat the chip-induced dryness. It was about six o’clock, and your talks with Matt had spun from Mr. Tanner’s death and the fight between Tyler and Jeremy to Vicki’s surprise guest appearance this morning. As you recounted the story, twirling your straw, annoyance fizzled on your features. 

Matt grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah…I’m not gonna lie. Your brother and my sister? That’s weird.” 

“Yeah,” You agreed, sighing. You wanted to say more. 

Then a nacho exploded in your hand and you realized you’d spoken enough on the subject. 

Matt didn’t know that months ago, you’d been the one to put Vicki in the hospital, even though Jenna had accessed her meager college savings to pay the medical bills. Your family would be buried in debt if it hadn’t been for the large check sent by your Uncle John (who could barely write a Christmas card, but you supposed that guilt had a way of making you do spontaneous things). 

Matt cleared his throat. “So…how are things with you and Stefan?” 

You’d seen the question dancing in his eyes the moment he approached you. But it didn’t stop the wave of frost you felt when Matt mentioned him. 

“I noticed that he hasn’t…been around,” Matt continued, frowning. He looked genuinely concerned. “Did something happen?” 

You almost laughed. What hadn’t happened? In less than a month, Stefan went from being the sweet and charming loner guy to a stranger holding dangerous secrets. 

“Things are just…strained right now.” You struggled to find the right words. Matt stared at you, a question mark hovering over his head. You sighed. “What do you think of him? Is he a good guy?” 

“Why? What’s he done?” 

“I don’t know, he’s just so quiet,” You lamented. You set the cup down, but gripped it tightly. Drops of water covered your hand. “Secretive. There’s something he doesn’t want me to know. And normally, I’m okay with secrets, you know? But…not if they can…” 

“Hurt you?” Matt finished, leaning forward. 

You nodded and glanced at the tray of food. Nachos were sprawled on checkered paper, where drops of melted cheese began to harden. It’d been delicious at first, but now it looked nauseating. “I mean, what do we know about him? Really?” 

In Mystic Falls, most people knew each other. In fact, circles of friends were practically generational. Families of founders stuck together to this day. Strangers were welcome but a rarity. 

Looking at Matt, you could list a million things about his childhood, his parents, and even his grandparents. But Stefan? 

You knew that he loved football. But was it just a hobby? What was his favorite team? Did he even watch football games? Learn from his father? Did he have any sacred memories attached to the sport? 

Stefan was also a reader and writer. He had a journal, but you’d never know what was inside. 

His parents were dead. What had their relationship been like? How old was Stefan when his parents died? Did he miss them? Did he know them? Were they good people—or at least good parents?  

He didn’t have a favorite superhero. So if he wasn’t surrounded by comic books and action toys, what was his childhood like? How did he entertain himself? Was he a happy boy or miserable and alone? 

This wasn’t just about Damon. The knowledge that he was a monster stained your mind, but you couldn’t help but wonder…why was he this way? Had something happened in his youth? Did that something touch Stefan as well? 

And Katherine…God, you had so many questions about Katherine. 

“He’s great at football,” Matt offered, noticing your distant gaze. You looked at him as he went on. “A little bit of a loner.” So not much talking in the locker room. Got it. “And as much as I hate saying it…he might be a nice guy.” 

“Well you’re best friends with Tyler Lockwood so I don’t know if I can trust your judgment,” You teased. Matt laughed. You let yourself join him. “So you think I’m just being paranoid?” 

“I think you should talk to him.” 

“Talk to who?” A voice cut in. 

You stiffened. Stefan approached the table, gazing at you. He wore the same shirt from this morning, this time layered with a black leather jacket. You approved of the change. Not that you would say it. 

Immediately, an apology streamed from his lips. “I’m so sorry that I’m late.” You glanced away. You wanted to ask why, but you weren’t sure that he would tell the truth. “There was this…thing with my uncle.” 

“And you couldn’t call and tell me that you were going to be an hour late?” 

“Okay,” Matt piped up, clapping his hands on the table. He pushed himself off the stool and patted your shoulder. “You guys have fun.” 

With that, he disappeared. Stefan took his seat. “I’m sorry,” He said. “It was unavoidable.” 

“What was unavoidable?” You probed. His eyes, which had been set on your face, wandered to the floor. You scoffed. “Okay.” 

You hopped off the stool and started toward the door. His hand quickly caught yours. “Y/N, please.” 

You stopped. Even now, his touch sent a ripple of warmth down your spine. When had you let him get so close? Why had you let him get so close?

“I thought you were going to give me answers,” You snapped, jerking free. Everything felt cold. “But instead, all I get is more questions. And I’m sick of it!” Your hand was shaking. Your face was beginning to flush and harden. He sighed quietly. “What is so awful that you’re afraid to tell me?”

“I…” 

"I know you,” Came a voice, aged and wistful, tinged with disbelief. 

You turned to see a man standing a few feet away, confused eyes set on Stefan. His clipped, silver-streaked coils of hair glinted under the Grill’s sun-colored lights. He stared at Stefan like he were a ghost, his dark skin paling at the sight of your sort-of friend. “My…god,” He murmured in horror, sizing Stefan up and down. 

You slowly geared your eyes at Stefan, who looked just as confused as you did. “I’m sorry?” 

“I know you,” The old man repeated like he’d never been more sure of anything in his life. “How can it be?” 

“I think you have the wrong person, sir.” In an instant, his bewilderment vanished. Stefan’s voice turned low and steady, no longer posing a question but issuing an order: Leave us alone.

The man shook his head slowly. “You haven’t aged a day.” 

You blinked. Stefan muttered a quick apology and rested his hand on your back, gently leading you away. Your eye caught the man’s. His wild stare frantically followed you, but his voice was gone. 

Suddenly, with that strange encounter, something in your mind clicked. 

Scraps of knowledge floated around you as you tried to make sense of everything. 

You weren’t a detective. But you raked through the evidence. 

Exhibit A: the deaths of those college kids right before your first day of school. 

Exhibit B: the night at the bonfire. Stefan’s eyes…they’d changed. You’d seen it before in Ryder and Robert. At the time, you’d chalked Stefan’s appearance up to drugs but what if it was something else? The party was a blur, but you remembered that he’d disappeared. Moments later, Vicki was attacked and Ryder was dead. 

Exhibit C: the registry. Oh god, the registry. Memories of that night whirled around and around. On that guest list, had you seen the names of the original Salvatore brothers…or the only? And those bite marks were inhumane. Only a monster could’ve done that—a monster with fangs. 

And Mr. Tanner had died after the homecoming game. The game that Stefan attended. 

You suddenly remembered the blood on his hand that'd magically disappeared. He'd convinced you that you were seeing things. You'd thought that you were going out of your damn mind. And this whole time...he was trying to cover up his own identity?

Your stomach churned. “Fuck,” You muttered, knees buckling. Your face went red-hot, like someone had pressed an iron on your cheek. The sounds of hysterical laughter, the clattering of forks, and pool sticks striking balls flickered in and out. 

Stefan caught you. “Hey, are you okay?” 

Panic surged through you as you shoved yourself out of his embrace, stumbling on shaky legs. Your vision twisted like you were on a carousel. You hardly registered the concern in his eyes. You wondered if he could hear your heart pulsing out of your skin. “I-I have to go,” You whispered. 

You staggered past a group of rowdy teens who were downing mugs of root beer like it was the real thing. The wooden walls pressed into you, suffocating you, until you stepped outside. The room changed from a warm brown to a blinding white. The wind seemed to attack you from all directions. 

Everything crashed at once. The truth buzzed loudly like an insect in your ear. 

This shouldn’t be possible. 

He was out in the sun—the same sun you were beneath now. 

But you’d ignored the signs for so long. You couldn’t any longer. 

Nothing had ever been clearer or hazier. But now you could see it. The words pounded in your head, over and over, creating a cacophony of whispers, all uttering the ugly truth. 

Stefan Salvatore was a vampire. 

[ajesterwrites]

22. resident bystander

summary: you wake up to an unpleasant surprise. caroline copes. stefan assures you that damon is gone for good, but you're not so sure.

pairings: stefan salvatore x fem! reader

word count: 2.7K

warning: violence, mention of abuse

previous chapter: caroline's strife

FOUR DAYS had passed since the Founders' Day party.

Four days since you'd found Caroline in the lawn of Lockwood Mansion, more broken than you'd ever seen her.

Four days since you learned that Damon was a monster and Stefan couldn't be trusted.

Four days since Jeremy stole your family's watch, claiming that it was supposed to be his, as it was passed down to the men of the Gilbert line.

Thursday morning rays burned through your bedroom window. Your alarm clock screamed. Caroline awakened beside you, rubbing her eyes and groaning.

Ever since the incident with him-who-should-not-be-named, you and Bonnie had thrown impromptu sleepovers for your friend in need. At a time like this, you couldn’t stand her being alone. 

You'd already apologized to her for abandoning her this summer and explained everything you could. You'd even told her what you did to Vicki and the shame that haunted you for months afterward. She'd been so understanding—and not in that "I'll say it's fine but it's really not" way that she had before.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She had asked, staring at you with those sad blue eyes. What she really meant was "Why didn't you let me be there for you?"

You'd sighed and looked away. "I was ashamed." The confession had eased the burden but didn't remove it completely. You still had to live with what you'd done. To Vicki and everyone else. "I...I didn't want you to see me differently."

Caroline had simply smiled sweetly and grabbed your hands. "I could never see you differently," She'd promised, pulling you into a hug. "You're my girl."

You'd let yourself sink into her embrace, grateful to have each other. Even though a taunting voice in the back of your mind sneered, "If only she knew what you did to Robert."

Now, Caroline was stretching her arms, preparing for yet another long day at school, nearly the last of the week. You hoped that this weekend would be far better than the last—which wasn’t a high bar. 

Bonnie slowly stirred beside you. You’d been jammed between them. While Bonnie slept soundlessly, hardly moving like a corpse, Caroline flailed her arms everywhere. She’d even smacked you a couple times, jolting you from your sleep. It wasn’t fun to have an arm fling into your nose—even less fun to dodge kung fu between the moon’s movements—but you didn’t complain. She was sleeping peacefully. There were no tears or whimpers. No broken whispers or shouts. What more could you want? 

“Y/N...” Bonnie murmured, then lifted her face from a pillow, brushing her curls aside. The three of you had devised a system: each of you took turns using the bathroom, ensuring no one would run late. You’d offered to go first, giving the girls a few minutes of rest. 

“I know,” You mumbled. “Getting up.”

You slid out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn. You probably looked like a mess. Everything felt sore. 

It wasn’t just Caroline’s sleep-fighting. It was the lake. Thinking about it made you shiver. You’d been close, so close, to letting it consume you. You didn’t know how to tell Holly. Bonnie hadn’t said anything to you, so maybe she hadn’t connected the dots. Your secret was scribbled on the pages of your diary, locked between pages of lies and emotions. But it wouldn’t leave your head. 

You turned the knob, prepared to splash your face with a cold dose of sink water. But when you opened the door, you were standing face-to-face with a wide-eyed Vicki Donovan. Her golden hair was wild and untamed. She wore an oversized, inside-out T-shirt. A toothbrush swung from her lips. You didn’t know who looked more shocked—you or her.

You balled your fists. “What the hell, Vicki?”

 You’d tried to leave your violence behind. You’d tried to change—you thought that she had. But seeing her, standing there in that walk-of-shame manner made your vision go white-hot. Memories of that day flashed in your head. 

You remembered coming home to this exact scene. You’d opened Jeremy’s door after a clumsy knock, trying to apologize. Your parents’ deaths were still fresh in your mind. You’d suffered a month of nightmares and blame, but you wanted to make amends. 

You’d expected to stare into the furious eyes of an angsty teen. Instead you saw a girl scrambling to pull jeans over her black lacy underwear. Jeremy looked at you like he’d been caught committing a felony. He shouted something—probably for you to leave, maybe berating you for invading his privacy.

But Vicki. 

Vicki. 

She hastily put on a shirt, not even bothering to find her bra, which had been flung over Jeremy’s gaming desk. Her eyes met yours, clouded with shame. “Y/N,” She’d said with a nervous chuckle. “I was…I didn’t mean…” She glanced at Jeremy, then at the door behind you, fumbling to explain. “I was just leaving!” 

She hurriedly walked past. She’d been at the crown of the staircase when you grabbed her by the neck and yanked her backward. A shrill cry escaped her lips. Jeremy came running out, shouting for you to stop. But rage controlled your every moment. 

Vicki Donovan, your best friend…had been sleeping with your little brother? You should’ve known—the smell of weed on his shirt, the white powder you’d seen dotting his nose…the stash of pills he’d accidentally left in the bathroom. 

She’d given your brother drugs. She’d stolen his innocence. She’d taken advantage of a boy mourning his parents. 

You punched her in the jaw. She grunted, spinning to the side, gripping onto the railings for support. You hit her again. Then again. And again. 

Somehow, in that bout of anger, Vicki had found her way back to the stairs. The realization hadn’t hit until you heard a loud CRACKKKK. Her body lay limp at the edge of the staircase. 

Jeremy rushed down, his feet thudding loudly. Jenna had stepped out of her room to see the commotion, half-awake in a loose robe, her hair tied into a lousy bun. You would never forget the way she looked at you when she’d seen the blood tinting your knuckles, like she didn’t know who you were. You didn’t know either. 

But staring at Vicki again, you were about to become that person again. Vicki stumbled back. She knew it too. 

“Get the fuck out,” You spat. She flinched. Fear seemed to paralyze her. “I said get out!” 

She ran. 

In your reflection, your forehead was creased and your eyebrows drawn together. Your muscles were tighter than the lid on a pickle jar. You felt like a wind-up toy before the mechanisms sprung. Was this what Jenna had seen when you fought Vicki? Was this what Robert had seen when you…

You took a deep shaky breath—counting from three to six and so on. When the heat faded from your face, you marched downstairs, hands trembling, and made your way toward a humming Jenna. 

She’d been writing a college essay at the table. Her strawberry blonde hair cascaded neatly past her shoulders, falling  onto her olive-green blouse. As you told her what happened, her lips pursed uneasily. 

But she voiced no concerns and swiftly changed the subject to Logan Fell, her charming reporter ex-boyfriend who’d invited her to dinner during the Founders’ Party. You were glad one good thing had come out of that wretched night, even though Jenna insisted that she was only accepted the invite to torture him. 

You let yourself get distracted. It was better than getting swept away with anger. Even if a small part of you, the part that screamed at Damon and done those things to Robert, screeched to be heard. It hungered to see Vicki’s slack body sprawled on the floor, her golden hair matted with blood. 

Jenna’s voice pulled you to the present. 

“Have you heard from Stefan?” 

Your anger shifted. Stefan Salvatore....Mystic Falls’ resident bystander. “Not since he left that message a few days ago.”

Hi, um…Y/N, I, um…have something I have to do. I’ll, uh…explain in a few days.

But how could he? How could he explain that he knew his brother was a dangerous psychopath and had done nothing about it? For all you knew, Damon had set the fire that killed Katherine. Maybe Stefan knew about that too and stayed silent out of blind obligation, which as far as you knew, made him just as bad as his brother. 

“No,” You said crossly, aggressively pouring cereal into a bowl. You shoved a dry handful into your mouth, too angry to add milk. You hadn’t explained the full story to Jenna. If you had, then the news would inevitably reach Sheriff Forbes, which Caroline was very against. But if you had it your way, Damon would be sleeping on the floor of a jail cell. Jenna just knew the basics: that Caroline had a brief fling with Stefan’s older brother that ended very, very badly. She fully supported the consecutive sleepovers, as had Caroline’s mom and Bonnie’s dad. 

“Haven’t you called him?” Jenna asked. 

You slammed your fist on the counter and met her confused stare. “No. And I’m not going to either.” 

She raised her eyebrows at the sharpness of your voice. You could see the questions stirring behind those emerald eyes. What does Stefan have to do with his brother being a dick? Why are you so angry with him? What is your relationship to him? Did he do something to you? But she didn’t express them. Instead, she hummed. “And you’re okay with everything?” Everything meaning Vicki’s resurfacing and your week-long distance from Stefan. 

Her eyes followed you like a pesky challenge, scanning for any signs of impending violence. 

“I’m fine.” Your words carried venom but Jenna didn’t press. 

She simply nodded, saying “Okay then.” You didn’t entertain the comment with a snide remark. You just brushed past, leaving the barely-eaten cereal to stale. 

◇◇◇

If you could describe Caroline Forbes in one word, it would be denial. 

You couldn’t believe that Damon had reduced your sweet, bumbling friend into a puddle of desperation. As you leaned against your locker doors, Bonnie at your hip, you thought you’d seen a glimpse of your Caroline when she joyfully distributed flyers for the Sexy Suds Car Wash. The event was annually hosted by cheerleaders in collaboration with the band and football team. It was way too inappropriate to be an official school gathering, but garnered so much money that the school board did nothing to stop it. 

But so many secrets hid behind her vapid comments. Her popular girl smile shone brightly, but her eyes were unnaturally dim. 

“She’s in denial,” Bonnie said, frowning. You nodded, watching the head cheerleader drift through the halls, leaving a flurry of rose-scented flyers behind her. 

“Hey.” 

You eased off your locker, but every fiber of your being stiffened. Stefan stood before you, his hair slicked back, the buttons of his black shirt undone. Any other day, you would’ve made fun of him. You would’ve said something like “Who do you think you are? Dark Elvis?” But today, you were fraught with tension.

Stefan offered you a quick, awkward smile that didn’t meet his eyes. You grimaced. The last thing you wanted to do was look into those eyes. Beneath the misery and mirth was pure deception. 

An excuse stumbled past Bonnie’s lips. You didn’t react as she sped away, escaping the heat of fury that rolled off of you. You narrowed your eyes at Stefan and crossed your arms over your chest. He was the one to break the silence. “I’m so sorry I haven’t called,” He said. Gravity surrounded his words, but you didn’t let them pull you in. 

“No worries. I’ll live.” 

His expression remained apologetic. “I was…dealing with Damon.” He furrowed his eyebrows, bracing himself for your reaction. After what happened with Vicki, you refused to give him the satisfaction. Even though the D word triggered an unfathomable amount of rage within you. If you were holding a bundle of pencils, each splinter of wood would snap in your fist. 

“And did you?” You asked coldly. “Deal with Damon?” 

“Yes,” He nodded. “Yeah.” 

You faked a smile, anger simmering inside you, threatening to spill over. “For four days?” 

“You have every right to be upset with me,” He started, gazing into you with that intense look. You glanced away. “But can I explain it all to you? Please?” 

You scoffed. “I thought you would never be able to tell me.” 

You knew how the story went: a man falls into a lion’s den. The lion blocks the exit, so the man has to sweet-talk the lion out of the way. He will say or do anything as long as it means reaching that exit. His words will jumble, twist, and plead. But in the end, they will mean nothing. 

You wondered what elaborate story he’d cook up. If he would ever accept his role as the bystander who did nothing. He’d let your best friend become collateral damage in the sick, twisted mind games orchestrated by Damon Salvatore. There was no forgiving that. There was no explanation he could possibly give as to why he couldn’t stop his brother—his perfectly human brother with no fangs, no fur, no magic. He could’ve done something—anything. 

“I understand how this looks,” Stefan begged. You fixed your eyes on his ridiculous Dark Elvis-styled shirt, grinding your teeth. “Let me make this right for you.” 

You had to make a choice: be the dumb lion who let the man escape, or be the smart lion who got a free dinner. But when you met his gaze, the choice dissipated. Through tight lips, you sighed. “When?” 

“I gotta be home after school but the Grill? Around four o’clock?” 

“Whatever.” 

“Thanks.” 

Before you could respond, Caroline skipped to your side, a poster-grin sprayed on her face. “Stefan? Where’s Damon? He has some serious apologizing to do.” 

She laughed like it was the most normal thing ever. But you’d seen those sickening bite marks. There was nothing normal about it. Even facing the murderous vampire lurking in Mystic Falls would be better than facing a human sick enough to do those things. 

Your eyes wandered to her throat, which was wrapped in a silk scarf. Those bruises…had he sicced an animal on her? Cut her? You had so many questions but refused to ask Caroline while she was clearly struggling. 

Stefan looked uncomfortable. “He’s gone, Caroline.” The way he said gone gave you chills. And when Caroline asked when he was coming back, his response left you even colder. “He’s not coming back. I’m sorry.” 

He held her gaze, then met your darkened eyes, and left. You should’ve been happy. The sooner Damon disappeared from your life, the better. But what had Stefan meant? You couldn’t imagine that Damon would cheerfully agree to leave Mystic Falls without putting up a fight. So what had Stefan resorted to? Threats? Blackmail? A brotherly connection? 

Caroline stared at the empty space Stefan left behind, crestfallen. You rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. “This is a good thing, Caroline.”

She sighed, barely moving. “I know that,” She said. But it was more to you than herself. Caroline had always been boy-crazy. But she was always Caroline. The girl who carried way too much confidence for her own good, a blazing sun in a sky of stars. If a boy hurt her, she moved on. She turned her pain into charm and her losses into upgrades. Seeing her so…sad over that disgusting waste of space almost felt demeaning. 

You watched as Stefan as he disappeared down the halls, headed toward your classroom for the day. Since Mr. Tanner died, your classroom joined another while the school scrambled for a replacement. You didn’t want to go to class. You definitely didn’t want to meet Stefan at the Grill, the one place untouched by drama. Secrets spilled, but fun ones. Not clumsy excuses for why the guy you liked allowed the storm that was Damon to befall one of your closest friends. 

You looped your arm around Caroline’s. “Come on,” You said, smiling. “Let’s not worry about some dumb guys.” 

“Yeah,” Caroline said, her voice perky, a smile lighting her face. Days ago, you’d thought that Stefan may be on your path to happiness. But now you knew the truth: that no matter how this evening went, you could never be happy. You could never be okay. 

But you’d be damned if you let Caroline suffer the same fate. So widening your smile, you set down the halls, the confident blonde ambling beside you. 

next chapter: man of the hour

[ajesterwrites]

21. caroline's strife

summary: you dance with stefan. secrets tear you apart. you continue to spiral.

pairings: stefan salvatore x fem! reader

warnings: abuse, suicidal ideation (all the way at the end)

word count: 3.7K

previous chapter: history repeats

"WHAT'D WE MISS?" Damon asked as you joined Stefan and Caroline at a refreshments table outside.

Bright lights strung across the gazebo. The sun had long dipped beneath the horizon, and the distant moon took its place. 

"We were just chatting," Stefan answered casually. He raised a glass of champagne toward his brother.

Damon stared at the glass with razor-sharp focus, as if it'd been doused with poison. "No, thanks. I'll pass."

You didn't miss the way his jaw tightened. How dysfunctional was this family that they couldn't even accept drinks from each other without getting upset?

If what Damon had said was true—if he truly wanted to resolve his issues with Stefan—why was he so...stiff? Why did he seem to care so little? Was it possible that Stefan really had done everything that Damon said he did? Had he run because of shame, trying to forget his past, but Damon returned to taunt him with memories?

You hated to admit it, but it made sense. Just because Stefan had been terrible back then didn't mean he was terrible now.

Unless this was all a hoax...but why befriend you of all people? Was it because of your chance meeting in front of the bathroom? Did he perceive this as a sign that you could be his new target?

You drew a breath. You didn't even know the whole story. It was easy to accuse, hard to trust. But if trusting Stefan meant that you could get closer to him—and by extension, the truth—you wouldn't pass this up.

"Wanna dance?" You offered. You raised your eyebrows, giving him an exit.

Stefan smiled. "Absolutely."

The lack of hesitation did something to you. When he took your hand, sparks raced up your arm.

He guided you to the center of the gazebo. You were enveloped by dancers, but when he brought his hand to your back, nudging you toward him, it was only his touch that matter.

The light seemed to fall around you, like an invisible umbrella was suspended in the air. Your heartbeat drowned the sounds of music, laughter, and scattered conversations.

You lifted your arms around his neck like you'd seen the other women do. You hadn't taken the time to digest his outfit. On the way to the party, you'd been so wrapped in your worries and doubt. But now...his electric touch melted all of that away.

It felt so good to just...breathe.

"Stefan..." You cleared your throat. "There's a chance I might step on your toes."

"Is that why you wanted to dance?" He asked teasingly. "Revenge?"

A smile spread across your face. "You looked like you could use a getaway."

"Mm, is that what you are? My getaway driver?"

"Among other things," You giggled. His smile glowed brighter than the lights surrounding you. Stars swirled in his bluish-green eyes, which bore into your own eyes with a quiet hunger, as if he wanted to memorize every detail.

"Don't worry," Stefan whispered, pulling you closer. "Just follow my lead."

You swayed side-to-side, letting him guide you. Your mother had tried to teach you dancing lessons for events like these, but you couldn't be bothered to learn. Now you wished you'd paid attention, the same way you had to your father's diagnoses.

But with each turn, Stefan burned every shred of guilt. Suddenly, not knowing didn't bother you. Because it meant that you could learn...and you couldn't think of anyone better to learn with.

Holly had told you not to get this close. To anyone. Especially not to a stranger you'd met in the cemetery. But how could a stranger hold this much of your heart? How could a stranger see so deeply through the wall of clouded mirrors you'd set before you? How could a stranger's touch feel like a live wire, sparking and exhilarating, giving you a rush of danger and excitement all at once? How could a stranger's arms feel so wrong but so right?

You should've pushed him away.

You should've stepped on his toe or created some distance.

But you lost yourself in the rhythm of your bodies, pushing and pulling, turning and swaying. His eyes seemed deeper than ever. They pulled you in like a magnet, leaving you no choice.

You'd never been so glad to be so powerless.

"I, uh..." Stefan's voice was soft, barely breaking through the mist he'd left in your head. "I hope Damon didn't drive you too crazy."

The words took a moment to process. You hummed. Damon. Right. That was part of the reason you'd wanted to dance. You wanted answers. Needed.

You shook your head. You had to get a hold of yourself.

"No, actually..." You replied. "He apologized and explained why he is the way he is...said it went back to Katherine."

Holding your breath, you studied his reaction. “Hm,” He said thoughtfully. He offered a shaky smile, nothing more, and twirled you around.

You frowned. You didn’t think you’d ever met someone so stubbornly reserved. It should’ve comforted you—finding someone so similar to yourself. But this particular resemblance sent a chill down your spine. 

“Why don’t you tell me about her?” You asked, rubbing his shoulder. Tragedy and secrets—the two things that connected you. No matter the circumstances, he knew the stench of grief, how it stuck. Even holy water couldn’t rinse it off.

You didn’t want to know everything about him. You didn’t want him to know everything about you. You only wanted to wipe one foggy lens clean, to see through the walls he’d boarded up. To see enough to know that he could be trusted; that you hadn’t been so stupid that you’d pour your heart into him, just for him to rip it out. 

Was he the Stefan Salvatore you’d grown to care for beyond belief? 

Or was he another Dr. Blake? 

“What happened?” You pressed, your voice rising slightly, but never abandoning its tenderness. 

Stefan glanced away, breaking your mutual hold. “It’s not something I like to talk about.” 

You understood. You did. If someone asked you about the trauma center, you’d lose all motion in your limbs.

But the center…that was different. You weren’t a danger. Not anymore. And not to the ones you loved. But all of these details—manipulation, death, secrets that Stefan guarded like a lifeline…you needed to know if he posed a threat. And if so, how big?

He may not have know all of your trauma. But at least he knew you. Could you say the same for him?

“I get that,” You said. “I just want you to know that you can. I mean, I burden you with all of my drama, and I want you to do the same.” 

Stefan nodded. “I know. Thank you.” 

Pieces of a picture snapped in place. You imagined a scenario in which Stefan wasn’t a monster or master manipulator, but a victim. A boy who’d lost his parents, and then the girl he loved twice—once to his brother, once to death. The grief must’ve swallowed him whole. But he tucked that pain from sight, keeping it only to himself. He didn’t let anyone in. All he had was you. 

That was no way to live. 

A part of you hoped that he was the bad guy after all. You could live with that…but you couldn’t live with the thought of him being alone. 

“The truth is…” Your heart hammered in your chest. It was time for answers. Now or never. You allowed the words to flow before you changed your mind. “I don’t really know that much about you and I would really love if you opened up to me.” 

The gears in his head seemed to turn when he looked at you. Suddenly, you weren’t Y/N. You were a challenge.

He stopped in his tracks. You followed abruptly, then staggered back under his scrutinizing gaze. “Damon said something to you, didn’t he?” His tone was taut with accusation. Not toward you, but it stung nonetheless. Could he really not see that you were scared for him? Couldn’t he see that the fragmented identity he presented hurt like shards of glass under your bare feet? “He likes to play games and cause trouble, Y/N.” 

“This isn’t about Damon,” You insisted. “This is about you. Getting to know you. Look, you’re the mystery guy. And I like that. But with mystery comes secrets…and this thing with Katherine–” 

“Let it go,” He said sharply. “I…I don’t want to talk about it.” 

His words cut deep. You could barely control the hurt on your face, but it flashed to anger in an instant.

“I know your favorite color," You said, trying to keep your voice steady. "And your taste in music. I know that you like to read and write but…I don’t know you.” His gaze darted to you and away. “I don’t know your hopes and dreams for the future. I don’t know who you want to be, what keeps you up at night, why you’re the way that you are. If you lost someone that you loved…or if you hurt her.”

He tensed. But you continued. “And I know that we just met but if you don’t tell me anything, all I have is what other people tell me. And they’re not good things, Stefan. I don’t want to see you that way. So please. Tell me something about you—anything.” 

“Don’t you see what Damon has done here?” Stefan asked. You scoffed. Damon, Damon, Damon. Why did it always have to be about Damon? Why had he only hung onto the trail his brother had left behind, but not the pain accompanying your words? “He’s trying to get you to turn against me.” 

You shifted your gaze to the refreshments table. Damon was long gone, as was Caroline. But there were still plenty of drinks to drown in. “Well then,” You snapped, looking at the younger Salvatore. “I guess it’s working.” 

You stormed past him without another word, not noticing that Damon stood several feet away, watching you with a smile. 

◇◇◇

After the ordeal with Stefan, even a drink couldn’t help you. 

You’d spoken to Bonnie. She felt awful for “planting seeds of doubt” as she’d called it, but it wasn’t her fault. The conversation would’ve happened eventually, even without Bonnie’s intervention. Plus, you couldn’t fault her for trying to help a friend. 

Mrs. Lockwood had interrupted your lament session, asking about your family’s watch. Apparently, it’d been missing from the collection. You had one guess as to why that could be, but you were in no mood to jump from one argument to another. 

You did the first thing you could think of: find a private place (which, in this case was the powder room) and dial Holly’s number.

During the homecoming game, she was nowhere to be found. You’d only spoken to her once since and she apologized profusely, promising that next time she’d be available. You decided to put that vow to the test.

Three rings later, Holly picked up. You immediately spilled your guts to her. She offered you advice—something about overextending yourself, anchoring yourself instead of relying on others, and not being hypocritical.

You tried to listen but your brain refused. This wasn’t just about vulnerability. It was about trust. Damon had already proved that he was bitter and disloyal but people were multi-faceted. Stefan had proven that he had secrets…and Damon knew Stefan far better than you did.

The door creaked open. Heels clacked against the polished floors. You muttered a quick thanks and goodbye, then hung up. You shoved your phone into your purse, wheeling your gaze to the door. Caroline looked at you sparingly, then headed for the mirror. You braced yourself.

For the first time, the two of you were alone. This could be your chance.

 “Look, Care—” 

“I’m not talking to you,” She sneered, not even giving you a chance to make amends. 

“I just want to apologize.” You sighed. “You were right. I should’ve called or explained. I’m so sorry for abandoning you.”

Your eyes pricked with tears. Tonight had been an emotional rollercoaster, but this conversation with Caroline had been the most wild and nauseating.

She’d already had abandonment issues because of her dad. He’d discovered himself—but at the cost of his family. He got married and left the most important girls in his life behind.

You remembered the day Caroline had come to learn he was gone, leaving nothing but a clumsy apology and divorce papers on the kitchen table. He’d still called Caroline every now and then, invited her to stay with him and his husband during the summers. But you knew that fracture could never be healed. He’d done the unforgivable. And so had you. 

“I don’t deserve you,” You went on. Caroline leaned toward the mirror, applying lip gloss, pretending not to care. But you could see the tension in her shoulders. The brief moment her eyes shuttered with regret. “Caroline, you’re amazing. Okay? You—” 

You froze.

Your mouth hung open. “What the hell is that?” 

“What?” Caroline followed your gaze. A red mark punctured her neck. It was deep, surrounded by dried blood. You pulled the scarf from her neck. She slapped your hand away, but the damage was done. A long, jagged bruise went down her neck, like a wild animal had ravaged her repeatedly. 

“Nothing, okay?!” She snatched her scarf away and hastily tied it on.

Horror gripped you. “That’s not nothing!” You shouted. The image of that scar was ingrained in your mind. Even while dealing with vampires, you hadn’t seen anything quite like that. “Did somebody hurt you?” 

“No! Okay? It’s nothing.” Strained laughter followed her admission. She took a deep shaky breath and returned to her tube of lip gloss. “It’s just…my mom would kill me.” 

You stared at her sweater. You hadn’t noticed it before but…the purple mark beneath the white holey cardigan stuck out like a torch in the darkness. You didn’t give her the chance to protest. You tore her sweater down. Another bruise stared at you. But it wasn’t like the other one. It was a…bite mark? 

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Did Damon hurt you?” You asked, already knowing the answer. 

“No! O-of course not!” Caroline stammered. You reached for her again, but she jolted back. “God, just stay away from me, Y/N!” 

She pulled her cardigan over her skin and stormed away. Your skin was red-hot. Caroline hadn’t started wearing those scarves until she met Damon. That couldn’t be a coincidence. What else had he done to her? Your stomach capsized at the thought of him hurting your precious friend. 

You felt like such a fool. Every time you thought you’d seen a spark of humanity in him, you were acquainted with his current of sin.

He distracted you again. This whole time, he was turning your attention toward Stefan—when really, you should’ve been focused on Caroline. 

You clenched your teeth and charged for the door. He may have scored another point. But the games were officially other. 

◇◇◇

You found Damon relaxing under a gazebo, not a single care in the world. You wanted to grab him by the throat and squeeze until he saw stars.

When he saw you, he smiled smugly. You seized him by the collar and shoved him into the gazebo's posts, hoping he cracked something. A glimpse of shock rattled his mask.

“There is something seriously wrong with you!” You hissed. A few of the guests began to stare and whisper, but you could barely hear them above the angry thoughts droning in your head. In his face, every trace of arrogance was gone. “You stay away from Caroline or I will get straight to her mother! The sheriff. You got it?” You shoved him again for good measure. “Stay away from her!” 

You spun on your heel and stomped to the waterfront. Stefan stood at the edge of the lake, his hands in his pockets, staring ahead at the emptiness.

“Stefan!” You called. He slowly turned around. Your heel plunged into the ground with each step but you didn’t care.

If Stefan decided to never open up to you, that was his prerogative. You couldn’t trust Damon. And maybe you couldn’t trust Stefan either. But you would let that be your decision. You were no longer a pawn in Damon’s games, and neither was Caroline. 

“You were right!” You huffed, so wound in your rage that you couldn’t catch a breath. “I’m sorry. I take it all back. Damon is an evil prick and I never should’ve listened to him.” 

“What did he do?” Stefan asked, frowning. 

“There were bruises all over Caroline’s body!” You exclaimed. That nauseating scene would never leave you. “Bite marks! And he has her all confused and messed up in the head like—like some kind of Stockholm syndrome! And—” You took in his expression. It hadn’t changed at all. Fury molded into realization. “Why don't you look surprised?" 

“Um…” He blinked. “I’m handling it.” 

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Handling it?” You repeated. “He should be arrested! And you? How the hell could you let him hang around my best friend knowing what he’s capable of?” 

“Y/N…” His voice trailed off, like he was sifting his brain for the right words to say. “P-please. I…I don’t expect you to understand.” 

He grabbed your hand, trying to calm you, but you yanked away from his touch. “Understand what?” You snarled, nails digging in a closed fist. “That you’re a liar? That your secrets put my friends in danger?"

“Look. There are things that you don’t know. Okay?” He was deathly serious. But you were sick of the excuses and lies. You needed an explanation. Soon. Otherwise, you might be the one to end up in jail instead of Damon. “Things that I want to tell you but I can’t. And I may never be able to. And I just need you to trust me.” 

Trust? 

Trust?! 

“What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing?!” You screamed, unable to take this anymore. God, you had been so stupid. All this time, you’d been torn between trusting Damon and Stefan. Now the answer was clear. Neither of them were worthy. 

Stefan looked away. A second passed…and his eyes widened. “I’m so sorry,” He whispered. “I have to go.” 

He brushed past you, sparing you an apologetic glance. 

Just like that, you were a memory. Your anger was forgotten, swept to the side, as another priority took place. You didn’t even turn to see what had grabbed his attention. You were so angry you could scream. 

This was a mistake. All of it—befriending Stefan, inviting him to this stupid party in a moment of weakness, not ripping Caroline from Damon’s grasp sooner. 

Why did you think you could handle this? Having friends? Helping your brother? Being something other than this stupid, damaged girl? 

Your heavy gaze meandered along the lake. Moonlight reflected off its inky surface.

You could end this. You had alcohol in your system—the guests had seen your outburst. If you stepped into the lake now, everyone would think it was an accidental drowning.

Jeremy wouldn’t hate you anymore. Stefan wouldn’t pin you down with his lies. Caroline would have Bonnie to be her voice of reason. They would lean on each other. Sheriff Forbes would destroy Damon in an instant. 

This could all be over. 

One step. 

One step and this nightmare would end. 

You would never learn who killed Ryder or Mr. Tanner. 

You would never discover what Sheriff Forbes was hiding. 

You’d become a memory. A distant, floating memory. 

Only this pendant to remember you by. 

You stepped toward the edge of the lake.

Cold water rushed between your toes. You jolted awake, breath catching in your throat. What the hell were you doing? Did you just— 

“Y/N?” 

You slowly turned around. Bonnie gaped at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “Let’s go home.” 

You nodded, having no strength to argue. If she’d realized what you were going to do, she didn’t say anything. She simply looped her arm around yours and followed the lights hanging in the courtyard.

Many guests had gone. You must’ve been standing on the lake for a while. It was probably past midnight. You explained everything to Bonnie—how Stefan’s silence went beyond manipulation, and how Caroline had become collateral damage in the feud between him and his brother. By the time you finished speaking, she was as angry as you were. 

“I’m calling Caroline,” She decided, eyes blazing. She fumbled through her purse for her phone. You listened to the dials, mindlessly strolling through the lawn. Your eyes roamed the yard, searching for something, anything to anchor to. And that’s when you saw her. 

Caroline stood several feet away, her back facing you but her outfit unmistakable. Her sweater was smudged with dirt. Wet grass clung to her radiant skin. Her beautiful braided headband was completely disheveled.

“Caroline?” You whimpered. She didn’t move an inch. Without a word, you and Bonnie stumbled to her side. “Bonnie’s been calling you! Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” She said, her voice breaking. She trembled like a leaf. Her chest rose and fell like she was struggling to breathe. 

“Caroline, what happened?” 

“I’m fine,” She repeated, the same brokenness, like if she said it enough times, eventually it would ring true. She breathed in and out until she was hyperventilating, her words a flimsy string holding her together.

Bonnie looked at you, concern written all over her face. 

“You’re shaking,” You murmured, reaching for Caroline’s arm. This time, she didn’t pull away. “Caroline, what…” She continued to gasp, choking on her rising tears. You pulled her into a hug. 

“I’m fine!” She shouted. Bonnie wrapped her arms around the two of you. Caroline broke into sobs. Her broken cries echoed through the night, rippling through the lake where you’d tried to end things. 

Shame burned in your chest. Caroline was going through hell—and you were just going to leave her again, permanently. 

Never again. You had to stay. You knew what it was like to be left behind, to wonder what you could’ve done differently, anything to reduce the guilt that buried you alive. 

If you weren’t going to live for yourself, you had to live for her. For Bonnie. For Jeremy. For Jenna. 

And for answers.

There were monsters in Mystic Falls. One was a vampire. One was Damon Salvatore.

And you were going to stop them both if it was the last thing you did. 

Chapter 22: resident bystander

[ajesterwrites]

20. history repeats

summary: damon drives a wedge between you and stefan. in a moment of discovery, he sees something that he shouldn't.

pairings: stefan salvatore x fem! reader, damon salvatore x fem! reader

warnings: mentions of death, blood, drugs, typical tvd stuff

word count: 3.2K

previous chapter: the invitation

YOU STOOD before the Lockwood Mansion with Stefan at your arm, a wild flurry of thoughts spinning in your head. Your heels sank in the vibrant lawn. Each blade of grass was almost symmetrical. Charming smiles painted the faces of each guest, but each smile held secrets. You should know. You could be standing beside one of them.

Gossip was never your style. Sure, you were a teenager. And you were best friends with Caroline Forbes. You'd heard plenty of rumors, but you didn't just believe them. After all, people had said many things about you—it didn't mean they were true. That's why you tried to give Stefan the benefit of the doubt.

After the cemetery, you went home to get ready with Bonnie. And she'd told you something. Something that had been twisting in your mind all day, wrestling between being spoken and being forgotten.

It turned out Damon had told Caroline a story. And Caroline, being the girl she is, immediately told Bonnie...who told you.

According to Damon, he and Stefan both dated Katherine. That much, you'd already figured out. But then came news that you hadn't known: that Katherine chose Damon. And Stefan couldn't take it so he manipulated Katherine with lies to turn her against Damon.

You peered at Stefan. His eyes raked the room, absorbing the surroundings. The distant melody of a small orchestra wafted past the door. Busy chatter filled every corner of the house. In true Mystic Falls fashion, the mountain lion was forgotten. The deaths of Miranda and Grayson Gilbert—the cornerstones of your small society—were forgotten. Your new wounds were old news.

How could this town be so heartless?

Everyone around you seemed polished and clean. Glamor and suave replaced souls. You wondered if Stefan could be one of them—like the home of a hidden hoarder, beautiful to look at but filthy on the inside.

Stefan met your eye and smiled. You smiled back but averted his gaze.

"You okay?" He asked.

You hesitated. You didn't know the full story between Stefan and Katherine. This was your chance to ask him.

"About—"

"Y/N!" Mayor Lockwood suddenly emerged, shining a pearly white grin. "Come on in!"

He ushered you inside. Instantly, the air changed. The walls were a rustic yellow without a single scratch. Homestead furniture occupied every space. Warm lights glittered from chandeliers. Tall, vivid flowers sprouted from stone pots. Velvet curtains hung before decorated windows. Antiquated mirrors, candles, and champagne glasses gleamed everywhere. This place looked almost as old as Stefan's house.

Earlier today, the thought of attending this party with Stefan was exhilarating. But now...

You couldn't shake Bonnie’s warnings from your head.

You didn't know what to believe. Bonnie wasn't one to cause trouble. And Caroline always meant well. But Damon...he must've known that Caroline was a chatterbox. He must've known that the story would get back to you, even if you were on the outs. Which meant that best-case scenario, he was trying to drive a wedge between you and Stefan. Worst-case scenario, your arm was locked around a psychopath's.

Amongst the guests, Sheriff Forbes stood by the sliding glass doors, surveying the room. Even at the most boring party of all time, she was keeping an eye out for trouble.

"I'll be right back," You told Stefan, leaving before he could get a word in. You approached the wary sheriff, who lit up when she saw you. "Hi, Mrs. Forbes."

Sheriff Forbes pulled you into a brief hug. "I told you, call me Liz. We're practically family."

"Are there any updates on Ryder?"

Mrs. Forbes' smile faded. Her warm demeanor clipped into the manner of a jaded sheriff living in tragedy. She lowered her voice. "Why don't we talk about this after the party? You should have some fun, enjoy yourself."

"What did you find?" The words rushed from your lips. A knot tightened in your chest at the pity written all over her face. It was like the funeral all over again. "How did he die?"

Sheriff Forbes could hardly meet your eyes. "It was an overdose."

You'd thought that the confession would unravel the knot, but now it wrapped around your heart, constricting all that was left. That couldn't be true. Ryder sold drugs, yes. But after being admitted into the center, he was forced to stop. He'd barely touched them since, unless he was exchanging them in plastic baggies.

"Can I see his body?" You hated the slight crack in your voice. But right now, you couldn't ruminate on that.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Sheriff Forbes said hesitantly. 

“Why?” You asked, sharper than you intended. 

Sheriff Forbes sighed. “When he died, the mountain lion feasted on his remains.”

You kept your expression steady.

Sheriff Forbes was lying to your face. You'd seen the body. You didn't think you could forget how gray and swollen he'd looked. But why on earth would she lie about it?

The sympathy in Mrs. Forbes' eyes deepened. She placed a hand on your arm. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

And with that, she was gone.

◇◇◇

You didn't know when or how, but you found your way at the display table in the registry. It was in an isolated wing of the Lockwood Mansion that even the orchestra couldn't reach.

You were alone with your thoughts, items from the Gilbert family line, and Ryder's death.

Your family's watch wasn't anywhere to be found. You supposed Mrs. Lockwood had it among some other collection, but at the moment, you didn't care to ask.

Silver rings locked around black polyresin hands. Before them, a small white sign read ON LOAN FROM GILBERT FAMILY: WEDDING RING.

Once upon a time, you'd thought that you would marry Ryder. Not because you were hopelessly in love with him, but because you'd been convinced you were the only people who'd fully know each other. When Stefan came along, you'd felt...seen. Heard. Maybe even understood. The same way your parents seemed to click into place, like the universe had welded two halves whole.

But you were living in lies. Either Damon or Stefan was being dishonest. And worse, the town's protector was keeping secrets as well. You didn't know who to trust—and after Homecoming, when you'd thought that you saw Stefan's hand bleeding, you couldn't trust yourself either.

If only Homecoming had ended at the beginning, with the beautiful pendant dangling above your chest. Then, it was a special gift. Now, it was a cold anchor weighing you down.

Delicate hands grazed your skin. You gasped softly, caught by surprise, but knew that touch from anywhere. Stefan came to your side, a quick smile chiseled on his face. He frowned when he saw the ring display. "Your parents?" He asked, his voice low.

You nodded and glanced at those rings again. Gilbert. Everyone knew the name attached, but never the faces. The voices. The small prints they left on the world. One day, all of your pain would be just another grain of sand in an endless desert. You would die, just like the Gilberts before you. Nobody would remember you or Jeremy. The townspeople walked around, slinging expensive watches and ageless beauty, but they would be forgotten too.

Everything always felt like too much. It was strange thinking that one day, you'd be nothing at all. Just a name. Just a grave. Just dust beneath the ground.

"There's a lot of history here," You murmured. You snapped your head away, escaping the fog that invaded your head. You wandered around the room, soaking in all the other legacies and family names.

In the corner of the room, grungy and foxed paper was displayed against the wall. A list of names was sprawled neatly in blank ink, covering the entire page. There must've been dozens of names on this list. "Oh wow," You breathed. "It's the original guest registry."

Your eyes skimmed the paper, vocalizing each name in amazement until...

You blinked. "Does that say Damon Salvatore?" 

Above his name, another glowed. Stefan Salvatore. 

Alarm raced through your body. Your eyes shunted to Stefan, begging for an explanation. Panic flickered in his intense stare. You started to press him further when another voice cut through. 

“The original Salvatore brothers.” 

You and Stefan spun to face the source.

Damon Salvatore approached you with taunting, meaningful strides. Caroline followed his pace, offering a bright smile to Stefan. She wore a short gray dress and white cardigan. A shawl covered her neck, pinned with a matching fake flower. She'd braided her hair into a cute headband. Crystal balls dangled from her ears.

She looked beautiful. You wanted to tell her that. But when she saw you, her smile quickly vanished, and she acted as if you were invisible. You cast your eyes to the floor, then back at Damon’s cocky expression, and grit your teeth. 

“Our ancestors,” He continued, hardly noticing. “Tragic story, actually.” 

“We don’t need to bore them with stories of the past,” Stefan said, his gaze meeting Damon’s evenly. Stefan spoke with the same reservation he had at the dinner when Damon mentioned Katherine's death. Did he seriously not want you to know anything about him, even things that happened hundreds of years ago?

Your mind played tug-of-war between confusion and hurt. What if he really was toying with you? What if he'd just charmed his way into your life, getting to know you, but only ever meant to keep you at arm's length?

He'd sat with you in the cemetery. He'd given you that necklace. You couldn't forget the moment at the festival. You'd been so worried that you couldn't open your heart to someone else—and you couldn't. Never. But with each day, he saw another piece of you. That terrified you. But what almost terrified you even more? The realization that you'd never even see half of him.

Damon smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly gesture. It was a challenge. That elaborate story he’d concocted of Stefan being a crazy ex-boyfriend had to be another one of his games. But you couldn’t ignore how private Stefan was. He didn’t even want to talk about his family’s history. What else could he be hiding? What was lurking beneath his secret half?

“It’s not boring,” You spoke up. Stefan looked at you. “I’d love to hear more about your family.” He already knew so much about yours. 

Stefan turned back to his brother, who smiled arrogantly, like he knew the universe’s secrets, and was amused that everyone else walked around clueless. Before Damon could elaborate any further, Caroline piped in. “Well I’m bored,” She said. “I wanna dance. And Damon won’t dance with me.” 

Damon shook his head. “Mm-mm.” 

Your smile turned testy. “That’s not very gentleman-like,” You said. His gaze turned to you. He wasn’t offended at all, simply entertained. You wished he would choke on that amusement. “You won’t even dance with your date?” 

Without missing a beat, Caroline said “Can I just…borrow yours?” 

The question seemed innocent enough. You had no claim over Stefan. The two of you were just friends.

But you knew Caroline. Everything she did had purpose—even if it was petty, you knew better than to underestimate her. If she was trying to steal Stefan from you, she couldn't. Because he wasn't yours. You had both made sure of that. But your heart clenched at the thought of them dancing. Would he hold her close, rest his hand on her back the same way he'd done to you? Would they make excruciatingly intimate eye contact like they'd seen each other's beauty for the first time?

Of course not. You were being ridiculous—and even if you weren't, why should you care? You couldn't be in a relationship. Holly had already told you that several times and you knew she was right. Your therapist had unmatched intuition, the kind that would make you think she was psychic.

Besides, Stefan was so awkward and uncomfortable with human contact. Even if your nerves were slightly grated by the request, you were more concerned about his well-being. 

Stefan forced a chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t really dance.” 

“Sure he does,” Damon intervened in that mock-charming way. “You should see him. The waltz, the jitterbug, the moonwalk. He does it all.” 

You faked a smile, sensing that you’d been backed into a corner. You were already struggling with Caroline. You didn’t know if this was some twisted way of her getting revenge, but you decided to let her have it. “It’s up to Stefan,” You said simply, eye twitching, but a minuscule part of you secretly hoped that he would protest.

Unfortunately, he didn't. Caroline reached for his arm, grinning. “Well sorry, but I’m not going to take no for an answer.” 

As she pulled him away, Stefan glanced at you, his eyes shouting “Save me”. You mouthed a small “Sorry” and watched as he and Caroline weaved through the crowd outside of the room. Damon watched them go as well, unnerving satisfaction plastered on his ridiculously handsome features. Definitely a hoarder, you thought as he faced you once more. 

You’d been weak at the homecoming game. Running from the chaos, desperately searching for an escape. So desperate that you accepted one from Damon of all people. But now you wanted answers.

You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to the punch. 

“I want to apologize to you for…” He sighed. “Being such a world-class jerk. The other night when I tried to kiss you—there was no excuse. My therapist says I’m…acting out, trying to punish Stefan.” 

You narrowed your eyes. That did sound very therapist-like, like something Holly would say. But he'd disarmed you before. “For what?” 

“It’s all in the past. I don’t even wanna bring it up."

There it was. The classic Damon move: I'm going to keep bringing it up to get into your head, but then I'll pull back to maintain intrigue. You wondered what else was in the Damon Salvatore playbook. Did it include tears? You couldn't imagine someone like him crying, even if it was a tactic.

Then again, he'd lost Katherine. He must've cried then. The image of him mourning Katherine, tears falling from those strikingly blue eyes, shook your resolve. Sometimes, you looked at him...and you swore you could see an actual human being.

Not just Caroline's shitty boy toy or Stefan's shitty brother, but a person beneath the mask he'd carved for himself. A person who loved and lost, who laughed and cried. But then he'd look at you the way a fox eyes his prey, and the mask concealed him further.

"Let’s just say that the men in the Salvatore family have been cursed with sibling rivalry.” Damon tossed his index finger up, lazily pointing to the original guest registry. “It all started with the original Salvatore brothers. In the battle of Willow Creek.” 

You pursed your lips. You'd briefly learned about it in history class. Back when Mr. Tanner was alive...before that vampire, whoever they were, tore his life away from him.

The story was simple: In the 1800s, during the height of the Civil War, confederate soldiers fired on a church with civilians inside. It was one of their most shocking displays of violence, but it didn't end there.

“What the history books left out...” Damon continued, leading you to another display near the door. A small wooden building painted white, modeled after the church. “...Was that the people who were killed, they weren’t there by accident. They were believed to be unit sympathizers. Some of the founders on the confederacy side back then wanted them rounded up and burned alive.” 

You followed him to the model church. You lived in a southern state of America. Even if nobody liked to reminisce, these grounds were soaked with blood. Everyone loved to idealize the founders and their legacies, but many of them were unclean. Hearing that they wanted to keep slavery and were willing to massacre anyone with a sliver of humanity wasn’t surprising. Any treasure built on the blood of innocents was not a treasure worth carrying, even if it was worth trillions. And you couldn’t help but wonder what side your ancestors were on. 

Damon’s eyes wandered to the red doors of the church. A sharp cross was perched on a gray tiled roof. He looked beneath it. But it seemed to stand above his shoulder, inescapable. “Stefan and Damon had someone they loved in that church.”

His voice adopted a delicate edge. As he told the story of his ancestors, he almost sounded like he had at the dinner—impure motives, but a sincerity that you instinctively gravitated toward. Maybe it was his way with words. Maybe it was that he believed he spoke with emptiness, but you could feel the emotions drip from each syllable.

“And when they went to rescue them, they were shot.” You swallowed hard. Leaving the church, his eyes found yours. “Murdered in cold blood.” 

An involuntary chill passed through your body. Murder. Blood. Ryder. Tanner.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Robert.

You stiffened. No. You couldn't do this. Not now. Not in the middle of this party, surrounded by importance. Not in front of Damon, who'd already unraveled you before.

He regarded you with curiosity, intrigue shooting from sparks of duplicity. Suddenly, the two of you had equal footing on shaky ground. You had questions about him...but he had questions about you too. Whatever you did, you couldn't let him get those answers.

So you shattered the silence, using your words as a life vest. “Who was in the church that they wanted to save?” 

“A woman, I guess.” His eyes held an intensity, like he was trying to gauge your response. “Doesn’t it always come down to the love of a woman?” 

He tilted his head, as if trying to ask if you understood. You scoffed quietly. Of course. This was another one of his sick twisted mind games....right?

“Look…” You began, stepping closer. People put distance between things that they feared. You weren't afraid of him. He needed to know that. “I’m sorry that you and Stefan have this thing between you but I can’t get in the middle of it, Damon. I just…hope you two can work it out.” 

“I hope so too,” He whispered. Your frown softened. Either he was really good at playing this game…or he was ready to get benched.

You knew what it was like. Constantly fighting with your younger brother, hoping for reconciliation, but knowing that it was probably impossible. Sometimes the conflict seemed easier than the resolution.

Occasionally, the thought of leaving Jeremy alone drifted in your head like a feather in the wind. You tried pushing him away from his grief, but it only pushed him away from you. Would he be better off if you left him to his troubles and let him pull himself out when he was ready? Did you have it in you? To abandon him? To be his #1 enemy if it meant that he could save himself?

The thought of you two becoming like Stefan and Damon tore you apart.

“We should find the others,” You said, realizing that you’d been staring at Damon this entire time. A minute longer and Stefan might pass out from interacting with Caroline for too long. 

He held out his hand. You hesitantly accepted, reminding yourself that this wouldn’t be another homecoming situation, and beelined for the door. 

Chapter 21: Caroline's Strife

[ajesterwrites]

19. the invitation

summary: after dramatic encounters, you and stefan share a moment of stillness.

pairings: stefan salvatore x fem! reader, very BRIEF damon salvatore x fem! reader

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 2.2k

previous chapter: tiebreaker

A MOUNTAIN LION ATTACK.

That's what the news was calling it.

Everything that happened since you returned—Vicki's attack, the mangled drivers, even Ryder's death—it had all been chalked up to a wild animal.

You scoffed in disbelief as reporter Logan Fell broadcasted the deputy's findings. According to him, the animal had been caught this morning after attacking a local fisherman. Nearly everyone in Mystic Falls was rejoicing (minus Jenna, who was too busy loathing the reporter; apparently, he was the reason she'd first left town). Normally, you'd tease her as she turned off the TV.

But your gut stirred with dread.

Whoever this vampire was must've been good at covering their tracks.

"What are you doing with that?" Jenna suddenly asked, sitting at the table with a coffee mug in hand. In front of you was a wooden box, containing your father's watch.

"I went yesterday and got it from the safe deposit box," You explained. "Mom had told Mrs. Lockwood that she would loan it to the Founders' Council for their heritage display."

Founders' Day was a significant event in Mystic Falls, with several celebrations leading up to it. Normally, it was grand and fun, a hot balloon floating toward you, bound to whisk you away from a year of responsibilities. But this year, it felt imposing and dangerous, like it was trying to tear you away from the ground. Your parents had always played a major role in the anniversary. Celebrating without them just felt...grim.

You picked up your father's watch, inspecting it. It was a shiny gold thing, probably older than both of your parents combined. You'd polished it the same day you'd picked it up, and now you were waiting for Tyler Lockwood to retrieve it.

Unfortunately, Jeremy wasn't too happy about this. You'd already explained that it was a loan but he insisted that you were "giving it away." Yet another reason for him to hate you.

"That's a pretty necklace," Jenna said nonchalantly...a little too nonchalantly. She lifted her mug to her lips, concealing a smirk. "Where'd you get it?"

You glanced at the silver pendant nestled on your chest. "Um..." Your cheeks warmed. "It was a gift from Stefan."

"I didn't realize you two were official."

"It's not like that," You insisted. "He just wanted to thank me for encouraging him to try out."

"Whatever you say," teased Jenna. You looked down at your dad's golden watch, your face on fire. Normally, you'd consult Caroline for all things boy-related, but she'd been avoiding you like the plague since your argument at the Homecoming Game. It was driving you crazy but you knew she needed time. Her distance was merely the consequence of your actions. It was hard to be angry with fate and its ever-burning need for balance.

Suddenly, loud footsteps thudded down the stairs. Jeremy charged for the refrigerator without so much as a good morning. You bit your lip. You and Caroline weren't the only ones on the outs. Jeremy had hardly spoken to you since his fight with Tyler Lockwood, and it'd been over a week.

Your heart sank as you remembered the news segment. He'd probably heard about the body in the woods. It'd only be a matter of time before Jeremy connected the dots, and it was best that he heard it from you.

Jenna noticed the way you were eyeing him and cleared her throat. "Well, I'm going to stop by the Grill for breakfast. Anyone want anything?"

"I'm good."

Jenna nodded, gave you an encouraging smile, and headed out.

Jeremy hardly spared you a glance as he turned for the stairs, a spoon of yogurt dangled from his lips.

"Jeremy, wait!" You called. He faced you, a neutral expression hardening his face. "Um, I have to talk to you...It's about Ryder."

Jeremy groaned. "Look, if this is about those stupid pills-"

"No," You interceded, glancing away. Annoyance dimmed from his features. His eyes narrowed at you, weakened by dread. "Um..." Your voice was trapped in your throat. You gulped down your nerves. "At the bonfire, the police found a body. Then...before the festival, Sheriff Forbes interviewed me because..."

"No."

"It was Ryder." Your voice came out quick and strangled. You shut your eyes. You couldn't do this again. You couldn't meet his brown stare, blazing with accusations. Jeremy didn't say a word. You heard the squeak of a table, footsteps drifting further from you, and the hard slam of the front door. When you opened your eyes, he was gone.  

You stared at the motionless door. This was so much harder than you thought it would be, even harder than carrying this knowledge for weeks. Ryder was the only person to see all of you, monster and everything. And now he was gone. Taken by a senseless act of violence.

You'd now realized that Jeremy could've easily been in Vicki's position at the bonfire. You had been so close to losing him and hadn't even known. You imagined those being your last moments—staggering through the woods, reprimanding him, practically pushing him toward death. You'd only wanted to help. That's all you'd ever wanted to do. But you were the reason Jeremy was spiraling so far out of reach. Drugs were closest to him than you'd ever be.

Which meant that he was becoming more and more like Ryder every day, smoking and snorting and swallowing his pain away until there was nothing left but soulless smiles and an empty shell of the boy he used to be.

You couldn't bear the thought. You had to save him. Not just from becoming Ryder...but from becoming you. But right now, Jeremy didn't want saving. He didn't want you. He just wanted space. Every brick of hostility he dropped between you snapped into place with each passing day. You didn't know how to stop it. All you knew was that you could fight or run—and god, you were so tired of fighting.

So you left.

Your feet carried you down the sidewalk, across the streets, and through the town that was soulless and soulful all at the same time. You ignored the chill of the autumn wind and the shrieks of carefree children playing in their front yards. Cars rumbled down the road, spreading music and silence, joy and emptiness. The terrain beneath your feet changed from solid to shaky.

You returned to your environment.

And you approached the silver, ancient gates of the cemetery.

◇ ◇ ◇

You huddled against the blank tombstone, holding your journal to your chest. Thoughts dangled from the tip of the pen you'd tucked in your pocket. The fur on your aviator jacket hugged your throat, but no warmth could overtake the frigid air surrounding your parents' graves.

The last time you'd been here, you were harassed by a crow. But now, the yard was still. Birds flapped overhead, but they were clouds away. The leaves didn't rustle on branches or slow-dance across the grass. Even the sun seemed to quiet down, leaving only traces of its light, letting you mope in peace.

You appreciated it. Thoughts already buzzed loudly in your head. You didn't know if you could handle any more chaos. You gazed at the names permanently engraved in stone. That was all your parents would ever be. Dust beneath the ground. Names on a grave. Years from now, they'd be forgotten. Their home would be gone. The clinic would be gone. Why couldn't they live forever like that stupid watch, which fueled your brother's resentment?

You sighed. Life would be so much easier if you'd just drowned.

"Hey."

You flinched. Dark shoes appeared in front of you. The wearer watched you, frowning, concern glinting in his serious eyes.

Stefan.

You paused.

Ever since Stefan found you at the football game, seeking comfort from Damon—a temporary lapse in judgment that would never happen again—there'd been some distance between you. You weren't sure who created it.

Maybe Stefan was upset that you were cozying up to his brother, who seemingly wanted to make his life a nightmare. Maybe you were ashamed of your bad choices: entertaining a conversation with Damon, drinking his beer...your stomach flipped at the memory of your laughter, how he'd made you feel so free.

You hadn't felt like a major screw-up. You'd just felt like...you. The you who used to drink and party. The you used to dance on tables and feel on top of the world. The you who would stand in the back of a pick-up truck, zooming down the street, letting the wind catch your laughter, not knowing that such happiness would one day be limited.

Words hung on your tongue, trying to formulate a response, but your mind felt dulled by your encounter with Jeremy. You weren't in the mood to pretend to be okay. Not when all you could think about was burying yourself in the ground, making a home with your parents, and staying there. But with a vampire on the loose, a dead friend, and a brother headed toward destruction, you didn't have that luxury.

Stefan held your gaze. "How are you?"

You wanted to say "I'm okay. I was just leaving. I promise I don't spend all of my days being this pathetic." But you chuckled instead. It was hollow and uneven, but you couldn't bring yourself to hide it. "I feel like shit."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

You looked down at his shoes. They were in pristine condition. The outside was wiped clean. Not a single stain or hole in sight. But when he stepped closer, you noticed the dirt clinging to the soles. Like no matter how many times he'd tried to scrub it, it refused to leave him.

He sat next to you very gingerly, like you were a glass so fragile that even his presence could break it. The coldness's grip faded just a little. You didn't know what to say. You could ask to be alone. You weren't good company right now anyway. But you didn't want him to go. Your fingers twitched against your journal, seeking out connection but too afraid to reach for it.

His hand laid only inches away from yours, close enough to touch. Warm enough to feel. You wanted him to hold your hand the same way he had at that cursed dinner with Damon and your friends, even if that wasn't very friend-like of you.

"Was it the Donna Reed thing?"

You couldn't help the soft breezy laugh that escaped you. "Totally," You said.

Being with him somehow always made things...easier. With Damon, you could tiptoe the line between reality and forgetting. But with Stefan, it almost felt like you could handle Jeremy's distance; Ryder's death; and the Founders' Party, the awful reminder that your parents could never expand their legacy, and like your ancestors, they'd become one with the soil.

"How can I help?"

You faced him. His eyes searched yours—for what, you weren't sure—but you didn't let him find it. You forced a smile. "Suffer with me at the party tonight."

It wasn't an invitation. Not really. But you'd realized that you had to say something. Anything was better than sitting here, paralyzed and quiet. Your mask had slipped. But now it was time to play the part.

"Is this a date?" He asked lightly.

You scoffed, heat rushing to your cheeks. "Are jokes illegal outside of Mystic Falls?"

"So you don't want me to go?"

You faltered. Wait...was he being serious?

"Stefan," You laughed, but it didn't sound as unrestrained as you would've liked. "Did you actually want to go?"

"Well, the Salvatores don't get invited anymore," He admitted. "But I can always attend as your date."

Date. A strange flutter rippled through your chest. You and Stefan...on a date? After he'd given you the necklace? (Which you were still very confused about, by the way). You supposed there were no rules against hanging out with friends. It was just a small, platonic get-together...in an intimate setting...where you'd both flaunt elegant clothing...and dance to romantic music.

You shook those thoughts from your head. "Honestly, Stefan, it's so boring that a newly awakened coma patient would go back to sleep. You don't have to come."

"I would be honored to accompany you, Miss Gilbert." His hand brushed against yours. At his soft touch, your breath caught in your throat. If he noticed, he didn't say anything. He just gave you that kind smile, his eyes glittering like he'd stumbled across a mountain of jewels. You half-expected him to kiss your hand the same way Damon had done. Except this time it wouldn't be disarming or sly. Just...cute.

"Then the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Salvatore." Your smile was crooked, but it was real.

His soft laugh echoed through the cemetery. "Well," He murmured, his tone a mix between teasing and flirty. Your index finger traced your notebook, leaving invisible circles. "I shall see you there."

You bit your lip to keep your smile at bay. "You shall," You agreed, your voice light and airy.

You weren't okay. Not by a long shot.

But there in the stillness with Stefan by your side, maybe—just maybe—someday you would be.

Chapter 20: history repeats

[ajesterwrites]

18. tiebreaker

summary: damon catches you in a vulnerable moment.

pairings: damon salvatore x fem! reader

warnings: mention of death

word count: 1.8K

previous chapter: game night

YOUR BREATH WAS SHALLOW as you climbed into the SUV. You swallowed hard, struggling to hold back your tears, and slammed the door shut. The whole van shook. You stared ahead at the empty parking lot, your mind racing from this night's events. Everyone was still at the stadium, probably summing up Tyler's outburst to typical Timberwolf aggression, and carrying on with the game. Meanwhile, you were trying not to cry your eyes out.

You rifled through your purse for your phone and scrolled through the contacts until you found her name.

Holly.

You tapped on her name. Her number dialed painfully slow. "Come on, come on," You whispered desperately. "Please pick up."

Click. "You've reached Dr. Holly Bernard. I'm afraid I can't get to you but please leave a message and—"

"FUCK!" You screamed, throwing your phone against the dashboard. Nerves prickled your face, your heart ached, and your gut felt like it'd been sucker-punched by Mike Tyson.

Jeremy hated you. Caroline hated you. Bonnie would probably hate you too once she heard more of Caroline's perspective. Hell, even Stefan must've been regretting giving you that necklace.

You'd hurt them more times than you could count. Maybe you deserved to be alone. Maybe you deserved what happened to you in the trauma center. It'd only revealed what you'd always known: you were a shitty person not worthy of redemption. No one should be wasting tears over you. You wished you could fade away and give everyone the peace they deserved.

Knuckles tapped against the window.

You wiped your tears and looked up.

Damon waved at you innocently, but didn't even try to conceal his smirk. This was the real him. Not that good-natured, laidback, caring brother persona he'd projected at dinner. You scoffed. Unbelievable. God, he just didn’t quit.

Wordlessly, you flipped him off with both fingers and turned away.

He knocked again. With an exasperated sigh, you rolled down the window. “What?” You snapped.

“You look like you could use some company," He said smoothly.

The sheer audacity of people never failed to surprise you. "You know, usually when a woman slaps you, it's because she doesn't want your company. So thanks. But I'll pass."

“Oh come on…" He coaxed. You made the mistake of looking into his infuriatingly charming blue eyes. "I promise I don’t bite."

You stared blankly at him. Why did he always speak like he was trying to seduce you? And couldn't he read the damn room?

Before you could fire back a snappy retort, he help up a bottle of Budweiser. “I brought beer.” 

Reluctantly, you accepted the bottle. If this was Damon's idea of a peace offering, it was a useless gesture. But after the night you'd had, you longed to drink your misery away, though your mind whirled with suspicion. How convenient was it that he happened to have an unopened bottle of beer right on hand when you needed it most—assuming it was unopened?

You burned your hand twisting that damn cap off. At least you knew he hadn't spiked it. You raised the bottle half-heartedly just to be polite (which he definitely didn't deserve), and gulped it down. The sweetness danced on your tongue and burned your throat, but you didn't stop until the taste of liquor overwhelmed your urge to cry.

“Woah, easy there!” Damon laughed. 

You dropped the bottle from your lips and exhaled.

You hadn't had a drink since the night of the bonfire. When Vicki was attacked...and Ryder died. You decided that if you thought of him again, you'd raid Jenna's liquor cabinet when you got home.

Damon leaned on the car door, watching you intently. Your throat stung, leaving a warm and buzzing sensation, but at least your eyes didn't. "So..." Damon drawled, a seductive edge to his voice. You rolled your eyes. “Y/N Gilbert…defender of friends, drinker of beer….” 

“E,” You corrected. Damon squinted his eyes, puzzled. "If you're going to say my full name, you may as well get it right. It’s Y/N E. Gilbert.” 

“Your middle name," Damon realized.

You nodded. “It’s Elena. It means light.” Ironically, you could use some light right about now. “What’s yours?” 

He chuckled like it was a silly question. You stared at him expectantly, not letting down. He must've seen this as an "in" because a few moments later, he sighed. "Francesco," He admitted.

“Damon Francesco Salvatore," You enunciated. You couldn't help but laugh. That was the most Italian name you'd ever heard. "Wow. It has a nice ring to it.”

Damon scoffed.

“What? I'm serious!” You giggled. A smile lit up your face. Later, you'd blame it on the alcohol. “Thanks for the beer.” 

“Any time.” 

“What’s going on here?” A sharp voice cut in. You and Damon both looked up. Stefan was charging toward the van, his expression hard with disapproval. It was so unlike his usual smile around you. His eyes darted at the bottle in your hand, then to Damon's smug face. “Y/N, did he give you that?” 

And just like that, you remembered where you were…and who you were with. Oh, Caroline was going to be pissed. You hadn’t meant anything romantically, obviously, but talking to him after telling her that Damon was an ass? You were sure to lose friendship points.

God, why did you keep messing everything up?

Damon sighed, irritated, and eased off the door. “Relax, brother. A little drink never killed anyone.” 

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah, he did,” You said after realizing that Stefan was ignoring his brother. “But it’s fine. I probably needed it.” 

“I thought you said you wanted to be alone.” 

“I do," You replied, glancing away. You should've peeled out of the driveway the second Damon slithered in like the snake he was. "I'm gonna go. See you tomorrow?”

Stefan nodded, still glaring—but you were pretty sure that look was for Damon. “Yeah.” 

Against your better judgment, you eyed Damon. He regarded you with mischievous eyes like he knew where you'd look. You sighed quietly. “Good night, Damon.” 

He smirked. “Good night, Y/N.” 

With one last look at Stefan, you revved up the engine, pulled out of the parking lot, and rode home.

Admittedly, your hands shook the entire time.

And it took about half an hour to get there—even though there was barely any traffic and the house was ten minutes away—but you were relieved that you made it home in one piece. And that a deputy didn't pull you over to request your license. Or make you take a breathalyzer test.

When you arrived at the house, Jenna was busy running around frantically and burning a pot of macaroni and cheese in the kitchen. At least the smell of smoky—well, everything—would mask beer on your breath.

Jenna blew hair out of her face and spun to face you. “Where’s Jeremy?” 

“He didn’t come home?” You asked, frowning.

"No..." Jenna replied. He hadn't taken the SUV to the game. Come to think of it, you didn't know who had brought him. You'd been so excited to tell everyone that you'd dropped cheerleading for the art club that Jeremy being at the football game hadn't even crossed your mind. At least, not until he got pummeled by Tyler Lockwood and almost killed Stefan.

Guilt tugged at your chest. How could have you let yourself be so happy that you forgot about your own brother?

Jenna narrowed her eyes and put a hand on her hip. "Why isn’t he with you?” 

“Ask him when he gets here,” You muttered, brushing past her. Drinking on an empty stomach was a rookie move, and you didn't want to explain to Jenna that you were one step away from vomiting on the floors. Between the beer and all the stress, your body was too weak to support you. And passing out in your room was better than passing out on the kitchen floor.

“Wait– Y/N–” Jenna practically tripped running in front of you. “What’s going on with you? Bonnie called asking for you. She seemed upset. And Sheriff Forbes called as well—said something about a fight involving Jeremy?” 

You pinched your forehead. “Um, yeah, he…I punched Tyler Lockwood.”

Jenna's jaw dropped. “You did what?” 

If Jenna knew the truth, the burned dinner would be the least of her worries. The last thing you wanted was to stress her further, but Jeremy was out of control. At least you had a grip...kind of. If Jenna thought that you were responsible for the fight, she wouldn't be as overwhelmed, knowing that you were reasonable, somewhat obedient, and likely wouldn't do it again.

“And Jeremy wanted to defend me so they got into it,” You added.

Jenna started at you, her mouth still agape. “Okay, just so we’re clear…Tyler Lockwood, Vicki’s boyfriend? And Matt’s best friend? The kid you punched in the second grade?” 

“That would be the one,” You mumbled, looking away. Everyone thought you'd done it because he rejected you. Really, it had been because he passed your love letter around the school, purposefully humiliating you. So you broke his nose in front of the entire school, purposefully humiliating him. Checkmate.

“Y/N, what were you thinking?" Jenna pursed her lips disappointedly. "Do you know how much trouble you could get into?”

You glanced at the floor. “I know.” 

Jenna exhaled. You almost felt bad for lying. But she'd be stressed either away. At least this way, you could minimize the damage. “Are you gonna ground me?” You asked quietly.

“No, I just…" She sighed again. "You’re a good kid. But…what happened with Vicki was bad enough. This can’t be a pattern. Do you understand, Y/N?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry.” 

“That’s not all.” 

Her voice was strained, like it took everything in her to stop it from wavering. You frowned. “What is it?” 

“Um…your history teacher…Mr. Tanner.” 

“Yeah, what about him?” 

Jenna hesitated. “He's dead.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“The sheriff is saying it was an animal attack. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”  She reluctantly pulled you into a hug, but you stood still, frozen in shock. You feared that one movement would send you to the floor. But if you couldn't even pull yourself together by a comforting embrace, Jenna would know something was wrong and spiral even further into self-doubt. So you swallowed hard and slowly returned the hug.

Everything suddenly became clearer.

You'd written Vicki's accident off as an animal attack, but you couldn't deny the truth any longer.

Nothing seemed right—the two college kids mauled in the road on the first day of school, Vicki's attack at the bonfire. You'd thought that Ryder was responsible. But he was dead. There was no way he could've killed Mr. Tanner. This could only mean one thing.

There was a vampire in Mystic Falls.

Chapter 19: the invitation

[ajesterwrites]

17. game night

summary: damon reveals his true intentions. jeremy has an outburst and caroline finally snaps.

pairings: damon salvatore x fem! reader, brief stefan salvatore x fem! reader

warnings: mild violence

word count: 2.4K

previous chapter: the necklace

author's note: just a gentle reminder that I accept all forms of constructive criticism

IN JUST AN HOUR, the sun had disappeared.

You sat at the bottom of the bleachers, surrounded by screaming supporters. Coach Tanner's voice blared through the speaker, rallying the crowd by promising to crush the opposing team. Then he congratulated his new star player, eliciting even more whoops and cheers. Stefan stood among his teammates in a unified line. In response to the applause—and a few curious looks from his fellow players—he forced a humble smile.

You gazed at him, your hand instinctively reaching for the necklace. You'd just gotten it an hour ago, and now it felt as a part of you as your own heart.

Unease rushed over you. If this gesture was romantic...you couldn't stand the thought. And not because you didn't feel...something for him. It was because you did. It was selfish. Stupid.

You couldn't afford to get that close to someone. And Stefan had been through so much. If he saw how distant you truly were, it'd only hurt him more. You needed to sever these semi-romantic ties before it trapped you both. But how could you when your new silver heart made your real heart flutter?

Sighing, you rose to your feet and weaved through the crowd. The game hadn't started, and maybe a quick walk to Jenna's SUV would ease your nerves. Besides, you hadn't eaten much today. That dream you'd had of Ryder and Damon the night before had shaken you more than you cared to admit.

You rummaged through the trunk until finally, you settled on a bag of chips. You slammed the trunk shut and turned to leave—only to find yourself mere inches away from Damon Salvatore. Your soul jumped from your body. His electric blue eyes widened teasingly, as if trying to bewitch you. You frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Damon leaned in like he was telling you a secret and whispered "I'm hiding from Caroline."

Your frown deepened. "Why?"

"I needed a break," He shrugged. "She talks more than I can listen."

"That could be a sign," You said, scowling. What an asshole.

"Well she's awfully young."

If you weren't confused before, you definitely were now. "Not much younger than you are."

Damon chuckled. "I don't see it going anywhere in the bigger picture. I think she'd drive me crazy."

The way he said it, reeking with arrogance, like you were just going to agree made your body blaze with anger. Caroline was many things—a complete chatterbox, for sure, and she could be kind of tactless—but she was a great person and a wonderful friend. You wouldn't trade her for the world. And she was so into Damon—she was wearing scarves to "try something new" which was definitely code for "Damon likes it when I wear these so now I'll wear them forever." And here he was, talking about Caroline like she was some sort of pest. As if he hadn't pursued her. And if he disliked her so much, why did he go on a sort-of double date with her just last night?

"I'm sure you understand," Damon went on.

You scoffed in disbelief. "If you really feel that way about her, then maybe don't be a dick and stop leading her on." He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off. "Caroline and I have been best friends since the first grade, and maybe you don't understand because you're too busy terrorizing Stefan, but that means something to me."

"Duly noted," Damon said coolly. "I'm sorry if I offended you, that's not my intention."

You scoffed again. "Yes, it is. Otherwise, you wouldn't put an alternate meaning behind everything you say."

Damon smiled, his eyes soulless and calculating. "You're right," He mused. "I do have other intentions. But so do you."

"Really?" You glared at him. Right now the only intention you had was to slap that arrogant look off his face.

He hummed in agreement as if he knew everything about you. "I see them." He leaned forward, his smirk deepening. "You want me."

You'd never scoffed so much in a single conversation. "Excuse me?"

"I get to you. You find yourself drawn to me. You think about me when you don't wanna think about me. I bet you've even dreamed about me."

You hated to admit it, but for a moment, your scowl cracked. Flashes of the dream invaded your mind. That sly look he'd had in his eyes when you'd pulled away from him...

You gazed at Damon, locked in place. How did he know? How could he see through you like that?

"And right now..." His voice was buttery and smooth, trying to slither his way into your mind and disarm you. "You wanna kiss me."

He leaned in, smirking, eerily similar to how he had in your dream. Like he'd been thinking that you'd wanted to be held, undressed, and kissed by him—not Ryder—all along.

That's it. Your palm struck his face faster than you could comprehend. He slowly turned his face to yours, and you hoped the slap was as jarring as it felt. That stupid smirk was gone completely. You stepped closer to him, giving him the exact distance that he craved, and looked him dead in the eye. "I don't know what game you're trying to play with Stefan here, but I won't let you pull my friends into this. And I don't know what happened in the past, but let's get one thing straight: I am not Katherine."

You stormed off, your palm stinging, and didn't dare look back.

~

You were still steaming as you joined the crowd at the bleachers. Bonnie caught your eye from across the field and waved enthusiastically. You returned a huge smile, but it quickly vanished as soon as she looked away. You couldn't believe what Damon had done. Using Caroline? Trying to kiss you?

Memories of your first meeting sharpened in your mind. His weird staring contest with Stefan, how he'd seemingly tried to drive a wedge between you and his brother by mentioning Katherine, the way he'd kissed your hand with ulterior motives. He was toying with you. He was trying to get under his brother's skin. That's why he'd crashed the dinner.

Caroline could talk for ages—it couldn't have taken much to convince her to agree. She probably didn't even know what his intentions were.

You huffed. How had you seen anything human in him? You thought you'd had a heart-to-heart in your kitchen, but that was impossible. Damon didn't have a heart. He was a callous, spiteful asshole who saw pawns instead of people. You were all just pieces in a game he'd concocted to beat Stefan. Last night, you'd played along. But him trying to kiss you behind Caroline's back was your last straw.

Just as you felt the urge to scream, a sharp CLINKKK ripped you from your fury. Your blood turned to ice. The last time you'd heard that sound...ceramic crashing against iron bars. Chamomile splashing against the cold ground. Your shrieks when in the sweetness, you'd tasted something else—something thick, metallic, and...red.

"TYLER!" A girl's voice screamed. Vicki. Your head snapped toward the sound. But through all the red clothes, accessories, and pompoms, it was nearly impossible to see anything. Her next words made your heart pound. "Stop, you're hurting him!"

You pushed through the crowd, ignoring the dirty looks and sneers. Your brain latched onto Vicki's cries like it was a string pulling you to the scene.

"Enough, he's down!" Another voice shouted. Stefan.

You zipped across the field, running on pure instinct and adrenaline. A horde of people had crowded around the scene, desperate to get a view. You shoved them all aside until finally...

You stopped in your tracks. The color drained from your face. Jeremy was laying on the ground, blood trickling from his lips, smearing his face. Tyler stood over him. His eyes were wide and enraged, aimed at Stefan, who was trying to intervene. But all you saw was red. Literally.

How dare he make your brother bleed?

You surged forward, determined to give him a taste of your fist, when you noticed Jeremy flip onto his stomach. You hadn't even seen him grab the bottle—but suddenly he jerked to his feet. Everything happened so quickly, you couldn't tell who had done what—someone had thrown a punch, someone had spun around, and you thought you'd caught a glimpse of Matt's blond hair—but in only a split second, Stefan's hand had taken the brunt of the bottle, and Tyler Lockwood was on the ground. Warm, thick blood splattered on your arm. Your stomach churned. But then you remembered where the blood had come from.

"Stefan!" You rushed to Stefan, your heart in your throat. He curled his hand into a fist like he didn't want you to see the damage. But you had seen it. And it made you sick.

“Raven!” Bonnie and Caroline screamed in unison, running toward you.

“What just happened?” Caroline exclaimed, her eyes hysterically darting around the field. Somehow, in all the chaos, Matt had intercepted, and was shoving Tyler away before he could do more damage.

“Tyler,” You responded, not tearing your eyes away from the wound. “Let me see your hand. Seriously, how bad is it?” 

"I'm okay," Stefan said calmly, but it only made you panic more.

Your head whipped toward your brother, his wild eyes all too familiar. You stepped closer to him, your lips parted in shock. Your nose burned with the stench of liquor. "Are you fucking crazy?" You exclaimed. "You could've killed him!"

"Well, I didn't," Jeremy muttered, shoving past you. You grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

"You hurt Stefan!" You shouted. "He was only trying to help you!"

"I didn't need his help!"

"So you stabbed him?"

"I'm fine," Stefan assured you. "Really."

You gripped his hand. "No, look at what he did to your hand!"

You pried his fist open and gasped.

The blood...it was gone. There was a faint reddish stain where the blood was supposed to be. But it was like nothing had happened. You looked up at him, frowning. "What...but...you were bleeding-"

"It wasn't mine."

"I saw it!"

"It's not my blood," Stefan swore, a strained smile on his face. "He missed."

He wiped his hand on his dark pants. You tried to think. The only ones close enough to draw blood were him, Jeremy, and Tyler. But Tyler hadn't been bleeding...had he?

You swallowed hard and pinched your forehead, rubbing your temple so hard that your skin might peel off. Panic flared within you. The stadium lights overhead seemed to swirl.

After Jeremy saw that he hadn't hurt Stefan after all, he scoffed. Like you were just some liar making up stories to make him feel bad. "First Vicki and now this," Jeremy grumbled.

"If you don't want sympathy, fine, but at least apologize!"

"It's alright," Stefan said gently.

"Well someone's blood is on me!" You shouted, frustration searing your insides.

"That's nothing new," Jeremy hissed and stormed off. Your sifted through your memories. No. This couldn't be right. You paled. Stefan getting cut was so vivid in your mind. Which meant two things: either he was lying or you were hallucinating. You weren't sure which explanation was worse.

You'd conveniently wiped the blood on your clothes, which were so deep red that you had no way of knowing if blood was on it—at least, you thought you wiped it on your clothes.

"Y/N...what's he talking about?"

You slowly turned around. Bonnie and Caroline were staring at you. Bonnie's eyes were as wide as saucers. Caroline frowned, as if finally seeing you for the first time. Her voice quivered. Fear spasmed in her narrow blue eyes.

"What happened with Vicki?" Bonnie asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper. She looked at you like she'd seen a ghost.

Vicki stood several feet away, her eyes glistening with tears. She looked at you frantically and started to explain, but no one looked at her. All attention was on you.

You shrank beneath their gazes. The horror. The confusion. You'd seen those faces before—on Jenna, Jeremy, and....Ryder.

Under the spotlight, you were swept away in a current of images. The blood you were sure you'd seen on your arm….your mind flashed to the car accident…blood floating in the water…beating Vicki to a pulp until she was coughing off blood…blood splashing on your white hospital gown. “Y/N?” 

"Y/N..." Stefan called out tenderly. He must've seen the panic on your face. You barely heard him over the pounding of your heart.

Your friends' gazes burned into you, demanding answers. Immediately, your brain went into overdrive, trying to think of anything—anything at all—to stop them from probing deeper.

"You need to break up with Damon." The words flew out before you could stop them. Maybe a part of you didn't want to. Caroline blinked out of her shock. Your shame slowly dissolved, but when her confusion morphed into hurt, regret slammed into your gut like a ton of bricks.

"What?" Caroline's voice cracked. Your stomach twisted.

"Care, he's not good for you," You urged, trying to keep your voice steady. "You deserve so much better and-” 

"Just stop."

"Caroline—"

"At least Damon actually wants me around!" Caroline shouted. You pleadingly glanced at Bonnie for support, but she was spaced out, ruminating on Jeremy's outburst. “Admit it, Y/N! You just want us to need you!” 

“That’s not true–” 

“Yes, it is!" Caroline shouted." It’s why you left, isn’t it?”

“I…" You tried to speak but your words faltered. How could you be so stupid? To abandon your friends and expect them to forget? You knew you deserved it—every yell, every insult—and when you'd first come back, you'd wanted Bonnie to hate you. But now that it was happening, your heart tightened in your ribcage. "Caroline...no-” 

“Even Vicki knew you were going," Caroline said bitterly. Angry tears sprung in her eyes. "Vicki. Bonnie and I are your best friends and you left without saying a word. Do you have any idea how that felt? I tried to be understanding because I knew you were going through Hell but I was worried sick about you! Bonnie was losing her mind!” 

“I-I didn’t mean–”

“You didn’t mean what?" Caroline snapped. You stepped back. "To abandon us for the entire summer? Because that’s what you did. And when you came back, we had to find out from your little brother.” 

“I know," You whispered, your eyes clouded with shame. "I messed up. I just…I didn’t know how to approach you. I thought you would’ve moved on-” 

“Moved on?” Caroline repeated, her voice sharp with disbelief. “How could you think we’d just move on?” You had never seen Caroline look so hurt and angry, not even when her dad had suddenly moved out with no warning. Your words failed you. You stood there, frozen in a stunned silence. Caroline scoffed and shook her head. Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Bonnie peered at you sympathetically...and it only made you feel worse. "You okay, Y/N?" She asked.

“Yeah, um…” You nodded quickly, fighting back tears. “You should, um…you should probably go check on her. She needs a friend.” 

You turned away. Stefan stepped in front of you, his eyes soft with concern. "Hey," He said gently and reached for your hands. His touch felt like an anchor on glass. You pulled back.

"I want to be alone," You whispered, hoping that if you spoke quietly enough, he wouldn't hear the way your voice broke. You didn't wait for a response. You knew he would support you no matter what, but right now, you didn't want pity or kindness. You just wanted to escape.

And so you stalked toward the parking lot, moving as fast as your legs could take you.

Chapter Eighteen: tiebreaker

[ajesterwrites]

16. the necklace

summary: stefan gives you something special.

pairings: stefan salvatore x fem! reader

warnings: none

word count: 1.2K

previous chapter: fifth wheel

IT WAS FRIDAY NIGHT at Mystic Falls High. That only meant one thing: football.

You'd never been a big fan of the sport. Even as a cheerleader, you hadn't learned the rules or terminology. After all, your job was to lift people from the stands...not study why boys tackled each other and risked head injuries trying to steal an odd-shaped ball (your father had told you about many, many injuries caused on the field).

Even when you were dating Matt, he sensed your disinterest and never tried to explain anything to you. You had a mutual understanding; he scored a home run—erm, touchdown—and you screamed and cheered and danced. Really, it was the perfect dynamic. But this year, things were different.

First, you were no longer dating Matt. Not having him there was..weird, if you were being honest. The two of you had been close your whole life, and this distance was a foreign feeling.

Second, you'd be cheering for Stefan. Of course, you'd save some applause for Matt—he was still a friend, even though it was kind of awkward.

And lastly, you wouldn't be cheering on the sidelines. You'd traded your pompoms for a cold seat on the bleachers.

Everything felt so....new.

You'd told Caroline your decision to quit the cheerleading team. Initially, she'd been confused and slightly neurotic (one less cheerleader an hour before the game was a nightmare)—but once the panic passed, she hugged you tightly, and assured you that there were no hard feelings.

Now, you were walking across the courtyard, which was packed with blood-red jerseys, skirts, and painted faces (talk about school spirit). Your eyes skimmed above the red attire, searching for a friendly face. You wanted to wish the boys good luck and let Bonnie know that you wouldn't be joining her in cheer.

A bright smile caught your attention. Stefan raised his hand and you beamed as you made your way over. "Hey," You greeted cheerfully.

"Hey." Stefan's gaze flicked over your outfit—ripped jeans and a red tank top. Hey, just because you weren't a cheerleader anymore didn't mean you couldn't show support. "What happened? No more cheerleader?"

Your smile widened. "Nope. I quit!"

At first, you were worried that this change would be stressful, but it had the opposite effect. For the first time in months, you felt...free. And while you still weren't sure how to feel about Damon, you had to give credit where it was due.

"I'm going to spend my time cleaning paintbrushes and organizing palettes," You announced.

"A dream come true," He teased. You giggled. It was messy. And you weren't that good at painting. But honestly? It was a dream come true. "I, um..."

Stefan cleared his throat. You gazed at him questioningly. He seemed...nervous. "I hope you don't think this is too soon or too weird but...I wanted to give you this."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. He gently flipped the lid, revealing a silver pendant unlike anything you'd ever seen. You carefully picked it up, studying its intricate design. Your eyes shimmered in awe. "Stefan, it's...this is beautiful," You gasped.

Your smile faded. At the festival, you'd already established that you were just friends. But this gift...it seemed like something more. Like something romantic. What did this mean? Was it a symbol of him wanting to take things further? Was it junk that he just wanted to get rid of but couldn't bring himself to sell or throw away? Was it simply a token of your friendship?

Suddenly, the necklace was a delicate reminder that the two of you stood in limbo. You played the charade of friends—innocent smiles, late-night conversations, limitless support—pushing yourself back from anything that could shatter the barrier you'd built. Then he'd do something stupid. Like pull you close and talk about comets. Or hold your hand when Caroline accidentally hurt you. Or give you precious jewelry. He was the sun and you were Icarus. All you could think about was the warmth of his skin against yours, but you knew that if you let him come any closer, the wax on your wings would melt. And the fall would break you.

"I-I can't accept this," You stammered, heat rising to your cheeks. "This is obviously valuable and you-you didn't have to, um-"

Nerves jolted through your body. Had the ground become jello or was that just your legs?

"I wanted to," He said simply. You were making a fool of yourself, and here he was, smiling at you like it was the cutest thing in the world. Your cheeks grew hotter. You tried to stop your own grin from forming, but looking into his kind eyes, it was impossible. "It's something I've had forever and, uh, I've never wanted to give it to anybody until now."

Your lips parted. It was this special?

"I'd very much like it if you'd wear it for me," Stefan continued. For a second, you frowned, wondering why. "For...good luck."

Happiness swept over you—not the kind that made you want to get up and dance, but the kind that filled you with quiet peace. You'd owned tons of jewelry, each with its own unique designs and history, some more extravagant than others. But this? This meant something.

"Of course," You said, smiling hard. "I love it. Thank you."

"Here, let me help," Stefan offered. You returned the necklace and lifted your hair, turning your back to him.

The chain was cool against your skin, but before you could react, his fingers nudged your neck. A shiver ran down your spine. You knew it wasn't on purpose. But still, your breath hitched in your throat. You didn't know if it was your imagination, but you swore his fingers lingered, even when he'd finished clasping the necklace.

Before your mind could wander to places it shouldn't, he spoke again. "And, uh...I wanted to thank you for pushing me to try out for the team. It feels really good."

You hated how much you were smiling. But in his presence, it was impossible to stop. "Don't thank me for always being right," You joked, struggling to ease out of these strange emotions overtaking you. He laughed. The deep, breezy sound made you realize something.

Maybe you were using humor to deflect...but also, you seriously loved his laugh. It wasn't loud or boisterous. But even though noise stemmed from every direction—people wishing the players good luck, footballs thudding across the lawn, cheerleaders shrieking in excitement, music and ringtones creating a cacophony, and the sportscaster's rants blaring through the air—somehow Stefan's laughter was the only thing that mattered.

You realized something else: you were staring. And so was he.

Red jerseys raced past you, headed toward the school. You glanced at your shoes, rubbing the back of your neck. "Uh...you should probably—"

"Yeah," Stefan muttered, blinking into reality.

You gave him a tentative smile. "Good luck."

He nodded, murmured a quick thanks, and jogged after his teammates. As you watched him go, your fingers found the pendant. You bit your lip to suppress a grin and sighed.

Chapter Seventeen: game night

[ajesterwrites]

15. fifth wheel

summary: damon and caroline crash your friendly dinner...and for the first time, you catch a glimpse of damon's past.

pairings: damon salvatore x fem! reader, stefan salvatore x fem! reader

warnings: ptsd, mention of blood

word count: 2.9k

previous chapter: three's a crowd

"SURPRISE!"

When you saw who was on your front steps, suddenly you wished it was Sheriff Forbes. Because standing in front of you was the sheriff's daughter, in a sleeveless olive green dress, a scarf draped around her neck, and a red velvet cake in her hands...and behind her was Damon Salvatore. Multiple replies ran through your head, ranging from "What the hell?" and "What the fuck is he doing here?" and "Why are you at my house?"

But the only words that came were "Uh...what?"

"Bonnie said you were doing dinner, so we brought dessert!"

"Hope you don't mind," Damon added. Before you could say that you did, in fact, mind, Caroline strutted inside.

"Um- okay, you can just...put the cake on the counter," You called after her. Even though she and Damon had completely crashed your plans, you found it hard to be annoyed when you'd ghosted her for an entire summer.

"What are you doing here?"

You jumped. You hadn't even heard Stefan coming, but now he was standing at your side, looking oddly alarmed. Damon stepped toward the threshold, staring his brother in the eye. "Waiting for Y/N to invite me in."

Damon looked at you expectantly. You smiled uneasily. "Sure—"

"No, no, no," Stefan quickly interrupted. "He can't stay." Your smile faded. He looked like he was one head-shake away from getting an aneurysm. You furrowed your eyebrows as he met his brother's eyes. "Can you, Damon?"

Locked between them, you felt an odd rush deja vu. Something was happening here. A dangerous game between the two of them, and you had a feeling that Damon was used to scoring. You wanted to know his angle, to show Stefan that he had no reason to be nervous. You could play games too.

Forcing another smile, you grabbed Stefan's arm. His confused eyes met your calculating ones. "It's alright," You murmured. You turned to Damon and cleared your throat. "Come inside, Damon. The more the merrier."

You moved aside. Damon stepped past you. He stopped, taking a look around, and turned. "You have a beautiful home, Y/N." As you thanked him, he gave Stefan a smug look. Stefan's jaw tightened. You winked at him, offering a mischievous smile. Damon didn't know it, but now it was two versus one.

His eyes met yours again, this time almost tauntingly. "I bet being away from it was difficult."

You blinked. "What?"

Damon frowned, as if not understanding the impact of his words. "Caroline mentioned that you...disappeared this summer." You hated the way he said it, the way his eyes seemed to pierce yours, and his taunting smile, like he could uncover all of your secrets with a single look. Secrets. A surge of memories flooded your mind. White halls, white floors, white gowns, white teeth all turning red. Shavings of wood dusting the floor. A glass slipping from your hand, bloodthirsty eyes unraveling the quiet presence you'd tried so hard to keep.

"Y/N," Stefan said softly. You blinked out of your trance. Tears stung your eyes, as if you'd stared at the sun for sixty seconds. Questions and concern stirred in his eyes but you smiled warmly as if nothing had happened.

"Looks like the party's in the living room," You said, noting Caroline's laughter from the next room. "I'll clear the table and meet you there."

Before Stefan could protest, you made your way to the kitchen table. You grabbed each plate carefully, listening for footsteps. When you were sure that the Salvatore brothers left, you placed the plates in the sink and took a deep breath. You're safe now.

"I'm safe now," You whispered. Then you sighed. One point for Damon Salvatore.

~

You almost dreaded joining your guests. Third-wheeling was bad enough but fifth-wheeling?

Besides, with Caroline here, the opportunity for Stefan and Bonnie to quietly bond was thrown completely out of the window. While you sat a little too close to Stefan (when did the couch become so small?), Damon and Caroline practically snuggled in the chair on your left. Bonnie sat comfortably across from them, sipping her cola.

The blonde cheerleader went on and on about different topics—future events, school drama, the ever-rampant rumor mill in Mystic Falls. Damon was only making it worse. You'd never seen Stefan so tense. When Mr. Tanner and Tyler Lockwood were on his back, he shook them off with ease. But something about his brother sent him completely on edge. You tried not to let it worry you—it was his family business, after all. But the way his jaw clenched, he was incredibly quiet even for him, and his entire body locked with tension.

You wanted to reach for his hand...but Caroline's body was covered with eyes. She was already speculating about you two—if you did anything remotely affectionate, the rumors and elation would spin out of control.

“Y/N, didn’t you use to date Tyler?” Caroline asked sweetly. All eyes turned to you. Damon chuckled.

You cleared your throat. Stefan's gaze was thick and expectant. You knew there was no judgment, simply curiosity, but squirmed in your seat. “I wouldn’t say we dated.” You sipped your drink coolly.

“But you banged, right?” 

You choked on your soda. Damon peered at you, amused. Bonnie laughed awkwardly. “Caroline, that’s not…” 

“What? I’m only asking. Y/N doesn’t mind. Do you, Y/N?” 

You kept your eyes on Caroline, your lips stretched in a neutral line. “We kissed. One time. I barely remember it. I guess he didn’t leave much of an impression.” 

“Hm.” Caroline nodded thoughtfully. 

Bonnie's eyes darted between the two of you. She forced a smile. "Hey, Caroline, did you hear about Stefan making the team?"

Caroline's eyes lit up at a new opportunity to gossip.

"I cannot believe that Mr. Tanner let you on the team," The perky blonde babbled excitedly. Between Stefan's stress and your small incident earlier, it was getting increasingly harder to focus. Why couldn't your glass be filed with wine instead of cola? "Oh, Tyler must be seething." She chuckled, as if imagining the look on his face. "But good for you. Go for it."

"That's what I always tell him," Damon interjected. "You have to engage. You can't just sit there and wait for life to come to you. You have to go get it."

Stefan looked like he was going to go get a shotgun and show Damon who's boss.

"Yeah, Y/N wasn't so lucky today," Caroline said semi-sadly. You wondered how on earth this conversation became about you and you hoped it would pass quickly. But when she looked at you, the hope slowly dwindled. "It's only because you missed summer camp. God, I don't know how you're ever going to learn the routines."

"I'll work with her," Bonnie offered, trying to take the heat off of you. "She'll get it."

You gave her a grateful smile. But Caroline didn't seem to get the memo. She tapped her finger on her chin, thinking. "I guess we'll put her in the back..."

Of all the terrible things that had happened this year, failing at cheerleading wasn't exactly your #1 tragedy. You couldn't even really bring yourself to care about the sport, but after leaving Caroline all summer with zero explanation, you couldn't just quit the one interest you both shared. Cheerleading was her life. Even if it was slowly becoming your Hell...you deserved it. Which made it all the worse when Damon commented "Hey, you don't—you don't seem like the cheerleader type, Y/N."

"Oh, it's just 'cause her parents died," Caroline replied. You froze. She had just mentioned the worst thing that'd ever happened to you as if it was the easiest thing in the world. "Yeah. I mean....she's just totally going through a blah phase. She used to be way more fun."

And just like that, your heart cracked into two. "I'm sorry that my parents dying is such an inconvenience for you," You snapped. Your mind buzzed with simmering rage. Your heart thrummed so slowly in your chest, if you hadn't been clearly alive, you would think that it stopped. Caroline opened her mouth to apologize—and maybe she did, but you'd looked away so quickly, your senses clouded with anger that you weren't sure. And to be honest, you didn't care.

A hand slipped into yours, squeezing gently. Cold metal touched your finger. Stefan's ring.

"I'm sorry Y/N," Damon said sympathetically, but his tone was so insincere, you couldn't help but look at him with disbelief. "I know what it's like to lose both your parents. In fact, Stefan and I have watched almost every single person we've ever cared about die."

"We don't have to get into that right now, Damon." As he spoke, his hand tightened around yours. You didn't think he even realized.

Damien sighed innocently. "You know what? You're right, Stefan, I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was bring her up." He chuckled and forced a tight smile as if to say silly me for making that mistake.

The wheels turned in your head. Her. Katherine. You released Stefan's hand without even realizing. Katherine wasn't just some ex-girlfriend...she was his late ex-girlfriend. Even if she'd broken his heart, losing her couldn't have been easy. You remembered the look on his face the first time you'd mentioned her name.

You wondered who else he'd lost. No wonder he was so reserved. All that pain he was carrying...

"It was a long time ago," Stefan whispered after a moment of silence. That's also what he'd said at the festival, as if time healed all wounds.

You nodded slowly. You wished you could read him. Was he angry? Sad? Hurt? Did he even see Katherine's death as a loss? Had he ever? All you knew was that you didn't want to be another wound he'd come to avoid.

"I'm thirsty," Bonnie suddenly announced. "Does anyone want a refill?"

A round of no's scattered across the room. Stefan gave her a small thankful smile. It looked like Operation Bond Stefan and Bonnie was a success.

"That's fine," You said, rising to your feet. "I should be going to bed soon anyway. You guys can talk while I wash dishes."

You'd have enough tension, gossip, and sadness for one night. Breathing alone didn't sound too bad.

But somehow, the kitchen seemed...lonely. The last time you'd had this many people over, laughing over food and drinks...was the night your parents died. Family game night with Jenna. When Jeremy wasn't an addict. Jenna wasn't always frazzled. Of course, your Uncle John hadn't been able to make it as usual. But in your small, happy family, it never felt like anything was missing.

Scrubbing the dishes, you could almost hear the way your mother giggled at your father's stupid jokes. You wished you could reach into your own head and bury your brain in dishwater, scrubbing it clean of all these taunting memories. Memories reminding you of what you'd never have again.

The glass you'd sipped cola in seemed especially fragile in your grasp. Your mother used to use them for every meal because they were "classy." Even though it was kind of ridiculous, she'd insisted that you and your brother deserved the best. Jenna seemed to prefer plastic. Plastic cups meant fewer accidents and fewer memories.

"Hey," A deep voice called out. You stiffened immediately. "Sorry. Did I startle you?"

"A little," You admitted.

"One more," Damon announced, holding up a glass.

"Oh. Thank you." You reached a soapy hand for the glass, but your grip wasn't as tight as you'd expected—as soon as it made contact, the glass slipped through your hand. You gasped quietly, scrambling to catch it, but Damon was quicker. The glass landed perfectly in his hand. You sighed with relief, an airy laugh escaping your lips. "Nice save."

He held the glass to you. You gently reached for it, and accidentally brushed your fingers against his. They rose slightly, almost like your touch had awakened them.

"I like you," Damon remarked teasingly as you returned to washing dishes. "You know how to laugh."

You scoffed, though for the first time that night, you could stand his presence. "Thank you. It's one of my many hidden talents."

"And you make Stefan smile," Damon added, joining you by the sink. He turned on the faucet and started to rinse the dishes. "Which is something I haven't seen in a very long time."

"You mean since Katherine?" You asked hesitantly. He nodded. "I...didn't realize that she died. I assumed they just—"

"Broke up?" He finished. "If only it were that simple."

"How did she die?" You asked, then realized how tasteless that might seem. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Fire," Damon replied flatly. "Tragic fire."

"Recently?" You hoped you weren't pushing his boundaries.

"Well it seems like yesterday."

You paused, instantly forgetting your chore. That was the most sincere thing he'd said since you'd met. You nodded and glanced away, suddenly feeling like you saw too much. Still, you wanted to hear more. This Katherine person seemed important to Stefan. If you were going to understand him, you wanted to know exactly how forbidden this topic was. "What was she like?"

Damon's eyes wandered away. He took only a moment to think before looking back at you. "She was beautiful," He decided. "A lot like you in that department." You forced a smile. Somehow, hearing him talk about his brother's dead ex-girlfriend made it feel kind of rude to roll your eyes. "She was just very complicated. And selfish. And at times, not very kind." You bit your lip. That sounded uncomfortably familiar. "But very sexy and seductive." Okay, that didn't sound familiar.

You went back to washing the very last dish, a golden plate. You couldn't help but notice that while he was speaking, he didn't really maintain eye contact. And the way he described Katherine...

"So..." You drawled, holding out the sud-covered plate. "Which one of you dated her first?"

Damon chuckled, taking the plate from your grasp. "Nicely deduced." He began to rinse it. "Ask Stefan. I'm sure his answer differs from mine." He set the dish in the rack to dry. You frowned. Was it possible that Katherine had gotten between them? Was that why they were feuding?

Damon shook his hands dry. You dipped your hands under the running faucet and did the same. His gaze thickened into your every action. You didn't like how he talked about Stefan...what had Damon done to him? Why was Stefan so...afraid?

You swallowed hard, not wanting to find out, and spun toward the table behind you. A pile of placemats was asking to be folded...and you wanted to put as much distance between you and Damon as possible without seeming rude. Damon didn't seem to get the memo.

"I'd quit cheerleading if I were you." He followed you to the table and sat down. You couldn't tell if that was a threat or a friendly suggestion.

"Why do you say that?"

"Oh I saw you at practice today," Damon said. You remembered seeing him drop Caroline off earlier that afternoon. It'd been so shocking because for once in her anal life, she was late to practice. You might've given Damon a dirty look. Possibly. But you almost regretted it when he said "You looked miserable."

"I was." There was no point in hiding it. Besides, what was Damon going to do? Tell on you? This was the first heart-to-heart the two of you had, and you were planning for it to be the last.

"So why don't you stop?"

You sighed. "I promised myself that I wouldn't change." Openly, at least.

"Well given what you experienced, that seems a little...unrealistic to me."

"It probably is." You chuckled humorlessly. "But, uh...I don't break my promises."

"And what happens if they break you?"

"It won't." You didn't mean for your tone to come out as sharp as it did. Damon didn't seem offended, but he didn't press either. He just smiled, albeit uncomfortably, and nodded.

You watched him for a moment, realizing something that you hadn't before. Beneath the shallow charm and fake smiles must've been a whole lot of pain.

"I'm sorry," You said gently. He frowned. You captured the look of genuine confusion on his face and clarified "About Katherine. You lost her too."

He blinked. Your words seemed almost foreign to him, like he couldn't remember the last time someone expressed sympathy or care for him. He held your gaze, eyes softening. His eyes seemed less like a weapon to uncover someone else's pain and more like a window to reveal his own. You offered a smile, and for once, he seemed speechless.

You hadn't known it then, but one point for you.

~

The rest of the night raced you by. Bonnie had unknowingly interrupted your special moment with Damon...which totally didn't nag at you at all. Afterward, Damon left, probably to torment Stefan, and Caroline joined you in the kitchen. She immediately apologized for being insensitive and with Caroline...well, it was hard to stay mad.

Now, you were drifting off to sleep, exhausted by the night's events. Sleeping was easier than you thought it'd be. It was the dreams that proved to be difficult.

You dreamt that you were sitting on your bed, speaking to Ryder. Seeing him, it was like he never died. He talked to you about nonsense. And then out of nowhere, he leaned forward and kissed you. You welcomed the feeling of his lips on yours, not taking a moment to think. He hovered over you, pressing you against the mattress, and desperately unbuttoned your shirt. But when you pulled apart for air, it wasn't Ryder's face you were looking at.

It was Damon's.

You jolted awake, breathing heavily. "Three," You panted. "Six...nine..." After a few seconds, you caught your breath. What the hell was that? Why were you having dreams about making out with your crush's—uh, your friend's brother? What was wrong with you?

Damon was hot, yes, but you weren't attracted to him. The opposite, actually. No matter how...human he seemed for a minute. You needed to pull yourself together. "It's not real," You murmured. But the sensation of his lips meeting yours....it felt more like a memory than a dream. You'd heard of phantom pain, but phantom makeout sessions? Was that even a thing?

You shook your head and closed your eyes. "It's not real," You whispered. You repeated those words again and again until you drifted off to sleep, unaware of the black crow perched on your windowsill.

Chapter Sixteen: the necklace

[ajesterwrites]

13. those who can't do...

summary: when mr. tanner tries to send you a message, stefan saves you from embarrassment.

pairings: reader x stefan salvatore

warnings: Mr. Tanner being a dick

word count: 1.1k

previous chapter: bonnie's doubt

As you sat in Mr. Tanner's history lesson, semi-listening to him drone on and on about World War II, you couldn't help but let your mind drift to your conversation with Bonnie. A bad feeling...about Stefan. If Bonnie was a witch and she sensed something dangerous in him, this could be a sign of impending doom. What did Shania call it? An omen. But even if Bonnie wasn't a witch...she'd never had bad feelings about any of the guys you had been with. Why was Stefan different? 

You turned around to glance at Stefan, who was watching Mr. Tanner. He noticed you immediately and smiled. You forced a smile and faced the board but Mr. Tanner had seen your focus shift. One look in his eyes and you knew it was over; he'd found his next victim. 

"Miss Gilbert," He called. You stiffened. All eyes wandered to you. You glanced at Bonnie, who was busy doodling in her journal. The student in front of Bonnie stared at you expectantly. "Well?"

Sweat slid down your palms. Your chest beat so loud you could feel her head pulsing. What had he asked? Something about dates? World War II? But the date of what? The Battle of Midway? The Battle of Stalingrad? The Battle of The Bulge? Was it even a battle? 

"Um-" 

"Um is not an answer." You gulped. He gazed at you with sharp, beady eyes. You wanted to crawl under your desk or flee to the restroom. Any more of this and you might lose it in front of the class. 

It was bad enough dealing with stares all day because of your parents. The last thing you wanted was to be humiliated by a teacher because he wanted to prove that he was done letting you off the hook. Because he wanted to give a message: Last year, I gave you a pass. But now you get no more chances. And you got that message loud and clear. You sighed quietly, preparing to ask him to repeat the question, knowing it would cause more scrutiny and contempt, when a voice cut in. 

"December 7, 1941." 

Mr. Tanner's eyes darted over your head and to the speaker. You slowly turned in your seat. Stefan. He nodded at you. You smiled gratefully. 

"Thank you, Miss Gilbert," Mr. Tanner replied. Loose laughter scattered throughout the classroom. You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling every nerve in your body calm.

"Any time." 

"Very well," said Mr. Tanner. You frowned. Now he was going to humiliate Stefan too. All because he'd saved you from embarrassment. "The fall of the Berlin Wall." 

"1989," Stefan answered without missing a beat. Your eyebrows raised in surprise. He was hot...and sweet...and smart? Stefan smiled modestly. "I'm...good with dates, sir." 

"Are you?" Mr. Tanner asked in an unusually challenging way,  though not out of character for an asshole like him. His eyes wandered and he smiled as he thought of a way to torture his student. "How good?" He met Stefan's stare. "Keep it to the year." 

"Is this really necessary?" You piped up. He was your teacher...his job was to teach you, not humiliate you for his own entertainment. 

"It's alright, Y/N." You met Stefan's reassuring smile with a look of uncertainty.

"Civil Rights Act," Tanner chimed. 

Stefan tore his gaze away from you and looked dead into your teacher's eyes. He took a moment. "1964." 

"Oh," Tanner exhaled with a smirk as if to say that was an easy one. He glanced away, thinking. "John F. Kennedy assassination." 

"1963," Stefan answered, this time without missing a beat. You raised your eyebrows, impressed. It seemed like Stefan had just been warming up, but now...

Tanner blinked. A serious look came to his eyes, all traces of his smug demeanor gone as he watched Stefan with laser-beam focus. "Martin Luther King." 

"68." 

"Lincoln." Tanner stepped close to his student.

"1865." 

You watched in anticipation as they went back and forth. Names of court cases, battles, and wars flew across the room, and Stefan counter-attacked perfectly—the best part was he didn't take a moment to think. In response, Tanner's voice became sharper and quicker, but Stefan deflected with ease. 

"Korean War."

"1950 to 1953." 

"HA!" Mr. Tanner exclaimed, now in front of Stefan's desk, and bending down as if to say in your face. "It ended in '52." 

He chuckled. A few of your classmates hesitantly joined in. You scowled. What the hell was his problem?

Mr. Tanner spun on his heel and charged for his desk with a shit-eating grin. 

"Uh, actually, sir, it was '53," Stefan corrected. Tanner slowly turned around, his smile fading. You glanced between the two of them. If Stefan was wrong...Mr. Tanner would never let him hear the end of it. If Stefan was right, then...unless he kicked some ass on the football team, Tanner would try to make his life a living hell...and get a taste of his own medicine. 

"Somebody look it up," Tanner barked. Textbook pages flipped rapidly. "Hurry up!" 

Jordan, a boy who sat beside you, pulled out his phone. "It was 19...53." 

Now it was your turn to chuckle. You couldn't believe it. Mr Tanner had been out-tannered...by the new kid. You glowed as you met Stefan's eyes. You'd been humiliated, sure, but not more than Mr. Tanner. His heart was made of pure ego...which had just been shattered. A satisfying chorus of oohs sounded throughout the classroom. A round of applause broke out and you clapped the hardest of them all. Stefan tried to fight back a smile as Tanner gazed at him in a stunned, defeated silence. But when he saw you grinning from ear-to-ear, it seemed like Stefan had lost that battle. 

The bell rang. And to you, it was the sound of victory. A perfect way to end this class, You thought. You shoved your belongings in your bag, unlike Stefan, who carefully slid everything inside, and excitedly accompanied him out of the door, not missing the deflated manner that Tanner flopped into his chair. 

"Up top!" You exclaimed, holding up your hand. Stefan reluctantly slapped his palm against yours. You beamed with excitement. "How did you know all that?" 

"Years and years of crossword puzzles," He replied. "It's, uh...a loner thing." 

"Ha ha," You said sarcastically, giving him a pointed look, which he met with a smug smile. You rolled your eyes. "I gotta go catch up with Bonnie for cheer tryouts. Wish me luck!" 

"Good luck!" He called after you as you skipped down the hall.

Chapter Fourteen: three's a crowd

[ajesterwrites]

14. three's a crowd

don't mind me experimenting with my first gif 🙈 if anyone knows how to get better quality please lmk 😩

summary: you invite bonnie and stefan to dinner, hoping to bond.

pairings: bonnie bennett x reader, stefan salvatore x reader

warnings: none but I can't wait for things to pick up 😩

word count: 1.5k

previous chapter: those who can't do

PRACTICE went worse than you'd expected.

It seemed like over the summer, you'd lost all sense of rhythm. Even the freshmen managed to stay on the beat. Bonnie, of course, did a wonderful job. She'd been so happy to see you strut onto the field and congratulated you, even after Caroline had kindly suggested that you sit this routine out. You'd obliged, even though it sliced your ego into pieces.

Only two good things had come out of tryouts: firstly, you had successfully convinced Bonnie to attend dinner with you and Stefan; secondly, when you were kicked to the sidelines, you could see that Stefan had taken your advice and decided to try out for the football team. And wow, he was amazing! He'd dodged Tyler with ease, dashing and spinning. No amount of humiliation Mr. Tanner evoked from his students could make him as delighted as he was seeing Stefan kill it on the field. And even though you were having the worst time of your life, you couldn't help but smile. You'd hoped that Stefan could cement his place in the school. Newcomers didn't always have it easy—as seen by Tyler Lockwood's unprovoked treatment—but you knew that Stefan wasn't exactly one to give up.

"Fire!" Bonnie suddenly shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"What?" You murmured. You followed her gaze to see blue flames emerging from the stove, and dropped the pot you'd been holding. You rushed to turn the knob on the stove, barely noticing the clang behind you. The flames dipped down.

Bonnie picked up the pot and inspected it. "The food's safe," She announced.

You chuckled. Ugh, you just wanted tonight to be perfect. You'd never hosted dinner at your house. You'd been at other dinners—namely, ones hosted by your father's colleagues and your mother's fellow committee members, but the Gilberts thought that their home was their haven. They didn't just invite anyone in. It was reserved for family and only their closest friends.

Your parents had tried to teach you the perfect etiquette and preparation, but you failed every lesson. You hadn't made anything homemade (you sucked at cooking—also, this party may have been a tad spontaneous); you didn't preheat the stove properly; and to make up for it, you'd turned the temperature a little too high. Then you had to assemble the perfect outfit that said "I'm a hostess but I'm also just a teen and I really want to impress you guys but I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard." When you finished raiding your closet, you returned to the stove, but you were so preoccupied with your thoughts that you had barely noticed the smoke, even as it stung your eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked Bonnie, setting the fallen pot on the counter. It wasn't like you to be so...tense. You'd always teased Caroline about being so high-strung when planning events, but at least Caroline wasn't so clumsy. She did everything perfectly.

"I'm just nervous is all," You said simply.

Truth be told, your thoughts were killing you. At first, you'd been worried that tonight would be a disaster. You wanted nothing more than for Bonnie and Stefan to bond...but thinking about your friends made you think of all the secrets you were keeping from them. So naturally, your mind wandered to the center...and Ryder. Ryder was the last thing you wanted to think about. What if Bonnie touched you, had a vision, and caught a glimpse of him?

Her powers seemed to be getting stronger. Earlier that evening, she'd told you about a commercial she predicted—which was questionable, to say the least (that commercial was more inescapable than the moon cycle). But then she'd also guessed where the serving spoons were. After Jenna moved in, she'd rearranged things so they were easier to grab. That had to mean something.

But Bonnie refused to speak to her grams. She didn't want real confirmation that she was a witch. It made you wonder if she hadn't described her vision because she loved you, or if it was because she was scared to acknowledge that her powers were real. You hadn't brought it up because you didn't want to give too much information away...what if you admitted to something she hadn't seen and then she saw you as a monster?

The doorbell ripped you from your troubles. "That must be him," You said and took a deep breath. You faced Bonnie, who smiled uneasily. "Remember, just be your normal, loving, non-cold, engaging self."

Bonnie nodded. You rushed to answer the door and swung it open. Stefan awaited with a smile.

~

It only took a few minutes to get situated.

Now the foods were arranged neatly on the table, and everyone filled their plates with the dinner of their choice, but no one said a word. The only noise came from forks clinging against white earthenware and the grandfather clock ticking in the living room.

After sharing the hundredth awkward looks with your guests, you sipped cola from your mom's fancy wineglass and cleared your throat. "Did Tanner give you a hard time today?" You asked Stefan, setting your glass down.

"Well he let me on the team, so..." He chuckled softly. "I must've done something right."

You smiled. Even someone as prideful as Mr. Tanner couldn't pass up a potential star player. Looking at Bonnie, you said, "Bonnie, you should've seen Stefan today! Tyler threw a ball right at him and—"

"Yeah, I heard."

Your smile fell as naturally as it had emerged. Without a word, you reached for your drink, hoping to swallow your sadness and frustrations, and wishing it was liquor. It was like Bonnie wasn't even trying to bond with him.

You'd wanted to invite Caroline but she could be...well, a little too extroverted. While Bonnie was outgoing, she tended to be on the more mellow side, much like Stefan. You'd worried that if you invited Caroline, she'd take over the conversations, leaving little room for Bonnie and Stefan to have a one-on-one.

Stefan lightly tapped his finger against the table. You sighed quietly to yourself. This was a disaster. Your mother must've been rolling in her grave. You tried to think. If you couldn't get Bonnie interested in Stefan, why not do the opposite?

"Bonnie," You tried again. "Why don't you tell Stefan about your family?"

Bonnie blinked and glanced at Stefan. "Um...divorced. No mom. Live with my dad." She chuckled awkwardly.

"No, about the witches," You clarified. Stefan immediately turned his head to you, interest piqued. You bit back a smile. "Bonnie's family has a lineage of witches. It's really cool."

"Cool isn't the word I'd use," Bonnie muttered. You gave her a look. Why had she even agreed to this dinner if she was going to be closed-off the entire time?

You grabbed your plate by the rims, ready to give up and storm off, when Stefan suddenly said "Well, it's certainly interesting. I'm not too versed but I know that there's a history of Celtic Druids that migrated here in the 1800s."

"My family came by way of Salem."

"Really?" He asked. She gave a tight smile. Her eyes darted away from his intense gaze. "Salem witches?"

"Yeah." She laughed softly and looked at her lap. You suddenly felt guilty. Maybe you'd been too harsh. It couldn't have been easy talking about this. While you knew quite a bit about supernatural creatures, she must have felt like a freak. A weird family history and suddenly she was seeing and feeling things that she couldn't explain? With a guy whose presence was causing these feelings? Bonnie must have been so scared. The way her shoulders tensed...how she could barely maintain eye contact. It reminded you of...yourself.

"I would say that's pretty cool," Stefan said kindly.

"Really? Why?" She smiled again, but this time the tension was dulled by genuine curiosity.

"Salem witches are heroic examples of individualism and nonconformity," He explained.

For the first time, Bonnie smiled proudly. "Yeah...they are."

You masked your grin with another sip of cola. Finally, things were working out. Stefan's perspective of witches impressed you—but what was more impressive, how he'd made your best friend feel less freakish and more...confident. You hoped you could see her eyes sparkle like this more in the future when she talked about her family line.

As you set your glass on the counter, the doorbell rang. You frowned, almost forgetting what that sounded like. "I'll get it," You said. "You guys keep talking."

As you rose to your feet, conversation swept over the duo. You headed for the door with tentative steps. Jeremy had his own keys. So did Jenna. Who would randomly show up at this hour? Did Sheriff Forbes have more questions about Ryder? Had she realized that you were holding out on her? Was she going to drag you to the station?

The nerves in your body felt like sand running through your veins. You couldn't even tell if you were breathing anymore. Suddenly, your front door felt like the only thing standing between you and your secrets.

Slowly, you reached for the knob...and flung the door open.

Chapter Fifteen: fifth wheel

[ajesterwrites]

12. bonnie's doubt

summary: bonnie has doubts about your friendship with stefan. you catch a glimpse of his secret talent.

pairings: stefan salvatore x fem! reader

warnings: thoughts of death

word count: 2.5k

previous chapter: harbinger of heartbreak

EVER SINCE your return home, you had one goal: to adapt. You hoped to fill the shoes of your past self and live the way you were supposed to—before the accident that killed your parents and the following events that killed you. So far, you'd been successful. Except for one thing.

You used to love car rides. You loved the windows rolled down, the breeze that carried away your troubles, and the music blasting through the radio. Riding in the backseat of your mom's SUV had been the best part of your day. Then the accident happened.

Now, every time you climbed into a car, you couldn't help but feel your heart drop to the floor. Your lungs would tighten and it felt like you were drowning all over again. It was only when you stepped out that you could fully breathe again.

But as you exited Bonnie's car, the feeling never left you. It'd been a week since Bonnie learned your secret. For the first time since then, you were alone together. Bonnie didn't know the circumstances behind what happened. She didn't even ask. I know you had a good reason, She'd said. Don't tell me if you're not ready.

It'd made you wonder exactly how much she saw.

When she picked you up for school earlier that morning, she'd acted like nothing even happened and segued the conversation to Stefan. Unfortunately for you—but not exactly new to you—Bonnie did not approve.

"I'm not saying don't date the guy," Bonnie was saying, her voice tinted with exasperation. She swung the car door shut. "I'm just saying take it slow."

"I am taking it slow," You argued, trying to look strong. You were out, breathing the air your parents couldn't, but it felt like you were clawing your way to freedom only to fall again and again. Like trying to beg your bleeding parents to unlock the doors, but choking on water every time your lips parted. Your chance at normalcy was slowly waning. But you couldn't think about that. You couldn't think about your parents or your secret. Right now, this was about Stefan. "All we do is talk. And weren't you and Caroline the ones who practically begged me to go for it?"

You leisurely walked across the school lawn. The morning sun beat on your skin, but the crisp November air balanced the heat. "Yes. But now I'm saying take it slow. You're single for the first time in your high school career. It's the perfect time to play the field."

You almost laughed. Play the field? Bonnie had always seemed uncomfortable by you jumping around from guy to guy—the her a year ago would've rejoiced that you finally found a good guy you could trust. "Okay, that's how I know something's wrong."

Bonnie sighed, casting uncertain glances her friend's way. "...It's stupid."

"Then talk to me like I'm an idiot. That shouldn't be too hard," You reasoned, stopping with a shrug and smile. Bonnie gave you an even more tired look and walked faster but you grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Bonnie."

"Fine."

You smiled triumphantly. She hadn't flinched at your touch. Bonnie didn't hate you. She wasn't afraid of you. She still saw you as the same girl you always were.

Bonnie rolled her eyes at your smug expression. She'd been friends with you long enough to know that arguing with you was a hassle and losing was inevitable. When you wanted something, you got it. Bonnie couldn't tell if that was a blessing or a curse. "I accidentally touched Stefan and I got a really bad feeling."

You stared at her a moment, contemplating the chances of her being a witch. You couldn't ignore the thing with the crow—except a crow did crash into her car the day before. Either way, assuming Bonnie really was...supernatural, this knowledge would only lead to a path of darkness. You had no doubt that Bonnie could become the greatest witch to ever live, but you didn't want a life of suffering for her. Bonnie deserved normalcy. She deserved happiness. Being a witch would take that all away.

"Okay..." You sighed. "Um, a really bad feeling as in 'holy shit I just drank milk and I'm lactose intolerant' or a really bad feeling feeling as in 'Okay I'm psychic now and got a bad vibe'?"

"This isn't about that," Bonnie said dismissively. You frowned with uncertainty but didn't argue. "I'm just concerned. This is me expressing concern about my friend's new....something."

Something. A word so meaningful yet so painfully vague.

You didn't know how to feel about Stefan...you liked him. A lot. More than you'd like any other boy. Ever. He understood your pain...most of it anyway...and more importantly, he understood you. Unlike in your relationship with Matt, who you'd known forever, there was no pressure or expectations. You and Stefan were just two people who'd crashed into orbit.

You could talk for hours and...you couldn't forget how you'd smiled at that first text. But how could you be sure he felt the same way? What did these feelings even mean? It was too early for a romance...there was so much you didn't know about him, except his favorite books and music taste and that he had an unhealthy love for Lucy Ricardo (which was unbelievable—Donna Reid was right there).

During your talk, you'd told him almost everything about yourself...including your incident with Tyler Lockwood in the third grade. You'd even clued him in about your failed relationship with Matt and the few times you'd been picked up by Sheriff Forbes. To you, you and Stefan were more than friends but...definitely less than lovers. Where did that leave you? 

You'd already made it clear at the festival that you didn't want your relationship to go beyond friendship. In a way, that wish was coming true, and you weren't sure whether to be scared or thankful.

"Tell you what," You started, smiling. Even if you liked Stefan, you couldn't fault Bonnie for trying to look out for you. "If you promise to lay off and keep being the super supportive bestie you were when I was dating Matt, I'll continue to take things sloth-level with Stefan. Deal?"

Bonnie looked down at her best friend's extended hand. Reluctantly, she shook it and offered a matching smile. "Deal."

"Good."

"So..." Bonnie said as you strolled around the courtyard, waiting for the day to begin. The hiss of a buss engine and the scent of gasoline cut through the air. "Did you hear about the body in the woods?"

You inhaled sharply. Of course you did. It'd tortured your mind all week, more than you cared to admit. "Yeah, I heard." You didn't mention that you saw the body being rolled away or that you knew who it was. Bonnie had already learned your deepest secret...and if you told her about Ryder, you'd have to tell her so many other things.

"Apparently he's not from here."

You snapped your head up to meet Bonnie's wandering gaze. You narrowed your eyes. Did Bonnie know who Ryder was? Had she seen him when she touched you? Was that why she changed the subject? "How do you know it's a he?"

Bonnie raised her eyebrows in surprise. Then she frowned, recomposing herself. "I didn't. I just...I don't know, them, I guess. Are you okay, Y/N?"

"Fine," You muttered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. You didn't have the right to be suspicious. If anything, Bonnie should be suspicious of you.

Before Bonnie could pry into your mind, a new voice split through the morning. "Good morning, Y/N," Stefan greeted cheerfully as he approached the duo. You grinned at the sound of his voice...just when you'd thought the day couldn't get any brighter, there he was. In his leather jacket and baggy jeans. And he carried a shoulder bag instead of a backpack—just like you did. You'd never cared about men's fashion before, but God, he looked so hot...which were thoughts you definitely shouldn't be having about your new friend. "Good morning, Bonnie."

Bonnie was careful to avoid his gaze. "Hey, um, I gotta find Caroline," She suddenly said, looking at you. "She's not answering her phone so...I'll catch you guys later."

She scurried away with hunched shoulders. You sighed quietly. Stefan watched Bonnie go and slowly turned to you. "She doesn't like me very much."

"Is it that obvious?" You asked playfully, but that didn't seem to amuse him in the way you hoped it would. "I'm kidding. She just needs time. And a chance to know you like I do. Unless there are more secret siblings that I don't know about?"

"Uh...let me check," Stefan responded.

You laughed. A smile tugged at his lips. "Seriously, I am one hundred percent sure that sooner or later, she is going to love you."

Bonnie was an amicable person. It didn't take much for her to like someone. All she needed was to bond...like you and Stefan did that night on your way to the Grill. It was one of your one-on-ones and set the stage for their future encounters. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your mind.

"You know what? Let's make that sooner. Are you free tonight?"

"Yes."

"Perfect," You beamed. "What do you say? Dinner at my place, eight o'clock, just you, me, and Bonnie. Not only will you get to spend some quality time together, but I get to be a third wheel for the first time ever!"

Stefan smiled. "I think that's a great idea."

Your heart fluttered. The way he looked at you when he spoke...he was so calm and understanding. No one had ever looked at you like that...not even Matt. Matt's voice was rough and oftentimes dismissive, even though he had a kind heart. He never really understood you; his goal was only to appease you. He often did things without understanding the meaning behind it. But Stefan...he got it. He smiled like the dinner was as important to him as it was to you.

A glare of light broke you out of your trance. You'd been staring at Stefan like an idiot...not that he seemed to mind. You glanced up at the light—but it wasn't a light. It was a football. And it was flying your way.

Before you could say anything, Stefan spun around. The ball slipped perfectly in his tight grip. You looked at the person who'd thrown it. Unsurprisingly, Tyler was staring at you from across the lawn, shocked. Matt was at his hip, staring at him knowingly as if to say That's what you get. You scoffed. Of course. Reason #587 you and Matt broke up: Tyler Lockwood, the living tool.

Without a word, Stefan returned the football through the air. Tyler caught it, but the force of the toss sent him stumbling back. The surprise on his face made you laugh. You grinned and flipped him off. He opened his mouth to say something, but the first bell screeched across the lawn, making the nearby crows jump into the air and fly away. Your classmates rushed for the door entrance, and you followed them.

"You gotta teach me where you learned that," You said to Stefan as you sauntered down the hallways to history class. It was like he'd felt the air of the ball coming toward him—you'd never seen anything like it. Those instincts...for a human, they were so unnatural...and quite impressive.

"Oh that's just beginner stuff."

You scoffed, astonished by his humility. Tyler Lockwood was a terrible person, yes, but he had an arm like no other football player, despite the countless fights he'd been in. And Stefan had a way better throw than Tyler did.  "You're being modest. Not only did you feel that like a friggin psychic, but that throw was insane! I didn't know you played football."

"I used to. It was a long time ago."

The way he said it sounded so...depressing. How could he sound so down when he had a reputation to look forward to? You could see it already: Stefan Salvatore, Mystic Fall's star football player. He had the looks, the charm, the skill. If he wanted, he could be the most popular guy in school. But it seemed like he didn't want that...which only intrigued you. "Why don't you try out for the team?"

"Yeah.... I don't think so."

"So you don't like football?" You asked, confused. You opened your locker to load your history textbooks into your bag. As soon as you slipped the book inside, your shoulder ached.

"No, I love football," Stefan said, leaning against the corner of the wall. That was one upside to your locker being at the end of the hall: you never worried about disturbing anyone when you were with a friend. That and it was so much easier to get to class when the bell rang. "I think it's a great sport. But in this case, I don't think football likes me."

"Are you talking about Tyler?" You scoffed. "He's a dick to everyone...except Matt, I think. Wait, no. He's a dick to him too." After all, what kind of person would kiss his best friend's ex-girlfriend? You had been drunk out of your mind trying to cope with your parents' deaths. You could barely stand up straight. And there Tipsy Tyler was, ready to swoop you away, post your very fresh breakup with Matt. Maybe you were both terrible people.

Stefan smiled uncomfortably. "Well, we both know how Matt feels."

"Matt will get over it once he sees how amazing you are," You replied, waving away his concerns. He wasn't in a good place now...the breakup had definitely taken a toll on his sensitive heart. But Stefan was great. And he and Matt could be great friends if not for you. "And what better way to show him than score a home run in his favorite sport?"

Stefan fought back a laugh. "Touchdown."

"...Sure," You responded. You were never one to catch up with all these sports terminology. The only sports you had ever enjoyed playing were soccer and tennis, mostly because it involved hitting stuff as hard as you wanted. "You just gotta break out of your shell, show them you're more than mysterious loner guy."

"Says the girl who spends her alone time writing in a cemetery," Stefan pointed out teasingly.

Your mouth dropped open in mock pain. "Okay, that was a personal attack. Just for that comment, I'm ignoring your existence for a week."

You slammed your locker shut and strolled away with your nose in the air. Stefan's laughter rang behind you, which brought a grin to your face. "Oh come on, don't be like that." You kept walking. "Y/N? Y/N, come back!"

You giggled as he caught up to you. He rolled his eyes playfully, but the laughter that followed was enough to make even the heaviest souls find peace.

Chapter Thirteen: those who can't do

[ajesterwrites]

can u break up with Jake for me I want u back. 😞😞😞

Love youuuu 😭

[ajesterwrites]

can I eat u out

uhhhh no ❤️