Hi! Hope you’re doing well!! I was wondering if I could request an Elijah Mikaelson x Reader enemies to lovers slow burn? Hit me with the angst and tension and feel free to add in the classic tropes like “who did this to you” for bonus points lol.
🩶 Title: Blood & Promises (Elijah X F!Reader)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers | Angst | Slow Burn | Tension | Hurt/Comfort | TVD Universe
Summary:
You and Elijah Mikaelson were never supposed to be allies. You hunted his kind for years. But when a common enemy rises from the shadows of Mystic Falls, you’re forced to work together. Hatred turns into something far more dangerous—something that feels too much like love. Between blood, betrayal, and bruised hearts, the lines between monster and man blur until all that’s left is fire and longing.
Author’s Note:
Hi @lonelyghosts-stuff! Thank you so much for your request 💌 This one’s packed with angst, tension, and all the slow-burn chaos Elijah deserves. I included the “Who did this to you” moment, emotional wreckage, and reluctant tenderness that builds into something real. Enjoy the bite and the burn 💔🕯️
Darkness hummed before dawn in Mystic Falls, where monsters and hunters bled in equal measure, and trust was rarer than mercy.
It begins with a scream.
You’d heard plenty of them before—they were part of your work. But this one was different. This one came from someone you thought untouchable.
The alley behind the Grill was slick with rain and blood when you found him. Elijah Mikaelson, the ever-composed Original, was slumped against the wall, his once-perfect suit torn and darkened with crimson. His eyes flicked up to you, even as he clutched his side where a white oak dagger had nearly found its mark.
“Y/N,” he rasped, voice steady despite the pain. “You shouldn’t be here.”
You knelt, pressing a hand to his wound before you could think better of it. “And let you bleed out? Tempting, but I still need answers.”
He gave a faint smirk. “How delightfully human of you.”
“And how typically arrogant of you to think I’m helping you out of kindness.”
You hated how close you were. How his breath ghosted against your cheek. How even now, bruised and bloodied, he carried that same damnable composure that made your heart tighten with something dangerously close to respect.
You tore a strip of fabric from your jacket and pressed it to his wound. He winced, and you whispered, almost mockingly, “Who did this to you, Mikaelson?”
His eyes darkened, something old and furious flashing there. “Someone who will regret it.”
Thunder cracked through the night, as if the heavens themselves answered his rage. For a brief moment, you both just stayed there—your hand against his chest, feeling the unnatural heartbeat of a man who had lived a thousand years. You should have walked away. But you didn’t.
The next few days blurred into a strange alliance—filled with sharp arguments and quieter moments where suspicion gave way to uneasy trust. One night, while patching a map together, you teased, “You’re not as insufferable when you’re quiet,” earning a rare smirk from him. The truce began to feel less like tolerance and more like reluctant respect.
You told yourself it was temporary—that you only worked with him to uncover whoever had dared attack an Original. But the more time you spent around him, the less you believed that. Elijah moved like poetry written in blood—controlled, deliberate, and impossible to ignore.
You watched him handle ancient texts in the dim light of his study, each gesture precise. His jaw tensed whenever you ran into danger; his voice softened when he spoke your name. And yet, he was infuriating—lecturing on morality and honor, even as he slaughtered without hesitation when provoked.
Another night, while studying the map together, your fingers brushed his. The contact was fleeting, accidental, yet the way his gaze locked with yours made the air electric.
“You should rest,” he said quietly.
“I’ll rest when the bastard who came after you is ash,” you replied.
“Your loyalty is… unexpected.” His tone carried a weight you couldn’t name.
“Don’t mistake it for loyalty. I just want this over with.”
He smiled faintly. “Of course you do.”
By the end of the week, you often caught yourself reflecting on how strange the partnership had become—two enemies moving in rhythm. Between clashes, there were lingering glances, words unspoken, and a dawning sense that something irreversible was happening.
You had saved each other’s lives twice. Once, when a witch ambushed you in the woods—Elijah took the hit meant for you, his hand closing around your wrist as he muttered, “Run.” The second time, you returned the favor, driving a stake into a vampire’s heart before it could pierce his.
He stared afterward, something unspoken burning in his eyes. “You could have let it hurt me.”
“I could have,” you said simply. “But I didn’t.”
A quiet tension grew between you after that—charged, dangerous. You’d catch him looking at you from across the room, expression unreadable. When you finally confronted him, he only said, “I’m trying to decide if you’re my salvation or my ruin.”
“You’re assuming I can’t be both,” you shot back.
The night you finally snapped, the tension between you had stretched thin as a blade. Every glance, every argument, every unspoken word crackled in the air like lightning before a storm. You could feel your pulse in your throat—anger tangled with something dangerously close to longing. The rain outside mirrored the chaos inside the Mikaelson mansion.
“You think you’re better than everyone else,” you hissed, stepping close enough that your breath brushed his collar. “That you’re untouchable. But you’re just a monster dressed in manners.”
He moved faster than you could blink, pinning you against the wall. His breath was warm against your ear. “And you,” he whispered, voice low and dangerous, “are a liar. Because if you truly hated me, you wouldn’t look at me the way you do.”
Your pulse betrayed you. You should have shoved him away. You didn’t.
“Elijah—”
He leaned in, lips almost brushing yours. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I will stop.”
But you couldn’t. The words died on your tongue. You closed the distance instead.
The kiss was fire meeting storm—violent, inevitable. His hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you there as though afraid you’d vanish. You tasted blood and rain and centuries of restrained hunger. When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours for regret. There was none.
“Don’t make me regret this,” you breathed.
“Then don’t give me a reason to,” he murmured.
The battle erupted without warning, chaos tearing through the night like shattering glass. Heat, smoke, and the metallic scent of blood filled the air, every sound sharp and disorienting. The coven responsible for the attacks had surfaced, and the fight was brutal. Spells cracked, fire licked through the trees, and exhaustion clawed at your bones.
When one of them got the jump on you, Elijah tore through the chaos, ripping the witch away before she could finish her curse.
He caught you as you fell, blood staining his hands again. “Stay with me,” Elijah commanded, voice breaking as he pressed a hand over your wound. “You do not get to die on me, do you hear?”
You smiled weakly. “And here I thought you didn’t care.”
His eyes burned red for a moment before softening into something heartbreakingly human. “I have never cared for anyone more.”
You reached up, brushing his cheek with trembling fingers. “You’re supposed to be the noble one, remember?”
He gave a strangled laugh that wasn’t quite humor. “Then let me be selfish this once.”
Your vision blurred, but you reached for him anyway. The same man you swore you’d never trust. The same monster who had somehow become your home.
“Then don’t let go,” you whispered.
He didn’t.
Later, when the dust settled, he stood at your bedside, his hands still trembling though he’d deny it. “You risked your life for me again,” he said softly.
“I guess I’m a slow learner.”
He smiled, faint and fleeting. “Or perhaps you’ve learned faster than you think.”
“Meaning?”
“That hatred, when tested long enough, becomes something far more binding.”
You looked up at him, exhaustion fading under the weight of what lingered between you. “Then what are we now, Elijah?”
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, eyes filled with something dangerously close to devotion. “Something neither of us were ready for.”
Could I ask for some Kate the Chaser headcanons? Maybe some x Reader? Kate needs more love
I’m SOOOO sorry that this came out so late!! Also I agree - Kate does deserve ALOT more love then she’s given. Hope you like them ^^
Kate The Chaser X S/O Headcanons:
You and Kate rarely argue. Whenever you do it’s normally about your safety.
Your fights never last very long tho, at the first sign of tears the argument is always forgotten and the other goes into protective girlfriend mode.
More then often you'll have to meet in the middle.
She always senses if you're uncomfortable and will become very protective, sometimes too much but you know she means well.
In the rare peaceful moments of your life, she often wonders what your life would be like if everything that happened didn't. Like how you would’ve met, where you would’ve lived, how many animals you would have.
She sometimes has mood swings, especially after coming back from missions. Just hold her as she rants and cries.
Kate is actually quite a big fan of anime and if she’s not with you she can be found lurking in the living room with Ben.
She can't stand to see her s/o sad or in pain, just seeing you like that causes her chest to ache.
Kate isn't interested in children so it's extremely unlikely that you'll have one. She's more of an animal person.
She doesn't sleep often and when she does all she has are nightmares. It calmed down after she met you but they still happen every once in a while.
She can only cook basic things. She’s no Gino D’Acampo.
Loves when it rains as it gives her a sense of peace but also can’t help but feel sad when it does.
She's all for the cheesy couple selfies. She gets all soft and happy when she sees your smile or hears your laugh.
Whenever she's out on a mission she'll purposely keep her phone on and will stop whatever she's doing to message you back.
4-hour long hugs whenever she come back.
Takes you on walks when it's snows.
Her getting the urge to kiss you because you look so beautiful covered in snowflakes but chickens out at the last second.
She'll open up about her past to you when she trusts that you won’t leave her.
“It looks like there’s a current. I’m not going in there.” I peer over the edge again, and swallow the bile rising in my throat.
“It’ll be fine! Even Eddie can do it.” Beverly smiles at me comfortingly.
“Hey!” Eddie shoots daggers and I smile.
“I‘m scared of heights.” I whisper eventually.
“That’s fine! We’re all here to help.” Beverly nudges my arm and winks and I sputter.
“What the fuck? Is there some kinky shit going on here?” Richie snorts and Stan cracks a grin.
“Hey, I-I have an i-idea. Let’s a-all j-j-jump in at once!” Bill says. He looks so excited, and in that second I knew that even if he had suggested jumping into lava, I would have done it.
“Alright, but I’m warning you all now. If any of you land on me, my skin is very delicate and I have unusually small lungs so I can’t stay under as long as everyone else.” Eddie takes a quick puff of his inhaler before placing it carefully on the ground.
“You’ll be fine.” Stan holds Eddie’s hand and offers his other to me.
“God, Stanley. I better not die.” I take it and Bill grabs my other hand carefully. The rest of the losers hold hands.
“On the count of three.” Richie says, and I send a quick prayer to whatever deity is looking over me.
“One.” Dear my guardian angel, please let me survive.
“Two.” It would be great if you could make Bill Denbrough like me back but all I’m hoping for at the moment is to survive this.
“Three.” Stan leaps off, dragging Eddie and I down, which in turn drags Bill and Richie, then everyone else. Piercing screams fill the air as we plummet downwards.
“K-Keep your legs str-straight!” Bill shrieks and holds my hand tighter. We land with a huge splash, and I feel everyone’s grip on my loosen, then disappear. When I come up for air successfully, I hold back a sob. Everyone is cheering and laughing, and I crack a teary smile.
“You o-okay?” Bill grins at me.
“Y-Yeah. I’m fine.” I can’t believe I just did that. My legs are still tingling from when I hit the water, and it feels nice.
“That w-was awesome!” Bill laughs and I can’t help but laugh with him.
“Yeah. It was almost worth the terror.” I say. Richie sniggers.
“Race you all to the ice cream parlour!” Richie shouts as he bolts out of the water. We all shriek and attempt to run after him, but Beverly falls, knocking me, which in turn knocks Stan, who drags Bill down. Bill reaches to drag Eddie, but Eddie squeals and darts away to shore.
“No!” I hurry up and dodge my laughing friends.
“Last one there’s a rotten egg.” I say as I hope on my bike, and pedal quickly. I catch Richie on a hill, and the other Losers catch up quickly.
“Richie I swear to God if you come last-“ I snort as we pedal furiously down the path.
“Suck a Denbrough dick, (Y/n).” Richie shouts as we drop our bikes, (except for Stan), and race inside.
“Beverly! You were last!” Eddie cheers from second last place.
“Damn it. What do I owe you all?” Beverly groans.
“A milkshake each!” Stan suggests. Richie cheers and Beverly groans again.
“You’re all going to be the death of me.” She says with a tired grin.
“Take a seat kids. Shakes will be brought out soon.” The cashier says with an amused smile.
“That booth is free.” Mike says, and we make our way towards it. Bill slides in one side, and I slide in the other, with Eddie next to me. Pretty quickly, the waiter comes over with our shakes.
“And a chocolate one.” He says with flourish. “Here’s your straws.” He leaves after putting the straws on the table.
“I came out here to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.” I announce, as I stare at the empty space in front of me. Richie snorts into his milkshake.
“He gave you a straw, he just forgot the shake.” Beverly says, eyeing the spare straw in the middle. I pick it up and twirl it between my fingers.
“Y-You can sh-share mine.” Bill offers with a shy smile.
“No way! Do you know how much bacteria you’ll be swapping?” Eddie gags and Stan laughs.
“It’s not like they’re snogging. Yet.” Bill chokes on the mouthful he was drinking and I feel my face growing bright red. Fucking Jew.
“Thanks, Bill.” He puts his shake between us and I stick a straw on. I keep my eyes downward as I take a sip, then pull away.
“Mother of fuck, look at them. They’re both bright fucking red. Come on, losers. Let’s leave the lovebirds alone.” Richie suggests, and the others take their milkshakes and relocate to a booth nearby.
“S-Sorry about th-th-them.” Bill whispers.
“It’s fine. I think they know that I have a crush on you. Not sure how. Please, don’t let it change anything between us.” I smile sadly.
“Th-Things can’t g-g-go back to th-the way they were.” Bill says.
“I-I’m sorry.” I say quietly.
“Because n-now I kn-know you like m-me back.” Bill says. My head shoots up and he laughs.
“You like me?” I ask.
“Of c-course I d-do. Th-The second I s-saw you, I l-liked you.” Bill laughs quietly.
“Oh thank God.” I lean across the table and hug him tightly.
“Do y-you want to b-b-b-be my g-girlfriend?” Bill asks hopefully.
