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.”
@ghost-adventures-imagines apologies if this is so short! but i hope that you will like it!
You didn't know that your boyfriend, Zak Bagans, was a vampire. In fact, you were very clueless about it, despite dating for a couple of years already.
After a long day of investigating, the two of you finally had time to yourselves in the hotel. You were cuddled into Zak's side, not yet aware of his true identity. A low, sudden grumble resonates from his chest, causing you to look up at him in concern.
"What's up, Zak?" She finally asked, concerned.
He flashes you an embarrassed grin, and that's when you see it. Four pointed fangs where his canine teeth should have been. You sit up, a little alarmed.
Surely, this can't be real, you think to yourself in bewilderment as a dull glint comes from the vampire fangs she was so sure was fake. He was just trying to scare you, that's all, you tried to reassure yourself.
"Sorry," he finally apologizes. "I almost lost control of myself there."
"How come you didn't tell me you were a vampire?" you ask, feeling a little hurt.
"Didn't think that you would believe," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Everyone knows that Bram Stoker invented vampires and Dracula. You'd think that it would be some sort of tale."
"Zak, you know I believe you, right?" you asked, your eyes filled with concern. He only shrugs. She turned to make sure that he was eye level with her, and she looked determined. "Turn me into one."
Zak stared, alarmed. "W-What?"
"You heard me. Turn me into one of your kind."
"It won't be worth it, y/n," Zak tried to protest.
"It will be if I'm with you," you protest, cupping his cheek with your hand. "Zak. I trust you."
The next thing she knows, is that two fangs pierce into her flesh in her clavicle. When she wakes up, everything was different. She could see things that she's never seen before. Everything seems to be twice as bright with a hint of shimmer to it. When her eyes finally land on Zak, she smiles, revealing that she, too, has identical fangs like his.
He looks relieved, now that he knows that she's survived. He brings her into a hug, which she returns, burying her face into her chest.
"How are you feeling, my little vampire?" he asks, his voice slightly hesitant. Y/n grins.
"Never better. I'm thrilled that I get to spend the rest of my eternity with you."
It was quiet. Simply quiet, and nothing more. The wood hanging above you creaked, signaling that the only other person in the destroyed home, was coming.
Your eyes were glassy, growing wet from the burn of the fire. Your joints didn't move. Rather the only thing that dared to move, was your shallow-breathing chest, and the sway of the fire. Its cracking brought you peace and more calmness than expected.
Especially since the earlier events were still fresh in your mind. Gripping onto the ripped fabric, you couldn't help but dig finger and nail into the couch. A couch that didn't belong to you, or anybody. In all honesty you had no idea what room you'd been shut in, but its not like that mattered. Even if you were in the most public of areas, He would still find a way to conceal you; to hurt you.
One would think that vampires, stuck alone for thousands of years would grow accustomed to the silence. The short flicker of a fire, possibly the occasional companionship of an animal, but nothing more. How wrong those legends would be seen to be. Just wait until they find your rotting corpse under his floorboards, releasing the idea that no, vampires didn't enjoy as much alone time as they were perceived to.
At least he had the courtesy to leave you alone for a bit of time, a luxury his past loves never received. That much was accounted for; whether it was Donna, August or Ambrose hidden in the garden underneath the flowerbeds, or Clyde and Mary decorating the walls, (clearly favorites) you noticed that they each were of all a similar death. One you had narrowly avoided by hiding in your bedroom. A vampires' temper was never noted in any of your history books unfortunately; which was likely what caused the deceased lovers' lives to end, considering the similar hole in all of their heads.
But alas, despite following each precaution that young Mary had left behind for future victims, including you, you were still stuck in this situation; one that would undeniably lead to your death. Her diary proved to be as helpful as knives were to combat a vampire.
The flickering fire was beginning to die down now, its flames no longer dancing on the wall. Embers cracked and crinkled, needing more wood to sustain the blazing yellow. No doubt this would bring his attention, drawing him within the room, a distance that was far too close for comfort.
Softly groaning, you moved further into the couch, trying to look as weak as possible. Though, that wasn't a very hard thing for you to do in this state.
His footsteps changed your blurred eyes into scrutinizing ones.
"Awake, I see?"
You didn't respond, instead staring at the polished shoes in front of you. He grasped your chin lightly, but firm enough to move it towards his face. Your eyes glazed over, not daring to stare directly at him.
Clearly he noticed this, snapping two fingers in front of your line of vision, forcing you to make uncomfortable eye contact. His scowl left immediately after seeing your newfound attention.
"Much better." He announced.
Looking down at the tube connected to a needle, the man tapped it.
"It appears the flow of blood has decreased today? That's new."
You rested your head back down onto the sofa, not having enough will to fight him back on his arrogance.
"yesterday you lost about.. two liters?" He questioned out loud, obviously not looking for an answer.
You stared at the needle connected to your arm, dark red blood flowing through it slowly. The man next to you steadily took it out, relishing in the wince you made due to its pain. No matter how many times he shoved it into your skin, you'd never get used to it.
"Unfortunately today we have no where near that amount," He sighed, not taking his eyes off of your limp form. His cold, soft hand held your cheek, caressing it lightly.
Silence followed you both, your attention digging into the packets of blood resting on the table.
He spoke once more, grey eyes deceivingly tired. They almost looked as worn as your own, but you knew better than to fall for that trick.
"Precious, we've done this time and time again. Don't you think its time for a rest?" He whined, letting his hand grow limp onto your equally cold cheek.
You glared at him, hoping to convey some sort of pain and hate without words. He smiled wickedly, applauding your continued defiance.
"So we aren't finished? You want to continue?" He suggests, knowing it was never your choice in the first place.
"My my, no one else has ever shown such resolve, you really wish to feed me this badly?" He grew closer, dark shoulder length hair falling forward.
Delicate red rubies twinkled against the dying light of the fireplace onto his skin. You always admired humble wealth, those earrings catching your attention, but now you hated them. You wished they'd only ever see the light of the fire you desired to burn this man- this creature- in.
"Get away..." You said, hardly forming a coherent sentence.
"Hm? What was that?" The man mockingly put a hand to his ear, begging you to speak your pain.
"Get away from me."
You spoke louder this time, lifting your body slightly off the couch. The newfound resistance caused the vampire to raise his eyebrows in amusement. You soon regretted the action, noting his interest, and your own dizziness. Before hitting the couch cushion harshly, the man grabbed your form, lightly resting it back down onto the sofa.
"I have an idea," He spoke calmly.
"Adan, get away.." You mumbled, looking towards the opposite side of the room, knowing this "idea" was rooting in evil intentions that would no doubt hurt you.
Adan got up from his crouched position, prepared to handle your defiance. You were clearly not fond of him now, but you soon would be. The others were always temporary; never filling the void he needed, complying too quickly. But now, he'd found the one who would fit the role necessary.
"Just listen, alright? I know you're tired." He looked down with pity, an expression you almost believed, if it wasn't for the fact that he quickly swung his leg over your waist, propping himself up on top of you. Adrenaline rushed through your veins, though with little effect. You were scared, but ready for the death that had so willingly graced the others. You'd gladly be another victim if it meant this would be over.
"Your blood has been wonderful to absorb this way, the medical field sure has come through wonders compared to back in my day," Adan said with a nostalgic sigh.
"Just get to the point." You hoarsely spoke, following a coughing fit. It was clear the lack of blood in your system could outrun Adan's planned death for you. It was a wonderful thought; foiling his plans due to his own mistakes? You would love to see that.
But Adan had other ideas.
"Alright alright. I know you've.. visited the others. and I'm not ashamed to say they filled their roles when needed; being put in a similar situation you find yourself in now."
Adan slid off your waist, falling onto the couch. Taking your legs, he bent them, spreading them in place, his hands grasping each of your thighs.
Your eyes widened in fear, panic taking over much faster than compared to earlier. Adan smiled devilishly, seemingly knowing your automatic fright.
"But, I've made a recent discovery, I find myself in a much more different position with you, than I did with the others. Despite your weak humanly demeanor, I sense strength within you. A type of strength I've been looking for."
With the little bit of energy you had left, you tried to kick Adan away, shoving him out of your line of sight. But, you were no match for a recently fed vampire, especially one hellbent on taking your own blood. He easily pinned you down, grabbing both of your wrists with one hand, forcing them against your stomach. he held one of your knees tightly, pushing your leg farther away. Pressing his cold cheek against your inner thigh, Adan smiled, looking up at your shaking form. He closed his eyes and kissed your feeble thigh.
"Get. Off of me." You commanded, clenching your teeth.
"But you haven't even heard my idea yet." He whined mockingly. Adan's fingers dug into your skin, holding you harshly without remorse. His teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin of your thigh, appreciating the shiver you gave him afterward.
"I've decided you are worthy of my training and presence, a feat that none of my other.. subjects could handle." He chuckled to himself, remembering their past weak lives. None had lived up to the high standards he put, until you came along. The resilience you held, still lasting on your death bed, proved to him that you were more than you looked: a simple human, full of silly lust and desire for wealth.
"What are you.. talking about?" Your voice rasped, cracking at each word.
Adan bit into your thigh, whispering vague words.
"All in due time, precious."
You bit your lip to prevent from screaming, knowing that was exactly what Adan wanted; he wanted more than anything to see your pain. To see you fold.
You felt him suck at the bite, lapping up every inch of blood available. Your mind went hazy from the pain, still in a state of weakness. Adan groaned delightfully, grateful for a taste of blood from the source. His tongue circled around the bite, allowing you to see the mess he produced. You whined unintentionally, cringing at the wound. Adan gripped your wrists harder, bloodlust taking over him. His eyes glittered a dark red from below you, his smile graced with your blood.
Moving upward, Adan's grip on your thigh loosened, instead bringing your leg up to wrap around his waist, pulling himself to eye level to you. He leered down at your pitiful state, tucking hair behind your ear, and out of the way of your neck. You refused to break eye contact with him, challenging the so-called power he held over you. You were too drained of necessary fluids to hurt him, but were more than willing to put up any kind of fight you could.
"You can stare angrily all you want, but that won't change my plans. " He laughed into your chest.
You were still confused on his "plans," but had hardly enough energy to focus on the situation at hand. Your eyes blurred in and out, blinking slowly. The blood loss was beginning to take more of an effect this time, as well as the pain from Adan's bite.
"Oh dear, it appears you're going down faster than I assumed. Then I suppose we must do this quickly." Adan spoke assuredly, wasting no time to make his way to your neck. He teased lightly, taking a long lick at your neck, sucking at more sensitive areas. Your hands were still stuck underneath his own body, his grip on your wrists once again tightening, as well as his clutch on your thigh. You tried desperately to wiggle away, but it proved futile as Adan feverishly dug his fangs into your skin. Your cries were grating, throat dry and cracked.
The vampire noisily drank the wet liquid dripping down your neck. Again, Adan ran his tongue up your neck, taking every bit of blood he could. You could hear his huffs of breath, and feel them against your mangled skin. Your nails dug into his shoulder, angrily trying to find some way to harm the man above you.
Adan regained his posture, loosening his grip on your leg and arms, instead bringing them above your head. Your teeth grated against one another, bent on surviving this pain.
Adan looked down at you, pleased with his work on your new wounds. He didn't say a word as he pierced his fangs into his own dead skin, bringing the dark blood to his mouth. Blood dripped from his lips, drawing closer to your own.
You moved your head away, pursing your lips tightly together: you knew what this entailed. No way in hell would you let him turn you into something like him. You'd rather deal with this death a thousand times over than be stuck with this bastard.
But with ease, Adan grabbed your jaw, turning it towards him. His thumb dug into the punctures of your inner thigh, drawing more blood and pain. Your eyes widened, as did your mouth in pain. Adan took this chance quickly to shove his mouth onto your own, bringing the dark blood onto your tongue. You bit his lip, shaking your head.
Adan pressed the wound again, causing you to stop, and cry in pain. The blood easily went down your throat, hardly with your notice. The iron taste was disgusting; not foreign, but revolting nonetheless. swiftly, he clamped a hand over your mouth, not allowing you to spit it back up.
"Make sure you swallow all of it." He commanded with a glare.
You looked up at him with a repulsed glare.
After a few seconds of his hand suffocating you, Adan finally removed it. A coughing fit hit you hard, not allowing you a decent breath of air.
You hardly registered the knife stuck in your abdomen, until Adan caressed you lightly. His light gesture caught you off guard, and seeing the silver blade stick out, showed the reason why he was so gentle. He had gotten the ultimate upper hand.
Your face cringed, blood making its way out of your mouth.
Adan gripped your shoulders, forcing you against the couch. Your eyes went hazy once more, the fire embers completely gone at this point. The room was dark, and you could faintly make out Adan's figure as he slit your throat quickly.
