#tvd rp

[lustinleather]

[eternalnoble]

Protective (Klaus Mikaelson x Reader) Fluffmus Special

Masterlist --- Klaus Mikaelson --- Fluffmus

Summary: Where on a night out with Klaus, Elijah and Hayley until someone knocks you and Klaus isn't happy

Word Count: 2.3K

The streets of New Orleans pulsed with energy, a kaleidoscope of lights, music, and voices blending into the lively backdrop. Klaus walked beside you, his hand resting possessively on the small of your back, guiding you through the throngs of revelers. The warmth of his touch sent a tingle up your spine, a stark contrast to the cool night air.

“We could’ve stayed in,” you teased, glancing up at him. “You’re not exactly the pub-going type.”

“Nonsense, love,” Klaus replied with a devilish grin. “I can appreciate a fine drink in the company of friends. Besides, Elijah insisted.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Elijah insisted? Or Elijah suggested, and you’re going along to make sure no one tries to control the evening?”

His laugh was low and rumbling. “Do you know me so well already?”

Moments later, the two of you reached the pub, its warm glow spilling onto the cobblestone street. Music wafted out as Klaus opened the heavy wooden door for you, his usual gentlemanly demeanor intact. Inside, the pub was bustling, its vintage charm enhanced by polished wood, dim lanterns, and the hum of conversation.

In a corner booth near the back, Elijah and Hayley were already seated. Elijah was the picture of elegance, as always, his suit crisp and his posture impeccable. Hayley, in contrast, had an easy, relaxed air, her arms crossed as she sipped from her glass. She spotted you first and waved you over.

“Finally!” she exclaimed as you approached. “I was starting to think you two got lost.”

Elijah rose smoothly, greeting you with a nod. “Always a pleasure,” he said, his gaze lingering on Klaus. “And you’re punctual as ever.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Klaus quipped, sliding into the booth and tugging you down beside him.

“Let’s see how long it takes for him to start trouble,” Hayley whispered to you, earning a smirk.

The banter started almost immediately. Klaus ordered a bottle of whiskey for the table, declaring it a celebration, though no one was quite sure what for.

“To family,” Klaus said as he poured the first round. “And to the fact that we’ve managed not to kill each other this week.”

Hayley raised her glass with a laugh. “I’ll drink to that.”

You clinked glasses, the warm burn of the whiskey spreading through your chest as you took a sip. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of teasing and storytelling. Klaus, ever the dramatist, recounted tales of his centuries-long escapades, earning amused snorts from Hayley and polite chuckles from Elijah.

“Do you remember Paris in the 1700s?” Elijah asked at one point, his tone dry. “When Klaus managed to insult an entire royal court in a single evening?”

“I hardly recall that,” Klaus said, though the smirk tugging at his lips suggested otherwise.

“You told the king his wig looked like a mop,” Elijah said.

Hayley choked on her drink, and you burst into laughter.

“I wasn’t wrong,” Klaus defended, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The laughter only grew as the evening went on. Hayley challenged Klaus to darts, which turned into a fierce competition. Despite his usual confidence, Klaus couldn’t seem to land a bullseye, while Hayley hit three in a row with smug precision.

“Beginner’s luck,” Klaus muttered, though he was laughing as he handed over the darts in mock defeat.

“Maybe you’re just bad at it,” Hayley shot back, winking at you.

Elijah, ever the voice of reason, sipped his drink and leaned toward you. “Do you see what I endure?” he said, his tone dry but affectionate.

By the time the whiskey was replaced with champagne—Klaus’s idea, naturally—the mood had shifted from lively to downright mischievous. Hayley regaled the group with tales of her wolf pack, while Elijah shared snippets of Mikaelson family history that left everyone in stitches.

“Domesticated, Klaus,” Elijah said at one point, smirking over his glass. “Who would have thought?”

“Domesticated?” Klaus echoed, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, I remain as untamed as ever.”

“Sure you do,” Hayley said, leaning back with a smirk. “Right after you read bedtime stories and tuck the little one in.”

The comment had Klaus narrowing his eyes, though there was no heat in his glare. You placed a calming hand on his arm, leaning in to whisper, “She’s not wrong, you know.”

“Traitor,” Klaus murmured, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.

As the night wore on, the four of you returned to the booth, the energy mellow but pleasant. Klaus’s arm draped over your shoulders, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your collarbone. You leaned into him, the warmth of his body a comforting presence as the chatter continued.

“Did you have fun tonight?” you asked softly, glancing up at him.

Klaus tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with affection. “Immensely,” he said, his voice low. “Though I suspect it has more to do with your company than the location.”

From across the table, Elijah raised an eyebrow. “You’ve gone soft, Niklaus.”

Klaus shot him a look, though it lacked any real venom. “Perhaps, brother, you could learn to follow my example. It might do wonders for that stick lodged in your—”

“Elijah, don’t rise to it,” Hayley interrupted, laughing.

You laughed too, shaking your head at their antics. The night felt perfect in its simplicity—a rare moment of peace among the Mikaelson chaos.

Now, as the pub bustled with late-night energy, Klaus and Elijah decided to step outside, leaving you and Hayley at the booth.

Klaus paused before leaving, turning back to you. His hand found yours briefly, his thumb brushing your knuckles in a subtle gesture of affection. “Behave yourself, love,” he teased, his lips curving into that familiar smirk.

“Try to follow your own advice,” you shot back, earning a soft chuckle before he disappeared out the door with Elijah.

Hayley leaned back in her seat, swirling her drink lazily. “You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, you know,” she said with a smirk.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t know about that. Klaus does what he wants.”

“Sure,” she replied, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Because it’s so common for him to act all… calm and domestic.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t deny that Klaus had been surprisingly mellow tonight. It was a rare treat to see him relaxed and genuinely enjoying himself without the weight of his usual schemes.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the ebb and flow of the pub. The lively crowd was a mix of locals and tourists, their laughter and conversation blending with the background music. Just as you were about to suggest ordering another drink, a rough jolt sent you lurching forward in your seat.

“Hey!” Hayley exclaimed, her sharp tone cutting through the noise.

You straightened, turning to see a man who had stumbled into you on his way past the booth. He was unsteady on his feet, the smell of alcohol rolling off him in waves. His disheveled appearance and glassy eyes suggested he’d had far too much to drink.

“Watch where you’re going,” you said, your voice firm but not unkind.

The man muttered something unintelligible, his hand waving dismissively as if your complaint didn’t matter. He turned to walk away, leaving you frowning at his lack of an apology. Hayley’s expression darkened, but before she could say anything, the door to the pub swung open.

Klaus strode back in, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto the scene. His posture tensed, his expression shifting from relaxed to dangerous in an instant. Elijah followed close behind, his brows furrowing as he assessed the situation.

“What’s going on?” Klaus’s voice was low, laced with a quiet menace that made the surrounding conversations fade into the background.

The man froze mid-step, glancing over his shoulder at Klaus. He seemed to recognize the weight of the hybrid’s presence, his body going rigid as Klaus approached.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, placing a hand on Klaus’s arm to calm him. “He just bumped into me, that’s all.”

“Bumped into you?” Klaus repeated, his tone incredulous as his eyes narrowed. His gaze shifted to the man, who now looked decidedly nervous under Klaus’s piercing stare. “Did he apologize?”

The man stammered, taking an unsteady step back. “It was an accident,” he mumbled, his words slurring slightly. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”

“That wasn’t my question,” Klaus said, his voice dropping to a lethal softness. He stepped closer, his presence commanding as the man shrank back further. “I asked if you apologized.”

The man blinked rapidly, his drunken bravado evaporating. “Uh… sorry,” he muttered, glancing between you and Klaus. “I’m sorry, alright?”

“That’ll do,” Elijah interjected smoothly, stepping in to place a hand on Klaus’s shoulder. “Let’s not cause a scene, brother.”

Klaus didn’t move at first, his jaw clenching as he stared down the man. Finally, with a sharp exhale, he relented, stepping back to your side. His hand immediately found yours, his fingers curling protectively around yours.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked, his tone softer now as his intense gaze swept over you.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, squeezing his hand gently. “It was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Klaus echoed, his eyes still stormy. “No one disrespects you, even by accident.”

Hayley smirked, leaning back in her seat. “Relax, Klaus. She’s tougher than she looks.”

“I’m well aware,” Klaus replied without missing a beat. His expression softened further as he turned back to you. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate carelessness at her expense.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his protectiveness, though you tried to hide it. “It’s over now,” you said softly. “Let’s not ruin the night.”

Klaus sighed, the tension in his posture finally easing as he pulled you closer. “Very well,” he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “But if anyone else so much as looks at you the wrong way, they’ll have me to answer to.”

“You’re impossible,” Hayley muttered, though her amused grin betrayed her words.

“Impossible and proud of it,” Klaus replied, his smirk returning as he guided you back to the booth.

Elijah, ever the mediator, raised an eyebrow at Klaus. “Perhaps next time, you could temper your reactions. Not every situation requires a show of dominance.”

Klaus waved a dismissive hand, clearly uninterested in Elijah’s advice. “What’s the point of power, brother, if not to use it when necessary?”

As the group settled back into the easy rhythm of the evening, the tension melted away. Klaus kept a protective arm around you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your shoulder.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “No one touches what’s mine.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your smile soft. “I know,” you whispered back. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The rest of the night passed in warmth and laughter, Klaus’s protective streak a reminder that, beneath his formidable exterior, his love for you was fierce and unyielding.

[glimmerfics]

In this NSFW Choose Your Own Adventure, you're Elijah and Klaus' ex-lover that they'd lost centuries ago -- until now. Will you rekindle your love with them, or...?

Elijah x Klaus x Reader NSFW Choose Your Own Adventure

🔗 READ/PLAY HERE 🎮interactive fanfic "Old Lovers" by Alexander_Black 📖 Episode 1 of ?

[reveliation]

intoxicate me now, with your lovin' now

katherine pierce x fem!reader

sneaking out to bond with your friends over drinks while your girlfriend katherine was asleep was not a good idea. she made sure you felt it. embarrassingly so. (wc: 3.1k)

18+, smut, minors dni, possessive kat, dom kat, sub reader, d/s, angry sex, choking, swearing, argument, punishment, fingering, mentions of cunnulingus, she drinks from you, biting, edging, degradation, dumbification, condescending praise, mommy kink, petnames

masterlist

"She's asleep, guys. Stop worrying. I just have to be back before she wakes up and I'm all good," is what you assured your friends before going to the Salvatore Boarding House to drink with your friends Elena, Stefan, Damon, Bonnie, Caroline, Matt, and Tyler.

Katherine has always been without a doubt, a protective and high-key possessive girlfriend. Where you were and who you were with had always—always mattered to her—especially in this world of vampires, werewolves, hybrids, and supernatural creatures. She would go lengths to keep you safe, even if that meant she had to be firm with your whereabouts. She didn't care that you would have been left out at times with your peers because all that mattered to her was your safety. You appreciated this side of her, as it just showed how much she cared. In her own twisted ways.

This was never really a problem for you, since you still saw your friends, at least with her knowledge. Until one night, one of your best friends Elena impulsively invites the group chat to drink and play games over at the Salvatore's at night. Because of how sudden it was, you weren't really able to let Katherine know ahead. Or really, you didn't want to because she wouldn't have let you. Everyone was down for it, especially since it was a Friday night and the group could use a breather from Mystic Falls and its mysteries.

After telling the group chat that you were coming, you shifted on the sheets of you and Katherine's shared bed to face her—who was laying on her stomach with the soft comforter over her body. Her curls messily cascaded down her pillow and her eyes were fluttered shut. The moonlight from the sheer curtains washed over her striking features, which had softened in her sleep. From the steady rise and fall of her back, you gently shifted from the bed to floor, without making a loud creak.

Each step you took was calculated. Each move was as gentle as not to wake her up. Successfully enough, you were able to change out of your PJs and into a hoodie and shorts. Glancing behind you almost every second whenever her breathing hitched or when you just wanted to make sure she really was fast asleep.

"Elena!" You greeted the girl when she opened the door for you. Her arms squeezed you the moment she saw you, preventing you from hugging back with how she squeezed your arms into you as well. "Look at you, you little rebel!" She teased as soon as she let go of you, allowing you to breathe. "We're playing truth or drink. Come inside!"

She grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you inside, guiding you toward your friends, who were already sat on the floor by the fireplace. Laughter and playful banter echoing across the room. Their eyes lit up when they saw you, and they made space for you between Bonnie and Matt. The shot glass was in front of Tyler now, who placed it in front of you instead, since you missed a round. They cheered, Bonnie shook you slightly by the shoulder to help you loosen up, and then you settled. Pushing away the thoughts and the guilt because of your little escapade. Living in the moment, which was why you were there, anyway.

"Okay, I have a question!" Caroline hushed the group, grinning mischievously. Stefan looked at her, then at you, with a knowing smirk. "Brace yourself," he warned playfully. "She won't go easy," Tyler followed, earning him a smack on the head from the pillow caroline was holding. The rest laughed at this.

"Go on, Care." You encouraged her, who hushed the group once again before speaking. "When you and Katherine have sex..."

"God, you're really starting with that?" Damon spat out. Elena laughed at this. "It's Caroline, how are you not used to this?" "Seriously?!" Caroline cut through the laughter once again. "Come on! Let me ask my question! Okay? Okay..."

"When you and Katherine you know, do it... Has she ever roleplayed being a vampire for you?" You almost choked on your own saliva at her bluntness. "It's not roleplay if she is a vampire, Care." Bonnie corrected her. "Yeah, but I mean, does she like, bite her?" Caroline clarified before looking back at you. "You know. The kinky stuff!"

"You mean does she drink from me?" A nervous chuckle escaped you at the thought. She hasn't done that. "No." That was the truth. She hasn't. Not yet, at least. But honestly? The chances of her doing that with you isn't very slim. Sex with her has always been so intense. Passionate. Unpredictable in ways that have always left you breathless and aching for more.

The night went on. Rounds and laughter blurred into one another until you lost track of time. It's a good thing you didn't get drunk even though you chose to take shots for the next rounds of questions for you. Luckily enough, those were only two questions. How would you sneak back inside the house with a fuzzy mind and lack of balance? Even though sneaking out was a risk, you knew better than to get yourself caught.

A vibration from your hoodie's pocket froze you from where you were seated. Their voices faded into background noise, and as those vibrations followed one after the other, your breath hitched. They were completely oblivious to this, except for Elena, who mouthed "You okay?" which you nodded at before taking a deep breath. You wiped your sweaty palms into your sleeves before mindlessly checking your phone. Bracing for what you knew it was.

kitty kathy <33

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU???

Your face went pale at the first message you saw.

kitty kathy <33

missed call

missed call

hey

pick up the damn phone

missed call

is that how you wanna do this????

share your location with me rn

who the hell are you with this late at night??????

i swear to god

missed call

if you don't answer right this fucking second you won't like what's gonna happen

missed call

oh???

okay

1:03 AM

"I... have to go check something, guys." You stood up, and before they said something back, you took quick steps right outside the door. Out in the cold. Your palms were sweaty and your heartbeat threatened to rip out of your chest as your mind ran endlessly with enough excuses or explanations.

you:

i'm omw home

The house was silent when you stepped in. The couch, where you had expected Katherine to be, up and waiting for you, was empty. You gently clicked the door shut and locked it before taking your shoes off. Your chest rose and fell from all that walking—catching your breath while your head was clouded of what to expect the moment you got home. Screaming. Fighting. But instead? It was silent.

You didn't dare walk further into the house yet. Hell, you didn't want to face her. Guilt washed over you for pulling that, knowing how worried she can get. Especially that late at night.

The hard wall hurt your back with a thud as she whooshed with inhumane speed from the hallway with her hand wrapped around your throat with enough strength to make you slightly dizzy. She was still in her black silk nightgown with the lace trim. Her sweet, sandalwood scent, a complete contrast to what awaited you. Her brows were furrowed. Brown eyes pierced through you like she could already see every step you took and everything you did just to go behind her back and drink. "What the fuck were you thinking?" She breathed lowly. Her voice, still calm. Not in a safe way, no. But somehow? This was worse than her yelling. You stilled. Gauging her face. Her reactions. What to say.

"I-I'm sorry," you squeaked between breaths, holding onto her wrist like an anchor. Her nails dug into your skin at the sides of your throat. "Wasn't... thinking." You struggled against her. "I was at the Salvatore's with Caroline and the others." She let out a deeper breath at this. It was unclear whether or not she was satisfied with it, but you knew damn well she wasn't the moment she harshly let go of your throat to pin you against the wall with your shoulders instead. "Do you even know what time it is?"

"How easy it would have been for you to just ask? For you to just stay?!" Her voice had risen, but instead of giving up? Instead of retreating and apologizing again just to get it over with? Your blood simmered in frustration with her choice of words. "It's not like you would have let me go even if I asked you, right?!" Without thinking, you answered back with a sharp tongue. Her hold on you loosened along with when her brow shot up. The look on her face told you all you needed to know, and you had it coming. She didn't bite back. She scoffed, then she laughed. A dark, incredulous laugh until she let go of you to cross her arms against her chest.

"You knew I would have said no." Her tone dropped. Like a switch was flipped. She shook her head, her features, sharper. "And you still went."

"I didn't—"

"It's late at fucking night, of course I would have not let you!" She cut you off. "You know damn well what could have happened to you out there!"

"You even ignored every single one of my calls and texts and yet you have the nerve to talk back. Is that how you wanna be now? You wanna be a fuckin' brat?"

Just like that, heat rushed to your lower stomach. An aching, burning, heat that no matter how serious or defiant you had to be at that moment—you couldn't shake it. She was getting angry. And you? You were getting off on it. The way her breath hitched. Her chest rose. Her screaming about how she didn't want you out there. It got to you. And god, you tried. You really tried not to think about it. "What the fuck are you looking at?" She spat. "N-nothing." You managed to let out. Blinking away the dirty thoughts that gnawed at you. How she had just choked you against the wall. How possessive and angry her texts were.

In the blink of an eye, she moved closer until your chest touched. And before you reacted, her hand went under your shorts, and beneath your damp panties. "Dirty little bitch." She groaned. Her fingers were cold, sliding between your wet folds to gather your wetness. You bit back a whimper, but she caught this with her lips, which crashed against yours in pent-up frustration. Her free hand held your hip as she deepened it, her tongue darting inside with unapologetic confidence.

She pulled back slightly just to leave a small space between your mouths. "You're this drenched? Already? From what? Riling me up?" She breathed out, teasing the bottom of your clit with her thumb. "Pathetic."

Before even responding at all, you were pinned against your bed and so was her mouth against yours, heat growing between you two while her tongue danced against yours in fervor. Swallowing your moans before sliding your bottoms off in impatience with your mouth still on hers. Her fingers still teased your wetness, without fully giving into what you wanted yet. She pulled back for you to catch your breath before kissing down your jaw breathlessly. "Tell me," she said between rough kisses. "What were you doing there and why the fuck does your breath reek of alcohol?"

"W-we just played..." You inhaled shakily as she continued her dangerous kisses right below your ear. "We played truth or drink. I only had two shots, I swear. I'm not and I wasn't drunk."

"Yeah?" Her chuckle sent more heat down your core. "Couldn't answer all questions?"

"I actually answered one out of the three."

Oh shit.

"What was the question?" She had found your pulse point, which was beating hard beneath her lips. She sucked on it, making you arch your back from the bed slightly. "I... forgot." You breathlessly responded.

"Liar." She slid a finger into your dripping cunt and curled it just right, making you whine. "You don't get this wet just from seeing me angry. You were asked something dirty, you couldn't stop thinking about it, and you're not telling me what it is."

"Was it about me?" She punctuated with another thrust of her middle finger before adding her ring finger into the mix. Your hands gripped the sheets at the sensation. "Yeah? Is that it?"

"I forgot, please..." You lied again.

"Bullshit." Her fingers thrusted harder against your spot, making you let out an even louder moan, which you muffled by biting down your lip.

"F-fine..." You whimpered. "Caroline asked me... If...we...you..."

"Uhuh? Yeah?" She mocked, finding a rhythm with every push and curl of her fingers. "I don't understand. Speak."

"She asked if you bit me during sex..." You managed to let out between heavy breaths. "If you roleplayed as... a vampire... I said no."

"Mm, that's what got you all worked up the moment you walked through that door?" She teased, making you close your eyes in humiliation. "No it's n-not that I just- I dunno-"

"I could smell how wet you were, it was addicting. Don't test me." The sharpness in her tone got you once again. You ground against her hand which was working between your legs. She kissed your neck again. This time, her fangs elongated and you felt them.

"Please, mommy..." You begged in the haze of her actions. "Bite me... Feed on me, please..."

Her laugh vibrated against your neck, then she leaned to whisper in your ear. "Do you know just how pathetic of a slut you sound right now? How desperate of a whore you have to be to literally beg me to feed on you?"

"Yes mommy, I'm pathetic..." Her words didn't hurt you at all. You moaned louder, especially at how aggressive her touch had gotten down there. "Please bite me, drink, please- just- please..."

"You want mommy to drink, yeah? Want me to drain you? Is that it?"

You nodded frantically, desperate for the sensation. The feel of her fangs in your neck. Your blood, going into her mouth in sweet yet hungry pulls. God—did that do things to you. Because she couldn't resist you, her mouth hovered over your pulse point once more. Breathing against it. Her hot breath against your cold skin. She gave it a soft peck before sucking on it, making sure it would leave a mark, before slowly lowering herself on it. Her fangs punctured your neck causing you to gasp at the sharp yet intoxicating pain. Her mouth closed around it, and she moaned as she sucked out in slow and steady pulls.

She pulled back to catch her breath before diving back in, this time, a dizzying and oddly euphoric feeling intensified the pleasure she was working with between your legs. "Tastes so fucking sweet." When you whimpered, she let go to look at you. Her mouth, covered in your blood. Her breath, shallow, yet satisfied.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when your muscles contracted and she took you closer to the brink of pleasure with her fingers alone. "Mommy... I-I'm gonna..."

"Gonna come, baby?" She smirked, eyes flickering onto you up and down. "Do you deserve it?"

"What?!" A sharp whimper escaped from you when her fingers stopped moving, right after you were about to crash over the edge. You shook your head frantically, taking shallow breaths.

"You were being such a stubborn, rebellious and all-knowing little brat earlier tonight." Her voice took on that sharp edge once more, and when you desperately chased the friction and rhythm with your hips, her free hand held it down the mattress with enough force. "Stop moving."

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes in utter frustration when she slowly slid her fingers out of you. You were so close to finishing, and it was cruel how she denied you. Just like that.

"Please, please, I'll do anything you ask of me, please Katherine..." You whined. "I won't go out anymore, I won't... I won't ever do that again..."

Her face was stern. She wouldn't budge. Wouldn't speak. Just stared down at you like the mess you were for her. You knew she wouldn't give in like that, and you were itching for her to just finish you off.

"I'll go down on you, too... I'll make you cum, I will. Anything you ask, I'll do it... Please just let me have this."

She thrust her fingers back into you without warning and began to move in a slow—tortuous pace. It hurt badly to wait like that. "You poor little thing..."

"My baby wants to cum? Hm?" She hummed in the most condescending tone ever if you didn't love her you'd want to rip her tongue out. She just managed to make everything hot now. Especially her voice. "Yeah? Say it, babydoll. Tell mommy how much you wanna cum. Say you're sorry. Maybe I'll give it to you."

"S-so bad... sor-rry..." You struggled as her fingers went harder, yet still not quite enough to push you over the edge. "I...sorry- Uhh... y-yeah..."

"Speak up, princess. I know you can." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the tone she used, you could almost see stars.

"C-can't...speak... Can't think..." A filthier whine escaped your lips at the immense yet aching pleasure. "Mommy help me... Please... Please?"

"Aww, yeah? Yeeeeah? my dumb little slut can't think for herself, can she?" She finally began to pick up her pace. Driving you closer and closer to the edge until senseless words and messy moans were the only things that she could spill from your mouth. "Feel it. That's what you get for disobeying, you mindless whore. I bet you like this, even. You like when your hollow brain shuts off because all you can feel are my fingers in your tight pussy."

"I w-wanna, eurghdnb I- yeah, mhm yes- f-fuck-"

"My poor, poor baby... What am I gonna do with you?" She taunted further. "Can't do anything without me. Is that right? Shouldn't have been so sneaky, then."

"Y-yes mommy..." You groaned uncontrollably, getting closer and closer to the brink of pleasure. She had reduced you into senseless babbles, and your brain has completely shut off. "Too gone to think, mhm? Too stupid?" She knew damn well what effect those words had on you.

"Mommy's gonna help you, pretty girl... Fuck, you're clenching around my fingers... That's it. Lemme take you there." She kissed you and while you failed to kiss her back, she bit your lip playfully before releasing it between her teeth. "Come. Now."

The speed and the right amount of pressure sent you right over the edge, eliciting a loud gasp from you. You clenched around her fingers as colors began to burst behind your lids. Her fingers slowed down, but didn't stop entirely. Riding you through your pleasure.

She kissed your forehead as she did this, before telling you off one more time. "You'll never go behind my back again." You caught your breath, your dazed expression did nothing but soften her up, even if she wanted to be stern with you. "I might do it again if it gets me like this every time..."

[wonderfullyinlovewithlife]

Cat Fight part 2

part 1

Pairing: Kai Parker X Reader Summary: When a fight with the girls leads you into the arms of a reformed sociopathy, you get to experience first hand how bad (and borderline manipulative) his new brand of empathy happens to be.

Warning: Mention of drugs, inter-female competitiveness, Caroline Forbes being insecure. Kai Being Kai. Very cannon typical. Mention of Jeremy Gilbert. Lots of small town judgement on him. Also, I love thinking about mystic falls and they dynamics of that place so there is lots of emphasis on class and the importance of reputation yada yada. In this piece I wanted to build up the internal dynamics of space that rests so heavily on reputation, and so we see that in our reader where she seems to be subconsciously representing her background. I also write about the nature of some (NOT ALL PEOPLE LETS USE OUR BRAINS HERE) female relationships can be. Reader is a little bitchy here, (but i love that kind of oc), and so really you just get to see how small communities pit women against each other until it becomes a natural part of their life and personality. Guys its also no secrete but I love trees so I am THROWING you all into Mystic FALLS, whether you like it or not!!!!!

..................................................................................................................................

The abandoned Lockwood cellar had become his latest hiding place, though you had yet to see the appeal.

An overwhelming smell of mildew filled the space. It was earthy and cold, clinging to the back of your throat. A strange, velvet-green moss that bled across the damp stone walls, filling the air with a fuzz you could taste in your mouth if you found yourself talking for too long. 

You’d come in a hurry, though there was no real need to rush. No one was chasing you, and you knew that Kai would be there no matter what time you rolled around. You knew that he'd be waiting. Plotting. Doing whatever it was he liked to do in that strange little hole. Still, you found yourself racing through getting ready, your hands a little shaky as you applied your eyeliner.

The woods bordering the property were beautiful. Quiet. Steeped in the sharp, pine-heavy chill of early autumn. White oaks and towering tulip poplars stretched impossibly high above the winding paths, their crowns just beginning to surrender to shades of amber and crimson, while Virginia pines stood dark and unwavering between them. Moss crept over old stone walls and fallen logs, and the forest floor rolled in gentle hills beneath blankets of fern and maple leaves.

It was easy to take a place like this for granted when you saw it every day. Though as you carefully marched over exposed tree roots, not wanting to slip and fall on the patches of mud that formed around them, you couldn't help but feel a little guilty at how you'd forgotten what it had meant to live in such a place. Forgotten what a privilege it was to be so thoroughly surrounded by the sublime.

...

By the time you reached Kai, you'd been walking for over an hour.

Outside the cellar entrance, beside the rusted iron gate, empty beer cans half-buried beneath damp leaves. Some were crushed. Others seemed cut open, strange orange crescents of rust forming on the inner smooth part of the tin.

Figures, you thought.

It was well known that the druggies who used to hang around here had always treated the place like a dumping ground. It only stopped a little after all the 'animal-attacks' started.

But looking at all the mess only worsened your already sour mood.

You knew how much this kind of thoughtlessness hurt the people who truly cared.

You grew up at the Council Historical Restoration Society's luncheons, where your aunts, draped in matching pearl necklaces and pastel sinamay hats, spent entire afternoons trying to preserve some part of the charm they were convinced Mystic Falls was slowly losing. Over chicken salad and sweet tea, they worried about the cemetery, the church, property values, what visitors must think when they drove through town. You remembered how diligently they organised clean-ups, fundraisers, restoration projects. How personally they took it when a headstone had been knocked over, when litter appeared along the roadside.

You understood why.

They loved this place. They wanted it cared for. They wanted it to keep its traditions. Treat it with the same respect they did.

Your mind went immediately to Jeremy Gilbert. To that once sixteen-year-old boy leaning against the back wall of the high school car park in a faded My Chemical Romance hoodie, cigarette hanging from his lips while Vicki Donovan laughed beside him. Handing out pills and packets and cartons of something.

God. You hated that you still thought of him in that way. That you hadn't really moved on.

He'd been clean for years now. Elena had told you as much.

You'd seen it for yourself. He was a completely different person now at twenty-two.

And yet the second you saw the bottles, your mind had reached for him before anyone else. It wasn't fair. It wasn't even logical. It was just...

Childish, was the first word that came to mind.

Childish and embarrassingly petty. As though some part of you had refused to let Jeremy grow up, even when he had.

You pushed open the metal gate and started down the concrete steps. Poorly graffitied penises covered the walls, layered over old initials and faded spray paint. You barely looked at them.

You'd always thought you were more discerning than that. Better at seeing people for who they were instead of who they'd been.

Apparently not, you sighed as you dipped your head and made way deeper into the cellar.

...

Inside, a single camping lantern threw pale amber light over the dirt floor without doing a thing to warm the air.

Kai had redecorated in his own frantic way. A sturdy oak table had appeared in the middle of the cellar, dragged in from somewhere, along with a handful of mismatched chairs. The tabletop was buried beneath maps. Your nice marker pens (the ones you'd bought last week and assumed you'd misplaced) sat neatly gathered in a glass you recognised.

When you stepped off the bottom stone stairs, he was sitting on an overturned crate, shuffling a greasy deck of cards. A picture of Saint Peter stuck to centre of his make-shift coffee table.

He glanced up once.

"You look disappointed."

"In what?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "The world. Yourself. Pick one. I don't really care."

"Liar." You smirked as you sat down in front of him. "I know that it's actually killing you not knowing what, and who, has most recently pissed me off."

He looked up smiling. "The floor is all yours."

He placed three cards in front of you, face up. Adding another one to the top as you made yourself comfortable. He looked very pleased with himself. Though there was a shyness to it. Like he didn't want you to know you had done something to please him. It was strange.

Though it was always strange watching him do anything relatively normal these days. Like smiling, for example. Watching him respond almost...positively to affirmation, conversation, all the other many forms human engagement came in, had you a little confused. There was such great intensity where there should have been lightness. Thought where there should have been feeling.

Before the merge, his smirk had been effortless, you figured that it was mostly because there was nothing underneath it to anchor it down. It was all teeth, entertainment, and a hollow sort of cruelty that meant nothing cost him anything. Any normal person would feel uncomfortable. You found it a little attractive, but that was something you were taking to the grave.

Now, you noticed, there were these pauses. These tiny, jagged hesitations when some kind of soft emotion gripped him, before he had even had the chance to deny it from himself.

Having absorbed Luke, Kai was stuck carrying a dead boy’s capacity for empathy. The magic had come with emotions that clearly didn't know where to live in a mind like Kai's; they wandered through him like strangers in an empty house, opening doors that should have stayed locked. You saw it in the way he sometimes stared at you too long, trying to figure out what he was feeling. In how he apologized halfway through a sentence, looking thoroughly irritated with himself a second later.

Sometimes he laughed at something you said—like, really laughed—and looked so painfully embarrassed at the fact that he had meant it, that he'd change the subject. Try say something cutting. Cruel. Something that, in its awkwardness, reminded you of socially inept thirteen-year-old trying to seem cool.

"You look terrible, by the way. In case I hadn't mentioned it." he said, clearing the table of cards and then redealing. You got three sixes, all in different suits. Kai looked up at you confused, as if you had been the ones who placed the cards down.

"I appreciate the honesty."

"I wasn't trying to be honest."

"--Redeal the cards." You interrupted.

"I was trying to insult you."

You let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well then, I hate to break it to you, Kai, but you've lost your touch. 'You look terrible' doesn't exactly have the bite your earlier work did. You just sound like a mean eight-year-old.

"I know," he muttered, sounding almost disappointed with himself as he let the cards fall into a crooked pile.

You let yourself sit beside him on the edge of the table; not close enough to touch, but close enough to notice the faint scatter of freckles disappearing beneath the collar of his Henley, the fresh scab on his upper arm, the small tear fraying at the neckline. You caught yourself wondering whether he'd let you take him shopping for a new one, then quickly pushed the thought aside, unwilling to examine this unfamiliar tenderness growing inside you, this quiet desire to care for him. 

Neither of you spoke for a while. Outside, the sky finally broke, and rain began to tap a dull, rhythmic pattern against the small, high cellar windows. Not completely unexpected for a Virginia autumn.

"I had a fight," you finally admitted, the words tasting sour. Stupid.

"I know." “You know?"

"Yeah." He turned to you, smiling. "I watched Elena leave your house crying. It wasn't hard to put together."

You reached out, your fingernail picking uselessly at the peeling label of an empty beer bottle left on the table. "Yeah, well. It was her own fault. She shouldn’t have gotten in the middle of it.” “Middle of what exactly?”

“Caroline and her big mouth."

"What happened?"

"She went about on her little tirade. Convinced that she just had to tell me how to live my life, and what she would do if she were me, and why I was in the wrong for being pissed at Stefan and-."

Kai cut you off smoothly, leaning in a little closer than he usually would.

"You know, three weeks ago the same thing happened."

"That was different."

He shrugged. "Either way. This isn't exactly unusual for her. This is Caroline we are talking about."

"I know." You snapped.

"So why are you blowing a casket over a rerun?"

"'Cause this time Elena was practically falling over herself to agree with her."

"She would." There was the faintest softness to his voice. "Miss Gilbert's got this weird compulsive need to make herself everybody's collateral damage."

"Okay, but she can be somebody's collateral damage when the person she's defending is actually in the right. I'm a grown adult. I have every right not to want anything to do with either Salvatore. Especially after what happened to Bonnie because of them—"

"Neither of those two are going to see it from your side long enough to start behaving rationally." He gave you an amused look. "Considering they're both sleeping with the enemy."

"Hush." You pressed your palm against his cheek and pushed his face away. "I'm being serious, and you're making jokes."

He caught your wrist before you could pull back and drew your hand into his lap instead, his thumb settling absently against the inside of your wrist.

"You know I'm right." You said plainly.

He looked up and sighed. "I know." He said. Almost tired sounding.

"They don't want to admit it's only going to get worse from here. We're not teenagers anymore. We can't keep blaming the big, bad vampires every time someone gets hurt just because we're afraid of what it might mean if we don't. We're complicit. Ever since Klaus cleared out, every bad thing we've done has been because we thought it would get us want we wanted faster." You took a deep breath, glad to finally have it all out in the open.

"-And I told them what would happen if Bonnie tried to cross into the Other Side. I told them what those other witches would do—how they wouldn't forgive her, how they'd come after her—and..." Your voice broke. "They thought that because it was for the greater good, it would be okay."

You swallowed.

"God, I don't know what I was expecting. I guess I just wanted someone to stand beside me this time. Pick my side. Just once. Without worrying about keeping the peace with their boyfriend."

Kai looked down at your hand in his. His thumb traced the curve of one of your nail extensions before drifting over your fingers. He turned your hand over gently, laying it against his own.

You watched him compare them. His hands were long-fingered, roughened from weeks in the woods, his thumbnail still missing from some forgotten fight he refused to explain.

"I would've," he said.

You frowned.

"Chosen you, I mean." He rubbed his thumb absently across the back of your hand. "Picked your side." His voice dipped lower. "Even if you were in the wrong."

"I wasn't in the wrong here."

"You're not really listening to what I'm saying."

He didn't look at you after he said it, as though meeting your eyes would somehow make him take it back.

But he didn't.

The words stayed where he'd left them.

Your throat tightened.

"You're just saying that." Your words were quiet.

"You know I'm not."

You tried to pull your hand back into your own lap, but he wouldn't let you.

"They won't come around. Stop taking it to heart. You're better than that."

You sighed, tapping at the Saint picture in the middle of the table. The picture caught your attention. Then the cards. The candles. The weird symbols he had carved all around it.

"Girl, were you practicing voodoo in here?"

He smiled sheepishly, finally letting go of your hand and redealing the cards.

.....

Half an hour turned into an hour. And you found yourself still in the cellar. Laughing at something stupid Kai had said.

"God." You rubbed your hands over your thighs, trying to coax some warmth back into them. 

"You know..." Your voice took on that familiar, theatrical lilt; the one that always crept in before you admitted something you probably should've kept to yourself. "I'd really like to get high right about now."

Kai blinked. "Like, seriously?"

You shrugged.

"Huh." He frowned, considering it. "I've never actually done drugs."

You turned to stare at him. "What?"

"Nothing. Not even in high school."

"But Kai, you've literally committed multiple felonies."

"So?"

"The FBI has your face on a poster?"

"Those weren't recreational felonies." He sounded mildly offended by the comparison. "Completely different category."

You laughed.

"I'm just saying, I was an excellent student in high school." He lifted a finger, as though presenting evidence. "Homework handed in on time. Extra credit always done. You're looking at a reformed teacher's pet, you know."

"There's no way. I want to see a report card."

"Get Bonnie to conjure it up for you."

"I'm serious." You playfully pushed his knee with yours. 

"I know."

He leaned back against the log, studying you with an expression that made you suddenly aware of yourself. "You know this week has been pretty good for me."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." He tilted his head. "I made it my mission to learn everything I could about you. Figure a part of this town out. And I collected enough information that I start a very concerning scrapbook. I left it in your kitchen."

“I didn’t see it.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Typical.” His tone one of false mocking.  “It confirmed the suspicions I had about you though. All my evidence in one place like that.”

“And?" You were trying not to laugh.

"And I've concluded you peaked at seventeen. And that I also find scrapbooking to be quite fun."

"Excuse me!?"

"Relax." A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I was careful with your glittery pens."

"Kai."

"I’m kidding! But you were just...like, absurdly popular. Like, scary popular. Honestly, talking to people about you felt like I was interviewing former cult members."

"Everyone was completely fascinated by you." He gestured vaguely with one hand. "What you're doing, what you're wearing, where you've been. Apparently you're always travelling now—which, by the way... how do they even know that?"

“Did you include that in your scrapbook?”

“Yep. I made this little introduction at the beginning, felt like it was the best place to put all these details.” He smiled. “Anyways, apparently, you’ve always been the kind of girl who walked through the halls expecting people to move out of your way, which, I have to tell you, was nice to hear. I have to admit I was a little afraid you picked that up from me.”

"Firstly, I have never been that kind of girl. Whoever said that was lying."

"Nu-uh, you most certain were!"

"Was not!"

"Was too."

"Was not."

"Was too! Matter of fact, you still are you!"

You opened your mouth to fire back, then closed it again.

A slow, satisfied smile crept onto his face. "You forget I watch you closely. So, closely, that I notice how when we go out to eat—you’ve got this whole 'don't bother me, pleb' vibe going on when guys or randos come up to you” He shrugged. “I dig it. It's very, very hot."

"You're spouting nonsense."

"It's only nonsense if there are no facts to back it up," Kai said smoothly. "And I found your yearbook, so checkmate." He leaned back against the table, resting his chin in his hand. "Cheer captain. Track team. Debate champion. Plus a bunch of scary-looking AP classes. Admit it—you were an evil dictator…."

You rolled your eyes. "What I was, Kai, was a busy girl concerned about her future."

Closing the distance between you, you leaned in until your breath brushed warm against the sensitive skin of his neck. His posture locked instantly. The cocky smirk faltered on his lips, his pulse visibly jumping under his collar as his breath caught in his throat.

"Is that what makes me evil?" you asked, dropping your voice into a sultry, dangerous whisper. "My love of education?"

Kai swallowed hard, his dark eyes darkening further as his gaze dropped to your lips before snapping back to yours. The casual, teasing air evaporated, leaving something far more charged in its place.

"More like your terrifying desire to win," he murmured, his voice a gravelly beat lower than before.

"Tomato, tomatoe."

"You were worshipped." 

"I think that's a stretch," you said, leaning back. Rolling your eyes.

"Is it?" He looked at you for a long moment, the pale amber light of the lantern catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones. "Mystic Falls isn't exactly subtle. I’ve noticed that it likes to sort people into neat little boxes so that the old money knows who to smile at at the Founders' Day parade. No one here has moved on from anything ever." 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, leaning back against the cold stone, your voice dropping into that quiet, defensive space.

"It means you spent four years at the absolute top of the food chain." His gaze drifted toward the rain beginning to pool by the cellar steps. "Explains a lot."

"Like what?"

"Like why every conversation somehow ends up being about you, Elena, or Caroline." He shrugged. "You'd think there were thirty people living in this town instead of a few thousand. Every time I'd go talk to someone, unprompted they'd ask about you. 'Oh you know y/n....Oh you she once said this, or once I saw her wear that, and oh she's just so pretty, did you know that when she was in high school---'"

You frowned a little, unsure of what to say.

"Like I said. Nobody has ever moved on from anything here. But I don't know why I'm so surprised. Nobody ever actually leaves high school here, do they? You all just get older, and pretend the hierarchy resets at graduation.” He smiled to himself.

You opened your mouth to push back, but Kai cut you off before you could start.

"Caroline still measures herself against Elena," he said smoothly. "But she measures Elena against you."

"What?"

"Like I said, I notice things." Kai shrugged, a faint, private smile tugging at his mouth. "Kind of unavoidable when you're always the one standing outside looking in."

He glanced at you. "Caroline watches you."

"Not all the time. Just enough." He rubbed his thumb absently against his palm. "If you compliment her, you can kind of tell she'll think about it for the rest of the day. If you disagree with her..." He gave a small shrug. "She starts explaining herself before you've even said she's wrong."

"That's not—"

"It is."

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His voice clinical. 

"And then she gets mad."

You blinked.

"Not at you." His mouth twitched. "At herself. Because for a second she cared what you thought."

"I think…that's what bothers her most." His gaze drifted toward the rain-dark windows. "She wants to be you just long enough to prove she never wanted to be you in the first place."

He looked back at you. "It’s not that she dislikes you. Girls are weird. She actually loves you. That much I am certain off. You’re her best friend. Better than Bonnie, or even Elena, sometimes. But…” He looked almost amused. "Every time she starts feeling good about herself..." 

He shrugged. "...you walk into the room.”

You stared at him, the damp cellar air suddenly feeling much colder against your skin. "She doesn't do that."

"She does." His voice was soft, devoid of his usual mockery—just stark, cold truth. "She laughs a little louder when you laugh. Trying to 'out-laugh' you, if that's even a thing. Like I see how her eyes are strained on you. Wanting to just do that extra bit so people look to her first, and then, you. Not the other way around."

He leaned in, his forearms resting on his knees, closing the distance between you until you could see the dark specks in his irises.

"I don't think she even knows she's doing it," Kai murmured. "It’s muscle memory for her. She can become a vampire, she could go on to organize every charity gala in Virginia, she could act like she runs the world... but the second you walk into the room, she's back to being fifteen years old, desperately waiting to see if the prettiest girl in school thinks she's worthy of sitting at the same table."

Silence settled heavy between you, thick with the smell of wet earth and ancient pine outside.

"That's just Caroline," you said quietly, looking down at your hands, at the manicured nails picking at the edge of your sleeve. "She overthinks everything." 

A low laugh escaped him as he caught the flicker of recognition across your face.

"No." Kai's gaze met yours, sharp and unwavering. His eyes flicked—just once—to your mouth before returning to your own, almost as if he'd caught himself.

The room seemed to shrink.

He leaned forward a fraction, close enough that you could hear the slow pull of his breath. His voice dropped. "I bet you know it too. That's why you get so irritated when she fixates on the little things. You know she's just acting out." He tilted his head. "A sad, exhausted attempt to claw back some control over how you make her feel. How you make them all feel. It must be overwhelming, having to constantly be conscious of how your existence makes others feel small. How you've got to manage yourself, lest someone get upset or something.”

“I mean what else could have you running to a formerly homicidal murderer for comfort—"

“Kai Parker. Are you trying to empathise with me? Because, right now, you sound kinda like a dick–”

He looked away embarrassed. “I’m not wrong.”

“It’s not about being right or wrong Kai.” You felt something warm in your chest. “Your attempts at camaraderie are clumsy at best, and mildly manipulative at worst. But I think I understand what you’re saying.”

“You don’t.” He replied curtly. "You never do." To any other person the complete change in mood would give them whiplash, but you understood. You’d embarrassed him.

You sighed. Pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes until little bursts of colour bloomed behind your eyelids. For a moment, that headache you felt on the horizon of your mind dissipated. 

When you lowered your hands, Kai was already looking at you.

"I don't think drugs work the way television says they do," he offered carefully. "They don't turn off your brain. They just make the noise louder in a different key."

You hummed, pleased he was willing to move on.

"They won't fix your friends."

"I know."

"They definitely won't fix me."

You looked up, confused. "I wasn't trying to fix you."

"You should probably start," he muttered, though there was no real bite to it. "We could all use the help."

"You need more than just my help Kai." You leaned your head back against the cold stone wall. “You know what strange....they all think you’re so dangerous. Just a real hazard.”

"I generally am."

"And yet,” you said, turning your head to look at him, "lately, you’re the only person I find I can sit with and not slowly lose my mind next too.”

Kai stared at you. For a second, he looked completely blank, as if you were speaking a dead dialect he hadn't learned yet.

"I don’t think you shouldn't say things like that," he said slowly.

"Why?"

"Because..." He frowned, his jaw tightening as he searched for the words, visibly frustrated by his own sudden lack of vocabulary. "...because I don't know what I'm supposed to do after."

"You don't have to do anything." You said softly.

"But I feel like I should. Isn't that what people do? When someone says something nice, you're supposed to... trade? Like you’ve come here to unburden yourself, and then I’ve got to like, confess something too so that we are equally emotionally exposed?" 

His honesty was almost painful to watch. 

For a moment your mind flashed to the Kai you could almost remember Kai from before the merge, when he’d hidden behind levity because nothing could touch him. When he wouldn't ever let you see his confusion over such things. Now, raw and unbuffered, he had no armor left to wear. For some reason, it made you ache. You wanted to kiss him.

A few moments passed in silence. 

"I think," he said, the words coming out measured and deliberate, "I like you."

You looked at him, taking in the nervous, slight twitch near his eye, the way his hands clamped tight over his knees.

"I know," you said softly.

"No." He shook his head, looking almost annoyed by your answer. "I don't think you do."

"What am I missing?"

Kai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, closing the small distance between you until you could feel the slight radiate of heat coming off him in the freezing room.

"You think 'liking someone' means I want to take you to a diner and buy you a milkshake," Kai said, his voice dropping into that quiet, hyper-focused tone he used when he was siphoning. "You think it's sweet. It's not. I don't know how to do sweet. Luke's feelings are in here"—he tapped his chest hard enough to make a dull thud—"but my head is still mine. And my head is a mess."

He held your gaze, refusing to let you look away.

"When I like something, I get obsessed with it," he continued, a faint, sharp edge returning to his voice. "I track it. I want to hoard it. If Stefan Salvatore likes someone, he writes in a diary about how much he respects their boundaries. If I like you, it means if Caroline Forbes ever speaks to you like that again, I'm going to rip her tongue out through her throat and hand it to you in a box. And the bad part is... half of me knows that's wrong now, but the other half still thinks it's a great idea."

He paused, breathing a little faster, searching your face for horror.

"So," Kai said, leaning back just an inch, his shoulders tense. "That's what you're missing. I don't like you like a normal person. I like you like a sick person who just found the only thing that stops the ringing in his ears."

The cellar was dead quiet, save for the steady drum of rain outside and the low hiss of the lantern's flame.

You didn't flinch. You didn't move away.

Slowly, you reached over and picked up the deck of cards from the table, sliding them out of their battered box and squaring the edges against the oak wood.

"Well," you said, keeping your voice steady as you split the deck to shuffle, "at least you know what you want."

Kai blinked, taken aback by the lack of panic. "That didn't scare you?"

You looked up, trying not to grin, lest he thought you were making light of his openness. "No, I think it’s hot. And, for what it's worth, I like you too, maybe not with the same vitriolic desire to do harm unto others. Like I'm not going to stab the next Salvatore that does you wrong, but...I don't know. I like you too."

“What?”

“Look, Caroline really irritated me today," you said, bridge-shuffling the cards with a crisp snap. "And Elena made me feel like I was betraying 'our cause', by finding issue with the brothers. And in all my hurt, I saw, again, for the hundredth time, how for a while now I've been sort of living my life on their terms. And I don't know. Maybe you're right about it all. But-," You looked up, meeting his wide, dark eyes. "As crazy as it sounds, when I'm here, none of it matters to me. I just--"

"...what?"

"Want it to be us."

You straightened up. "And so, what if I'm the only thing keeping you sane? I think that's weirdly attractive. In its own way. So long as no one dies, I'm sure it'll be fine."

A slow, genuine smile spread across Kai's face—not his old, jagged smirk, but something lighter. Relieved.

"You really are terrible for my character development," he muttered, though he reached out and casually slid his crate closer to the table, his knee bumping against yours.

"Deal the cards, Parker," you said. "Enough of this chitter-chatter. Tell me what you were doing before I got here."

[carefuldevil]

Joseph Morgan as Klaus Mikaelson in 2.22 "As I Lay Dying" The Vampire Diaries (2009-2017)

[viccyzsasz]

🕊️ “You Think You’re Dangerous Because You’ve Killed Men. I’ve Killed Generations.”

Elijah Mikaelson x You

(Enemies-to-Lovers, Tension so sharp it bleeds, Dark!Elijah, Predator vs Predator Energy)

setting: Midnight. A cemetery older than most cities. You step into the trap. He steps right over it.

⸻

You wait in the shadows, heart pounding, breath shallow.

He’s late.

Or maybe you’re early.

Then the air shifts — colder, heavier — like the dark itself has knelt at someone’s feet.

He’s here.

Elijah Mikaelson emerges from between tombstones like a storybook ghost — long coat trailing, expression unreadable, like the night itself carved him into form.

“Your attempts at subtlety are charming,” he says.

His voice is low, smooth, too calm.

Your hand flies to your blade. “Come closer. I dare you.”

He steps forward.

Right over the trap you spent two days setting.

Nothing happens.

The sigils sizzle — then fizzle.

Gone.

Just like that.

You don’t understand.

He cocks his head. “You drew from the witches here. They were slaughtered in 1864.”

He’s mocking you. Amused. Bored, even.

“You think you’re dangerous because you’ve killed men,” he says, tone velvet-wrapped steel, each step toward you deliberate and slow, “but I’ve killed generations.”

You step back instinctively. He keeps coming.

“Whole bloodlines erased at my command,” he continues. “Names the world no longer remembers — because I made it so.”

He’s in front of you now. Too close.

You strike.

He catches your wrist.

His grip is cold and unshakable — not tight. Not cruel. Just final.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs, his eyes dragging down to your mouth. “Is it fear? Or anticipation?”

Your blade clatters to the ground.

His other hand catches your jaw.

Holds.

Tilts your face up, gently.

Too gently.

“Tell me,” he whispers. “Do you want to die tonight?”

You shake your head.

“Then don’t pretend you’re not aroused by the idea.”

He lets go.

You stumble back, humiliated, furious, turned on.

He smiles like he knows it all.

“If you’re going to come for me again,” he says, turning away, “do try harder.”

And then he vanishes — like a nightmare that leaves you sweating and unsatisfied.

⸻

[voicestold]

indie multimuse ft muses from various video games, anime, tv series, and movies.

novella writer. 25+. please read rules before following!

credit